Elizabeth's voice was soft, tinged with helplessness and indignation, perfectly playing the role of an innocent junior caught in the crossfire.
Professor Belfort, clearly busy on the other end, spoke succinctly.
"That equipment was sponsored by Oakmont Group. The contract includes one free maintenance. Don't panic—when I have time, I'll contact Oakmont and have them send someone over to fix it."
Elizabeth bit her lip, still dissatisfied, pressing further, "Professor, what about Michelle? After all, it was her mishandling that caused the damage. Shouldn't there be some consequence? Otherwise, if everyone operates carelessly, things will get out of control in the lab. Maybe Michelle should leave the research group? Other students will surely object if she stays."
Ah, the dagger in the folds.
All this fuss, all this maneuvering, was just to push me out of the research group.
First, she liked Nicky. Nicky and I had always been entangled in an unclear relationship; she had long considered me a rival.
Second, the field had very few women. She had been the department's star pupil, the sole female genius in a sea of men. Now, in the research group, the two of us were the only girls, and she had been quietly competing with me ever since.
But Professor Belfort, on the phone, said only, "No need. It may not even be Michelle who broke it. Even if it was, she certainly didn't do it on purpose. We'll discuss the details when I return."
With that, he hung up.
Elizabeth gripped her phone, her face twitching with suppressed frustration. After a moment, she forced a smile, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Michelle, you're something else. Even after causing such a huge mess, Professor Belfort still backs you up."
I didn't bother arguing. I said flatly, "Elizabeth, instead of spending your energy on petty schemes, focus on reading more literature. You've been in the research group for two years and don't have a single first-author paper. At this rate, graduating is going to be a problem."
Her face stiffened, like I had stepped on a nerve.
I ignored her and walked straight out of the lab.
The next morning, I sensed something was off the moment I arrived at the university.
Clusters of students on the walkway lowered their voices and whispered when they saw me, their eyes scanning me like I was some rare spectacle.
I frowned, pulled out my phone, and opened the campus forum that had just pushed a notification.
The top post bore a flaming "HOT" label: [Shocking: Top Professor Allegedly Having Affair with Female Student—Placed Her in Cutting-Edge Research Group and Covered Up Multi-Million-Dollar Equipment Damage!]
The post was detailed, painting a vivid picture.
It claimed I had an inappropriate relationship with Professor Belfort, which was why I was forcibly placed in the group. It claimed I usually acted entitled, and now that I'd caused a major accident, the professor personally called to shield me.
The comments had already stretched across several pages.
[That's her? I know her—she chased after our campus heartthrob Nicky for years. He didn't even look at her, yet she clung on relentlessly.]
[Shameless! She'll do anything.]
[The professor seems so upright… and yet he would condone this? Don't judge a book by its cover.]
[I heard her family has connections; otherwise, how could she manipulate the professor?]
The post had even been shared across social media, gaining traction at an alarming speed.
I scrolled through the comments one by one. Each was more disgusting than the last.
I put my phone away, took a deep breath, and headed toward the lab.
The moment I opened the door, everyone inside lifted their heads in unison, their eyes glinting with the same contempt reserved for a rat in the street.
Elizabeth saw me and immediately curled her lips into a smug smile.
"Michelle is here. Congratulations on finally being off the market."
A few suppressed chuckles rippled through the room.
I smiled.
"Elizabeth, what do you mean by that?"
She blinked innocently.
"Am I mistaken? The forum says… you and Professor Belfort…"
Elizabeth didn't finish her sentence, but the meaning was obvious.
Someone nearby muttered, "No kidding. If it weren't for that kind of relationship, would Professor Belfort be protecting her like this? Tsk, tsk. People aren't always what they seem. She's got her ways—we could never pull that off."
Elizabeth's smile widened as she listened. She leaned closer, lowering her voice, "Michelle, honestly, I admire you. To stay in the research group, you can pull off tricks like this. Me? I can only rely on my own effort."
I stepped forward, locking eyes with her.
"Your effort? Elizabeth, do you know the biggest taboo in academia? It's not failed experiments. It's not flawed data. It's losing the ability to think independently, blindly following others, and having no judgment of your own. Looking at your brain, I doubt you'll ever produce anything worth a damn in your life."
Her face flushed bright red. "You—"
"What?" I interrupted. "Did I get it wrong? What papers of yours can you actually show off? How much time do you spend in the lab, and how much time scheming to push people down?"
Nicky couldn't help but step in, his voice low and protective, "Michelle, enough. If you weren't guilty, would you have to be so aggressive?"
I looked at his face and couldn't help but laugh. Three years—I had actually liked him.
"Nicky, do you know what you look like right now? Like a guard dog over a bone—anyone who tosses you a piece, you wag your tail. Anyone who threatens what's in your bowl, you bare your teeth. Who do you think you are? Poor character, sycophantic, fake virtue, real trash."
Nicky's face changed. He even stepped forward, raising his hand.
I didn't move an inch. I stared into his eyes.
"What? Want to hit me? Go ahead, let everyone see exactly what kind of person you are."
He froze. His face turned pale and strained.
Elizabeth stood beside him, looking like she might burst into tears at any moment.
Just as the standoff reached its peak, someone knocked on the lab door.
A man in a dark gray uniform stepped in. Early thirties, tall and upright, with sharp, defined features.
Someone recognized the badge on his chest and whispered, "Arthur Lemont? Chief Engineer at Oakmont Group? He's actually here in person?"
Oakmont Group was the industry leader. Only the best of the best could get in—and to become Chief Engineer in your early thirties? Arthur was a genius among geniuses, elite among the elite. Knowing him, even just a little, was top-tier networking.
Nicky reacted first. He straightened his collar and strode forward, his tone overly polite.
"Hello, hello. I'm Nicky Hardy from this research group. I've coordinated some materials with your company before—your reputation precedes you."
He extended his hand, lowering his posture.
A few nearby students stirred, trying to edge closer.
Elizabeth hurried to Nicky's side, her smile perfectly measured, her voice soft and syrupy.
"Hello, Mr. Lemont. I'm Elizabeth Horwitz, and I've always admired you. Thank you for coming all the way here today. Let me explain the situation in detail—"
Arthur's gaze swept over them. Then it passed over them entirely.
He walked straight to me, his tone deferential.
"Miss Ailes, you've been overseeing all the data for this equipment on behalf of the Group on campus. Thank you for your hard work. Could you please guide me through the specific malfunction?"
The lab went utterly silent.
Elizabeth's and Nicky's smiles froze, stiff as statues.