Shu Lanzhou pinned up her hair, revealing a delicate and lovely face. In her large, bright eyes shone a hint of unwavering determination.
Writing several high-quality theoretical papers in a single night would be impossible for any first-year graduate student—
Unless those papers had already been written long ago and were simply being typed out under the guise of a live stream.
But Shu Lanzhou could do it!
Not because she had some protagonist halo, but because she had lived this life before. In her previous life, she had spent over a decade by Han Weicheng's side, step by step conducting experiments, doing research, and writing papers.
Those research papers that should have borne her name had all been taken by Han Weicheng with the excuse: "This was a team effort and belongs to everyone. But looking at the overall contribution, Mu Yao deserves the credit this time."
Once, twice, five times in total—Lin Muyao had taken credit for five of her papers.
Because of her own weakness, Shu Lanzhou had chosen to back down again and again.
And in the end, those five papers made Lin Muyao a star in the research field.
While Shu Lanzhou herself ended up behind bars.
Every single day she lived in prison, she would recite those five papers from memory—down to the very decimals—just praying for one day she could take everything back.
Shu Lanzhou took a deep breath, clearing her thoughts, and focused her eyes on the screen.
There weren't many viewers, but since she had registered with her real name, some people from the academic circle had tuned in out of curiosity.
Comments were already rolling in—some accusing her of putting on a show, insisting there was no way she could actually write the papers herself.
Others criticized her for arrogance—how could a first-year graduate student dare challenge a renowned professor? They claimed she was overestimating herself.
Shu Lanzhou turned off the comment feed entirely and began typing with full concentration.
Character by character, she struck the keyboard. When she reached a point requiring calculations, she pulled out a draft sheet and carefully worked through the math.
She was so absorbed in her work that she didn't even notice when Mu Side returned.
It wasn't until two hours later, when she completed the first paper—more accurately, finished re-writing it from memory—that she realized he was there.
"Eat something before you keep going," Mu Side said, handing her a late-night snack.
Shu Lanzhou took it with a smile. "Thanks, big brother. You eat too."
"Sure." Though Mu Side didn't appear on camera, his voice was loud and clear.
He sat directly across from her, also working on his laptop.
It wasn't clear what he was working on—he looked busy, occasionally taking phone calls while handling some documents.
Time ticked on, and by the time the sky began to lighten, Shu Lanzhou had finally completed three full papers.
She stretched and said,
"Thank you all for witnessing this. I'll be submitting these three papers right away and requesting fast-track review. Hopefully, you'll be able to read the final versions soon. Goodbye."
She ended the stream and yawned. "So tired!"
"Then sleep," Mu Side said, picking her up and carrying her to her room.
Shu Lanzhou turned on her side, closed her eyes, and fell asleep fully clothed.
After tucking her in, Mu Side walked into the other room to take a call.
"Mu Side, what did you mean by that message?" Mu Rongxie's voice came through, angry and urgent. "Are you saying my sister's car accident wasn't just an accident?"
Mu Side shook his head. "Still not clear. We need to investigate further. But if Shu's guess is correct, something definitely happened that day Aunt went to see Han Weicheng—something we don't know."
"Got it. You stay out of it for now. Leave this bastard to me. If he really hurt my sister, I'll skin him alive," Mu Rongxie growled.
Mu Side massaged his temples. "You handle Aunt's situation, and let me handle yours, okay?"
"What the hell does that mean?" Mu Rongxie sounded exasperated.
Mu Side tugged on his pant leg and sat on the sofa. "Why not just confess now? Save me all this investigation. I've been digging for a year and still have no clue."
"Get lost! What's there to investigate about me? You're clearly bored out of your mind. Spend more time with Shu Lanzhou instead," Mu Rongxie snapped and hung up.
Mu Side sighed. Ever since they suspected Mu Rongxie was hiding something, he hadn't stopped investigating.
More than a year had passed with zero progress—he was starting to doubt his own ability.
Aunt's incident had happened over two decades ago. Uncle's breakup with the Long family's daughter also occurred around the same time. Could Uncle's secret be connected to those events?
Mu Side pressed a hand to his brow but couldn't reach a conclusion. He got up and went back to the bedroom—sleep first, think later.
Before sleeping, he turned off his phone to avoid any disturbances.
And it turned out, that was a wise decision.
After finishing the papers, Shu Lanzhou had emailed them directly to Nan Xi and entrusted her with the rest.
When Nan Xi arrived at work the next morning and opened her inbox, she was so stunned she could barely think. She immediately contacted her mentor and reached out to influential figures in the medical field.
Pulling every string she had, she expedited the review process. By around 1 p.m., the three papers were officially published in journals and spread like wildfire online!
Then the calls started coming nonstop to both Shu Lanzhou and Mu Side.
The live stream from that first night had been uploaded to the homepage, and by mid-afternoon, the playback views had surpassed 100,000.
Everyone in the academic and medical circles was talking about those three papers.
Many doubted that Shu Lanzhou had written them herself—after all, given her academic background, it seemed impossible to produce papers of that caliber.
Some even claimed they must've been written by Han Weicheng himself.
But then, someone dug up Han Weicheng's past work—those flashy but hollow papers that Shu Lanzhou had once criticized as being more style than substance.
A "well-meaning" user even did a side-by-side comparison.
And then the narrative started shifting:
"I looked into it—Han Weicheng's academic achievements over the past 20 years have mostly been theoretical papers, very similar in style to Shu Lanzhou's!"
"He's never really led any major research projects with significant medical breakthroughs. There have been some minor findings, but nothing groundbreaking!"
"Compared to other professors at his level, his fame and actual contributions don't match."
"Turns out Shu Lanzhou was right—his work really is flashy but hollow. And if a first-year grad student can pull this off, it reflects poorly on him as a 'renowned professor'!"
"I went back and looked at Han Weicheng's history. He does seem like someone who only cares about fame and is obsessed with boosting his presence online."
"With that kind of reputation, who knows what shady stuff he's done behind the scenes?"
"If he didn't have something to hide, why would a former student expose him like this?"
"This smells like a failed profit split. That's why it's all blowing up now."
"The truth is, with today's media culture, many people use hype to craft fake reputations while neglecting real work. Some people are simply unworthy of the status they've been given."
"I recommend a thorough investigation of these so-called 'famous scholars' who fool the public with their inflated reputations."
"Clout isn't everything—especially in academia. Professors should focus on teaching and research, not trying to become internet celebrities!"
"This entire fiasco is a disgrace to the medical field. The teachers don't act like teachers, and the students don't act like students—it's laughable."
"But really, what did Shu Lanzhou do wrong? She's been out of Han's research group for over two years, kept a low profile, and never once provoked him."
"You sound like an insider. Care to elaborate?"
"Look at the timeline: if it weren't for Lin Muyao's fraudulent paper and Han Weicheng's lies, Shu Lanzhou wouldn't have spoken up. Even then, it was only after Han started attacking her online—subtly and overtly—that she pushed back."
"It was Lin Muyao who faked the paper. Han Weicheng failed to supervise. What does that have to do with Luo Jialin or Shu Lanzhou supposedly 'scheming' together? Even if Shu knew, was she the one who forced Lin to commit fraud?"
"Bottom line: the ones at fault here are Lin Muyao and Han Weicheng. The rest of you rubberneckers need a reality check. When has Shu Lanzhou ever taken the initiative in this mess?"
"Exactly! If she really wanted revenge, with her live-streamed writing skills, she could've crushed Lin Muyao long ago. Why wait until now?"