Seeing my silence, Jason called over two female students.

He instructed them to take me home first.

Then he turned to me, his voice lowered, carrying a coaxing tone.

"Samantha, you go home first."

"We'll talk about it when I get home tonight." The two girls whose names were called timidly approached me.

"Mrs. Moore, we'll go home with you."

I, who never made things difficult for others, nodded quietly and followed them away.

Behind me came Jessica's coquettish voice.

"Mr. Whitman, Samantha is so arrogant and domineering. What if she pressures the school and prevents me from graduating?"

Jason, usually aloof, chuckled.

"You're fearless in the lab every day, even daring to force me to eat spicy hot pot, and now you're scared?"

"Samantha is just tough on the outside but soft on the inside. She won't do anything for you, and besides, I'm here to protect you, aren't I?"

Two people behind me laughed in unison.

I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging into my palms, and let out a cold laugh.

It seems that even after all these years of marriage with Jason, he still hasn’t grasped one fact.

Can Jason protect the person I, Samantha, want to deal with?

On the way home, the two female students hesitated, seemingly wanting to say something.

Finally, they gritted their teeth and handed me their phones.

"Professor's wife, please take a look at this. It's quite popular on the school forum."

It was a pinned post.

"Rational discussion: Are Professor Jason and Ms. Jessica the strongest academic couple in our department?"

I took it and scrolled down.

Someone posted many photos.

There were photos of them standing side by side at academic conferences.

There were photos of them discussing data together in the lab, heads bowed.

Another photo showed Jessica smiling as she adjusted Jason's tie, with Jason bowing slightly in agreement.

My grip on my phone tightened.

That tie was one I bought, and I personally put it on Jason every morning.

The poster's tone was exciting.

"Who understands, folks! Professor Whitman is rigorous and abstinent, while Ms. Jessica is quick-witted and agile. When they team up for debates, they're absolutely insane! They know what the other wants with just a glance!"

Hundreds of replies followed.

"That's true, evenly matched love! What do some parasitic bastards know?"

"Stop talking, give them some face. After all, all they can do is make soup."

I read through the replies one by one.

The screen light reflected in my eyes, making them a little sore.

So, in other people's eyes, they were a match made in heaven, soulmates.

And I, just a superfluous parasitic bastard who couldn't even squeeze into academia.

A slightly different reply popped up. "What nonsense are some people upstairs spouting? Do they know how good Professor Whitman and Samantha were back then?"

"I was in their undergraduate class, I know they were truly a match made in heaven!"

"Samantha gave up her guaranteed postgraduate admission to work and supported Professor Whitman's studies."

"On the day Professor Whitman passed his doctoral defense, he didn't go to anyone else; he rushed back to hug Samantha first, saying that such moments should be celebrated with the most important person, and that Samantha was more important to him than anyone else!"

"Now you call this parasitic relationship? Call it a lack of common ground?"

"Without Samantha, whether Professor Whitman would be where he is today is another matter!"

This reply was silent for a while.

Then a few new comments followed.

"I'm from the School of Physics and Electronics. I've vaguely heard rumors that Professor Whitman's wife has been kind to him."

"If it's true, then Professor Whitman's current attitude... is a bit too much."

"Am I the only one who thinks Ms. Jessica seems to be deliberately imitating Samantha's previous style? That independent and intelligent feeling..."

I didn't read any further.

These rumors are true, but not entirely true.

Both Jason's and my family are prominent families in London.

After we got married, someone had to inherit both families' businesses.

Jason couldn't give up his academic pursuits, so I had to give up my graduate studies and take over the family business.

Back then, I didn't know what I sacrificed for so-called love.

But now, at thirty-two, Samantha understands.

It turns out that in other people's eyes, I had long since lost the right to stand shoulder to shoulder with Jason.

The phone ringing pulled me out of my memories.

It was Jason.

His voice, filled with suppressed anger, came crashing down on me. "Samantha, that post on the forum, did you have someone post it?"

"Jessica saw it and cried. She's about to defend her thesis; her emotions can't be affected."

"I don't care what you think. Delete the post immediately and apologize to Jessica."

"If you have a problem, come at me! Don't use such despicable methods to ruin her future!"

On the other end of the phone, I could vaguely hear Jessica's low, aggrieved sobs.

