Jiang Yubai’s affirmation and encouragement always soothed Lin Zhixia’s emotions.

Monday morning, Lin Zhixia went to work full of energy. After a busy morning in her office, she suddenly heard a knock on the door. She responded: “Come in.”

Xu Lingbo rushed toward Lin Zhixia’s desk: “Professor Lin, Senior is arguing with Professor Qu in the laboratory…”

The “Professor Qu” Xu Lingbo mentioned was Professor Qu Zongyi.

Previously, Lin Zhixia’s students wanted to borrow Qu Zongyi’s laboratory, but he repeatedly refused. Later, Lin Zhixia discussed it with him once, and she thought the matter had been resolved. Unexpectedly, new complications arose, leading to another problem.

Lin Zhixia quickly rushed to the laboratory.

She was shocked.

Qu Zongyi, an esteemed “academic leader,” often displayed his elegant and approachable demeanor at faculty meetings. Now, he stood at the laboratory door, angrily scolding Fang Yiwen: “Enough, stop talking.”

Fang Yiwen shrugged expressionlessly.

Qu Zongyi caught sight of Lin Zhixia from the corner of his eye and slightly raised his voice: “Your advisor already spoke to me on your behalf, saying you’d come to do experiments without disturbing other students…”

Fang Yiwen interrupted him: “I didn’t disturb your students. It’s just that your students work too slowly. I guided them on the correct usage methods, and then one girl started sobbing, tears streaming down. Honestly, Professor Qu, this batch of master’s and doctoral students in your group lacks psychological resilience.”

Qu Zongyi’s expression was extremely unpleasant.

Xu Lingbo interjected: “Senior, how exactly did you guide others?”

Fang Yiwen turned to see him and was quite pleased. She recounted truthfully: “I said, you people, before doing experiments, did you read the equipment user manuals? Those devices aren’t difficult to use, just think a little. Can’t produce data, can’t write papers, standing around here all day doing nothing, such a waste…”

Earlier at noon, when Xu Lingbo came to bring Fang Yiwen lunch, he heard continuous commotion from the laboratory. Worried that Fang Yiwen would be severely scolded by Qu Zongyi, he quickly went to find Lin Zhixia to help, but unexpectedly, Fang Yiwen hadn’t lost any ground as usual.

Xu Lingbo tugged at her sleeve, somewhat embarrassed as he reminded her: “Senior, didn’t I tell you a few days ago that when you come to someone else’s laboratory, you should smile and tell jokes?”

Fang Yiwen was exceptionally forthright: “Jokes? I told those, too.”

Xu Lingbo listened attentively.

Fang Yiwen thought for a moment, couldn’t help laughing “haha,” and then revealed: “I said, coming to the laboratory, you thoroughly understand the operation techniques of mobile apps like QQ and WeChat, learned how to turn on and off the computer monitor and host, and mastered the cleaning and storage of laboratory equipment…”

After hearing this conversation, Lin Zhixia finally understood why Qu Zongyi was unwilling to lend the laboratory to Fang Yiwen—it wasn’t that he didn’t want to lend the laboratory; he just didn’t want his entire research group to have any involvement with Fang Yiwen.

So that was it!

Lin Zhixia sighed silently.

In front of Lin Zhixia, Fang Yiwen showed no aggression. As Lin Zhixia’s interactions with her deepened, she increasingly admired Lin Zhixia, behaving more and more obediently in all aspects, almost catching up to Zhan Rui.

Qu Zongyi had already reached his limit of patience.

He waved at his students, then turned to look at Lin Zhixia: “Now you understand the situation, Professor Lin. I’ll keep it brief. I’m quite busy this month—revising grant proposals, organizing exchange meetings, and supervising postdocs—I don’t have time to check on students… Fang Yiwen needs the laboratory for a total of four days. Let’s agree now, as long as there’s someone in the laboratory, she should wait. How does that sound, Professor Lin?”

Before Lin Zhixia could speak, Fang Yiwen asked: “What if there was originally no one in the room, I go in to do experiments, and halfway through, your students appear. What should I do then?”

Qu Zongyi removed his glasses, pressed the back of his hand against his eyebrows, and said slowly: “My students have no reason to disturb you.”

“You’re wrong,” Fang Yiwen argued, “go check the surveillance footage.”

Qu Zongyi pushed his silver-framed glasses up his nose.

Fang Yiwen continued correcting his wording: “You’re a professor of science and engineering. You should observe the facts before making inferences. When making inferences, don’t use ‘no reason,’ use ‘may’ or ‘perhaps.’ If you’re not one hundred percent certain, don’t use absolute language.”

