Shulan Zhou glanced around. This was the entrance to the girls' dormitory—what was Professor Han Weicheng doing here?
"Professor Han, is something the matter?" she asked, her gaze wary.
Han Weicheng didn't look well. His expression was complicated as he stared at her.
When he had first brought her into the research team, it hadn't been because he was impressed by her academic potential. What he'd valued was her background as a girl from the countryside—hardworking, able to endure hardship, and quick with her hands. The team had needed someone like that, someone to do the grunt work and assist the seniors.
In his eyes, girls could never measure up to boys—neither in intellect nor stamina. His work was intricate, profound, and demanding, and he had never considered it suitable for her.
And reality had seemed to confirm that. She could barely pass exams, always skating by just above the threshold. Her physical condition had declined too—she'd become so thin, a gust of wind could knock her down.
If not for her diligence and seemingly obedient nature, he would've long since advised her to leave the team.
But who would've guessed—her barely-passing grades were due to a lack of time to study. And her declining health? A result of countless sleepless nights, working on experiments for her senior classmates, sacrificing both meals and rest.
Yes, it was pitiful. Yes, it stirred sympathy. But wasn't that all her own fault?
Didn't she know how to speak up for herself?
Han Weicheng's eyes darkened as he looked down at her.
"You left the team, making it seem like we bullied you. Now everyone points fingers at me and your seniors. Isn't that enough?" His tone turned cold. "What, are you only satisfied once everyone's dragged down with you—ruined by your hands?"
That look of disappointed righteousness on his face nearly made Shulan Zhou laugh out loud.
She dusted the snowflakes from her coat, her eyes colder than the snow around them.
"First of all, I didn't 'defect' from the team—Professor Han, that's quite an exaggeration. Second, since I left, I haven't once said you bullied me, nor have I ever initiated any talk about what went on within the team."
"If your memory serves, then take a good look—whether it's the plagiarism issue, the paper controversy, or even the recent false accusations—how did they start?"
"Oh, so you get to belittle and blame me again and again, and I'm just supposed to take it without ever fighting back?"
"Professor Han, there are things I never confronted you about before. Today is the first time—and the last—that I'll say them."
"First, I did not plagiarize. The paper published in the leading medical journal was my original work. Every single word, from the first draft to the final edit, was mine alone. I didn't even have a supervising professor."
"Second, those 200-plus experiments that were made public? I personally oversaw every one of them, from taking notes to writing the final reports. I never relied on the seniors."
"Third, I joined your team by merit alone. I never had any inappropriate relationships with my seniors—or with you. I think that should be obvious enough without further clarification."
"Fourth, joining Professor Mu's team was a strategic decision. I evaluated it carefully and believed it was the best fit to ensure my graduation. It wasn't some kind of revenge. Don't flatter yourself."
"Fifth, whether it's the award we just won or my academic record over the years—I earned everything with my own intelligence and effort. I've never used underhanded means, and I never will."
"Based on all that, you're in no position to judge me. I'm not the one who dragged this mess into the mud. I'm not the one who ruined Guo Jialiang."
When she finished, Shulan Zhou let out a cold, sarcastic laugh.
"You know, I never expected you to treat me the same as the others. But I thought that, as a teacher, you could at least be fair."
"Turns out, even fairness was too much to hope for."
The bitterness and injustice of it all hit her hard. All that time and effort she'd given—what a complete waste. Her heart ached for her past self: so foolish, so pitiful.
Han Weicheng's face had turned dark as molasses, his expression livid.
"I haven't even said anything yet," he snapped, "and here you are, spouting off, trying to make yourself look like some moral paragon. We've been teacher and student for so long—I never knew you were so eloquent."
"If you could speak this well, why didn't you tell me what was going on in the team back then? Maybe none of this would've happened!"
Ah, the classic blame-the-victim tactic.
So now their lack of ethics was her fault, because she hadn't called them out?
Shulan Zhou found it laughable. "Excuse me, I've got an exam to take. Please step aside."
"What exam?" Han Weicheng didn't move. "There's no exam for fourth-years today."
Shulan's brow furrowed. "It's an acupuncture exam. Are you really unaware, or are you trying to get me to miss it on purpose?"
"You—" Han Weicheng's chest rose with indignation. "You've only been studying for two months. You really think you can pass?"
"I'll know once I try," she said calmly, brushing past him.
Han Weicheng turned, calling after her:
"Fine. If you pass, I'll stop interfering in Guo Jialiang's case. But if you don't, you go to the school and withdraw your complaints."
"And don't worry, I won't keep Guo Jialiang on the team either. But he won't have to publicly apologize or be expelled."
So it was still all about his reputation. This wasn't about defending Guo Jialiang—it was about shielding the team's name from further shame.
If there was no public apology or disciplinary action, everyone would think Guo Jialiang was simply unqualified and got quietly cut. No one would suspect deeper issues within the team.
A masterfully calculated move.
Shulan Zhou actually laughed. "Why should I gamble with you? If you really had the authority to manage Guo Jialiang, you wouldn't be here ambushing me first thing in the morning!"
"Give it up, Professor Han. For what Guo Jialiang did—trying to smear my name—getting expelled and apologizing publicly is already letting him off easy."
Seeing that she was no longer the obedient, soft-spoken girl from before, Han Weicheng was both surprised and infuriated.
"What, scared?" he goaded with a laugh. "I knew it. Without my team, you're nothing. Banking on acupuncture to make a name for yourself? Keep dreaming!"
She knew he was trying to provoke her—but she was still furious.
The exam was starting soon, and she didn't have time for his nonsense. "Fine," she said coldly. "Let's gamble. But don't you think your terms are a bit unfair?"
"How about this—if I pass, you agree to give me a copy of all the research materials I worked on in your team. Then I'll consider it a fair bet."
Han Weicheng's eyes widened. "You must be out of your mind!"
"What's wrong, Professor Han?" she mocked. "Afraid I might surpass your entire team just from those files?"
His breath hitched in his chest. "You arrogant little girl! What nerve!"
"Then are you in or not?" she asked, checking her watch. "I've got an exam to get to—I don't have time to waste."