The turmoil in my heart suddenly subsided, sinking into a cold calm.

My childhood sweetheart with Jason, our innocent bond, ten years of marriage—it couldn't withstand a few tears from Jessica.

So absurd.

When I spoke again, my voice was flat, without any inflection.

"Jason."

"First, I can't access your school's internal forum."

"I didn't post that."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

I paused, then smiled.

“Second, tell her.”

“She hasn’t truly experienced my methods yet.”

“Crying now is a bit premature.”

With that, I hung up before he could react.

Then I edited several text messages and sent them out.

One was to the professors attending the defense today, asking them to buy me some time.

Another was sent to my subordinates, instructing them to collect the information I needed and print it into a booklet.

I wanted to give Jessica a big gift.

After doing all this, I went home, took a shower, and changed my clothes.

I had my driver take me to the classroom where Jessica was defending her thesis.

On the way, my phone vibrated. It was a video file sent by Jason from one of his students, followed by several anxious voice messages.

“Professor’s wife! Something’s happened!”

I opened the video.

The screen showed the projection screen of the defense classroom.

Jessica was standing on the stage, having just said, “Please look at my research data.”

The next second, a photo suddenly popped up on the big screen.

It was a photo of me completely naked.

A suppressed gasp and snickering erupted from the audience.

Several male students even whispered, "Mrs. Moore looks old, but she's got a great figure! Mr. Whitman is so lucky..."

Jessica cried out, frantically pressing the page-turning pen, her face flushed, her voice trembling with tears.

"I'm so sorry! I was making a PowerPoint presentation on Mr. Whitman's computer, and I might have accidentally mixed in pictures from other folders. I didn't mean to!"

She pressed the page-turning pen a few more times, and several photos flashed across the screen.

My face, taken from various angles, was crystal clear.

Photos of me and Jason being intimate appeared on the screen, one by one.

The commotion in the audience grew even louder.

The video ended with a freeze-frame on Jessica's flustered, helpless face.

But I could clearly see she was smiling.

Jason quickly walked up from the judges' panel, blocking the camera, and the video ended.

Holding my phone, my heart felt ice-cold.

Students messaged me one after another.

"Mrs. Moore, don't be sad. Maybe everyone will forget about it in a few days."

I knew this was just a comforting excuse.

Those photos would spread rapidly across campus, becoming gossip and jokes after meals.

A wave of bitterness surged through my nose, and my eyes instantly welled up.

I clenched my teeth, swallowing the surging, burning humiliation.

I couldn't cry.

Samantha, you can't cry here.

But my throat felt stuffed with wet cotton, heavy and astringent, choking me.

So this is what it feels like to be stripped naked in public.

I gritted my teeth, swallowing the bitterness.

I got out of the car, carrying the things my staff had just packed for me.

When I entered the classroom through the back door, Jason was giving his final statement on stage, his voice steady and powerful.

"First, please don't circulate today's incident, photos, or videos. Otherwise, I will pursue the matter to the end."

"Second, Jessica is a student I personally mentored."

"This child is a little slow, but she's well-behaved and hardworking. If there's anything she can't answer today, please, teachers, be lenient for my sake and don't make things too difficult for her."

Perhaps he didn't realize that his tone was full of doting affection when he spoke of Jessica.

Jessica noticed me first.

Her smile instantly froze. She stood abruptly, voice shrill and urgent, pointing at me.

"Why are you here!"

"You're not from our school! Who let you in? Get out! Please leave immediately!"

All eyes in the classroom shifted from Jason to me.

Various lewd gazes were like nails fixed on me.

I met everyone's gaze, met Jessica's almost spitting fire, and smiled slightly.

“Jessica.”

“I raised you for ten years.”

“From when you were ten, until you were twenty.”

"..."

"Strictly speaking, I'm your nominal adoptive mother, aren't I?"

I watched her face gradually drain color, then gently waved the booklet in my hand.

"I've come to see my adopted daughter's dissertation defense..."

"Is that not allowed?"

I looked at Jessica's pale face and walked step by step towards her.

The assistant quietly walked to the front row and placed the printed booklets, one by one, in front of each reviewing professor and important attendee.

The rustling sound of pages turning filled the classroom.

My voice clearly reached everyone's ears.

"I'm here today to file a formal complaint."