Previously, Qu Zongyi had personally heard Fang Yiwen mercilessly belittle his students, making a girl who was already under great pressure cry on the spot. As their advisor, he found it simply unbearable. He even suspected that Fang Yiwen’s previous advisor had transferred to another university because he couldn’t tolerate her.

He wondered how long Lin Zhixia could endure her.

Qu Zongyi tried to smooth things over: “Alright, I won’t say more. Let Professor Lin speak.” He pointed to the wall clock: “In ten more minutes, I have a meeting with the Vice President in another building.”

Lin Zhixia responded calmly: “Professor Qu, how about this—we all have our students maintain silence in the laboratory, not disturbing others. Fang Yiwen has already been experimenting for a full day. In three more days, she’ll complete the model testing and no longer need special equipment.”

“Yes,” Fang Yiwen agreed.

Just as Qu Zongyi was about to refute, Lin Zhixia raised her head and locked eyes with him. Her attitude was somewhat firm, and her gaze was different from usual. Qu Zongyi held his breath, took a step back, and reluctantly conceded: “Then I’ll trouble Professor Lin to supervise.”

“You’re too kind, Professor Qu,” Lin Zhixia said with exceptional politeness, “thank you for your consideration.”

Qu Zongyi coughed dully: “Students, what should be learned… cannot go unlearned.”

The “what should be learned” Qu Zongyi referred to probably meant “how to interact with others.” Unfortunately, he had no time to expand on this topic. After briefly chatting with Lin Zhixia, he hurriedly took the elevator and left.

—

In the empty corridor, only Lin Zhixia, Xu Lingbo, and Fang Yiwen remained.

Xu Lingbo looked deflated, and Fang Yiwen lowered her head in silence.

Lin Zhixia looked at them and softly asked: “Have you had lunch? Let me treat you to a meal at the faculty dining hall.”

Xu Lingbo humbly said: “No, no, thank you, Professor.”

Fang Yiwen also said, “I have a meat sandwich and a tea egg in my backpack, still warm.”

She unzipped her backpack, took out the meat sandwich and tea egg, and held them in her palm, which became slightly hot. She took a big bite of the sandwich and picked up a thermos with peeling paint.

Lin Zhixia helped her twist open the cup and brought the rim to her lips. She drank a small sip of hot tea with slight hesitation. Lin Zhixia quietly asked her: “Why did you start arguing with them in the laboratory?”

Xu Lingbo muttered, “What else could it be? My senior has delayed emotional responses…”

Lin Zhixia glanced at him, and he bit his lip, saying no more.

Fang Yiwen wiped her mouth and calmly said, “I wasn’t talking at first. Two male students stood behind me, chatting, bringing up that joke about the ‘group of the old, weak, sick, and disabled.’ You’ve all heard it, right?”

Lin Zhixia remembered clearly. Qu Zongyi’s students had used “old, weak, sick, and disabled” to refer to Lin Zhixia’s research group—Fang Yiwen was old, Zhan Rui was disabled, Xu Lingbo was weak, and Lin Zhixia was sick for accepting the three of them.

“You were angry?” Lin Zhixia asked in surprise. “I thought you wouldn’t get angry.”

Fang Yiwen leaned against the window rail, her posture relaxed and casual: “Professor Lin, I wasn’t angry. I just returned their methods to them.”

Lin Zhixia carefully examined her expression: “Your emotional fluctuations… seem greater than before. I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

Fang Yiwen remained silent. She was still waiting for Lin Zhixia’s criticism.

However, Lin Zhixia said, “I originally wasn’t planning to accept doctoral students this year, but then I met you. We have quite a connection…”

This statement seemed to have a tone of deliberate downplaying before praise.

Fang Yiwen was startled and looked up at her: “You don’t want to supervise me anymore?!”

Lin Zhixia smiled: “How could that be possible?”

Today’s sunlight was clear and bright. Lin Zhixia looked out the window and murmured, “Time is precious. Try not to dwell on unimportant people and matters. Last month, during our dinner, we discussed the relationship between rationality and sensibility. Theory needs practice.”

Fang Yiwen and Xu Lingbo remained silent.

Lin Zhixia continued: “Fang Yiwen, before you do experiments this afternoon, turn on your phone’s recording function.”

Fang Yiwen brushed her hair: “Alright, don’t worry.”

Lin Zhixia carefully said: “One last thing, don’t mock others—this isn’t my requirement for you, nor is it specifically about today’s incident, just an observation conclusion… Equal dialogue can improve communication efficiency.”

“Mm,” Fang Yiwen agreed.

Lin Zhixia energetically slapped the window rail: “Great, now go study, make the most of your time. I believe in you both.”

Both students were obedient.

