Song Zimo and Tang Shun were very happy after they returned; their lecture in Stockholm, Sweden, was seen as perfect.
Especially Tang Shun, after posting photos of his lecture in his mont, he received likes and admiration from over ten girlfriends. Were it not for being married now, he would’ve liked to invite girlfriends from various nationalities to China for a big gathering.
Song Zimo, as Sanbo Hospital’s top tall, rich, and handso guy, walking around on the Stockholm stage clearly increased his charm a lot more.
Soon ca the first Monday morning of October; Nandu’s weather was very refreshing. Sunlight filtered through the old banyan tree leaves in the Institute, casting fluttering patches of light on the corridor.
Everything as usual.
Tang Shun was in the office tidying up the follow-up report of the Stockholm trip, revising that drafted acceptance speech "for ergencies." Song Zimo was practicing to introduce their work in a more straightforward tone, recently thinking that the previous overly "speech-like" expression might indeed not suit the team’s style.
Zhang Bo and Zhang Lin were whispering about whether to use a "shock-style" title for the new issue of science communication videos in the "workstation." Jiang Jitong and Chu Xiaoxiao’s team were surrounding a flow cytoter, staring at the dancing data points on the screen, discussing how to further optimize enhancer technology.
Yang Ping arrived a bit later today; it was already ten o’clock when he got to the office. As usual, the desk had docunts waiting to be reviewed and several new journals.
He made himself a cup of tea, opened the latest issue of "Nature dicine," which had a comntary on tumor microenvironnt heterogeneity citing several core concepts of their system regulation theory. He read with concentration, making so annotations on the side with a pen.
The sunlight outside slowly moved, and the office was quiet enough to only hear the sound of pages turning.
In Stockholm, Sweden, it was three in the morning. Nobel Prize Committee’s headquarters building was silent, with only security personnel performing routine patrols. Only a few hours remained until the final vote in the morning and the news conference. The committee mbers were asleep at ho, conserving energy for the important day ahead.
In Beijing, at noon, Yang Ping had just finished a brief phone eting about next month’s academic seminar. He stood up and walked to the window, stretching his sowhat stiff shoulders.
In Stockholm, it was five in the early morning, and the city was still asleep. But so staff mbers of the Nobel Committee had already begun getting up to prepare the morning’s eting materials. The press conference hall was doing last-minute arrangents, checking sound and lighting equipnt.
At twelve thirty in the morning Beijing ti, Yang Ping was about to have lunch. Just as he reached the office door, the desk phone suddenly rang.
The ringtone echoed in the quiet corridor. Yang Ping turned back and glanced at the caller ID; it was a long international number with the prefix 46.
Sweden’s area code.
In Stockholm, it was half past five with the sky just lightening. Chairman Carlson had already gotten up; she would leave for the Karolinska Institute in half an hour to start the final preparations.
Yang Ping went back to the desk but didn’t answer the phone imdiately. He rembered Manstein ntioned that notification calls usually co in the early morning Stockholm ti, corresponding to noon Beijing ti.
When the ringtone reached the fifth ti, he picked up the receiver.
"Hello, this is Yang Ping."
A slightly aged but clearly articulated English female voice ca from the other end, with a gentle Swedish accent: "Is this Professor Yang Ping?"
"I am."
"Professor Yang Ping, hello. I am Anna Carlson, the chair of the Nobel Prize in Physiology or dicine Committee."
Yang Ping calmly said, "Hello, Professor Carlson."
"I am honored to inform you," Carlson’s voice ca through the transcontinental phone line, clear and solemn, "that after the vote by the Nobel assembly at the Karolinska Institute under the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, it has been decided to award this year’s Nobel Prize in Physiology or dicine to you for proposing and verifying the theory of systemic regulation in humans, providing groundbreaking frawork for understanding complex diseases and developing new therapeutic strategies."
The phone was silent for a mont, with only subtle electrical sounds heard — this was the proof of the signal traversing eight thousand kiloters of Eurasia.
"The official press conference will be held at eleven in the morning Stockholm ti," Carlson continued, "which is six in the afternoon your ti. According to tradition, we hope the laureates refrain from making the news public until after the conference. About an hour before the press conference, we will release a press release to the dia, so you will have a few hours to prepare."
Yang Ping glanced at the clock on the wall: twelve thirty-seven in the morning. There were over five hours until the news conference and about four hours until the press release.
"Thank you. I understand."
"Professor Yang Ping," Carlson’s voice had a hint of smile, "You sound very calm, not a hint of surprise?"
"Perhaps it’s because of winning the prize for the second ti..." Yang Ping explained.
A gentle laugh ca from the other end: "Even the first ti you won the prize, you seed very calm. That’s a good ntality, keep it. So, see you in Stockholm in December? The award ceremony is on December 10th in the afternoon, which is the evening of December 10th your ti in Beijing."
"See you in December."
Hanging up the phone, the receiver made a soft "click" as it returned to the base, and the office resud its quietness.
At five forty in the early morning Stockholm ti, Chairman Carlson put down the phone and nodded to the assistant beside her. The assistant imdiately began preparing for the next notification call. According to tradition, the committee simultaneously informs all the laureates.
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