They dutifully walked toward the laboratory, their figures gradually fading into the distance.

The janitor had just mopped the floor in the experimental building, and a faint moisture lingered at the corridor’s corner. Xu Lingbo sniffed and both sighed and smiled: “Professor Lin is truly a wonderful person.”

“Professor Lin… believes in me,” Fang Yiwen’s steps faltered as she murmured.

“Yes,” Xu Lingbo scratched his head, “she believes in your explanation, your character, your ability.”

After speaking, Xu Lingbo felt deeply moved. Today was truly a remarkable day—he had witnessed Professor Lin’s unyielding firm attitude, as well as the softest side of his senior’s character.

—

Recently, all three graduate students under Lin Zhixia have been working very diligently.

At the weekly group meetings, everyone’s reports became increasingly substantial. Lin Zhixia was quite gratified. Her teaching career finally showed some encouraging progress. The two papers she had independently written had also been submitted—everything at the university was going smoothly, and the company’s new products were about to launch.

Two days before the product launch, the Vice President specifically came to Lin Zhixia’s office to discuss the strategic policy of “integration of industry, academia, and research.”

The “integration of industry, academia, and research” jointly advocated by universities and enterprises refers to “the coordinated development of scientific research, education, and production.” This concept tightly connects academics with economics, promoting technological innovation and educational reform to better serve the entire social system… In short, the President attached great importance to this area. Therefore, the Vice President personally came to consult with Lin Zhixia.

The Vice President was a female professor in her sixties. She wore a cashmere coat and gold-rimmed glasses, like a kind elder. She had a delightful conversation with Lin Zhixia and repeatedly praised her: “Good, good, Professor Lin, you’ve considered things quite thoroughly.”

Lin Zhixia handed her a proposal document.

The Vice President nodded slightly and said, “Professor Shen Zhaohua is about to be elected as an academician. You’re her granddaughter…”

When Lin Zhixia was young, she often played in Shen Zhaohua’s laboratory, using various instruments and computer systems, and was affiliated with Shen Zhaohua’s research group, publishing a SCI first-author paper. Therefore, many people at the university believed that Lin Zhixia was Shen Zhaohua’s biological granddaughter—this could also explain the source of Lin Zhixia’s high-IQ genes, after all, Professor Shen Zhaohua was very intelligent, and the continuation from grandmother to granddaughter made others envious.

Shen Zhaohua herself had never commented on this rumor.

And Lin Zhixia said with a smiling tone: “I wish I could be Professor Shen’s granddaughter.”

The Vice President smoothed things over: “It’s still a continuation of the same lineage.”

—

After the Vice President said that, Lin Zhixia realized she hadn’t contacted Shen Zhaohua for a long time.

Shen Zhaohua had gone to a marine base in the Southern Hemisphere and had not yet returned to China.

Lin Zhixia sent her an email to greet her, and she replied to Lin Zhixia the next day, wishing Lin Zhixia success with her new product launch.

On the day of the launch, the venue was full, with some industry peers having booked admission tickets in advance, traveling from out of town specifically to attend. The entire venue was decorated like a movie theater, with complete lighting effects, making it an extremely grand-scale event.

Lin Zhixia wore a women’s business suit, holding a microphone in her right hand, standing quietly backstage. Jiang Yubai stood beside her. His profile wasn’t clear in the dim corner. Lin Zhixia stole a glance at him, and he seemed to sense it, asking: “Ready?”

Today he was also formally dressed, with his shirt buttons fastened to the top, collar immaculate, tie orderly, trouser creases straight—the entire person could shine even when hidden in the shadows.

When she didn’t speak, he extended his hand to her.

Their fingers intertwined tightly.

Nearby staff all stopped in their tracks. The main screen on stage was playing a promotional video, and at this moment, no one temporarily noticed Lin Zhixia and Jiang Yubai.

Jiang Yubai led Lin Zhixia to a rest area backstage. He lowered a curtain, creating a private space. In the slanting bright light, he handed her a metal nameplate with an engraved line: “Captain Lin Zhixia leads the way.”

As the promotional video neared its end, thunderous applause filled the venue. Lin Zhixia gripped the nameplate and said spiritedly: “Alright, Leader Jiang Yubai, wait for my good news!”

Lin Zhixia held Jiang Yubai’s hand as they walked towards the stairs leading to the stage—the main speaker for this launch was Lin Zhixia, with Jiang Yubai as her behind-the-scenes supporter. He stopped at the bottom step, gradually releasing her fingers. Her fingertips slid across his fingerpads, but his gaze never left her.

She turned back to smile at him: “Go watch me from the audience. Today is the starting point of our industry sensation.”