Chapter 289 - 194: The Nanke Dream Shatters

Chapter 289: Chapter 194: The Nanke Dream Shatters

While everyone was applauding enthusiastically.

The reporter, David Kuku, was typing away.

An English news flash quickly took shape and was sent out over the internet.

The news desk in London received the urgent wire.

Soon, the bulletin would be pushed to the screens of tens of thousands of subscribers worldwide via news terminals.

At almost the same time, in Geneva, Switzerland.

Inside the office building of the World Intellectual Property Organization (WIPO).

A fax machine spat out an urgent document from the China National Intellectual Property Administration.

The PCT international patent application for the multi-biomarker predictive model for severe acute pancreatitis was officially filed!

...

Baltimore City, Maryland, United States.

As evening fell, a cold rain was coming down.

Wang Qian sat in his office, taking a sip of coffee.

On his computer screen:

First Author: Wang Qian.

As for Zou Ji, who did the actual work, he was listed second.

Wang Qian felt he was already being very merciful.

’The paper actually has a lot of value.’

’Once it’s published, I’ll probably get promoted to associate professor next year. I might even be able to start preparing for my own independent lab.’

At that moment.

He suddenly thought of Zhang Sui.

That rigid, stubborn senior of his.

’Where are you now? Hmm?’

’Probably in some hospital back in China, fighting tooth and nail with his colleagues over a few pathetic surgical slots. Heh.’

’Rules are always meant to be broken.’

’Only those at the top of the pyramid have the right to talk about morality.’

’Tonight... where should I go for some fun?’

Just as Wang Qian was pondering this, his phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the caller ID and immediately answered respectfully,

"Good evening, Professor Miller..."

"Get over here. Now."

After Miller said this, the line went dead.

Wang Qian froze for a moment.

He didn’t even need to use his powers of observation.

Anyone could hear that something was wrong with his voice.

’What happened?’

He lowered his phone, straightened his shirt, and hurried to Miller’s office.

Closing the door, Wang Qian asked respectfully, "Professor, what’s wrong?"

Miller told him to come over and look at the computer.

On the screen was an email from the *New England Journal of Medicine*.

Sender: Editor-in-Chief Geoffrey.

[Dear Professor Miller: Based on several independent academic ethics complaints, and after our own investigation, the editorial board has decided to immediately freeze the submission channel for you and your lab at the NEJM. Furthermore, regarding the review process for manuscript NEJM-08-4112, we have initiated an independent third-party review. Until this investigation is complete, your reviewer privileges will be suspended indefinitely.]

Wang Qian reacted quickly, saying,

"Professor, this is just a routine check. Geoffrey probably just received a standard appeal from the original author. We just need to reply and say..."

"A routine check?"

Miller cut him off. "I know Geoffrey. He would never block my access so easily. Do you know what this means? It means someone is pulling strings behind the scenes!"

Wang Qian said calmly, "Regardless of where the pressure is coming from, we ran the data ourselves. We used the local serum bank. As for the underlying logic, we can say it was a coincidence. This kind of thing happens in academia every day. They have no proof we plagiarized."

"No proof?"

Miller suddenly gave a cold laugh.

He opened another browser tab.

"Look at this."

[Chinese Medical Team Exposes Inside Story of Rejection, Guideline-Setting Dispute Points Directly at Johns Hopkins]

The article was only a few short paragraphs, but every word was a dagger to the heart.

"How dare he..." Wang Qian was stunned. "An undergraduate student from China... how dare he leak this directly to the international media?"

Miller was furious. "Do you have any idea how many eyes are on us right now? If I release our model now, everyone will connect the two! We won’t even have a chance to defend ourselves!"

Wang Qian’s hands clenched unconsciously.

"Professor, calm down. The media is just creating buzz. The core issue is still the academic results. As long as we file the patent first, we can still win back the narrative..."

At that moment, the desk phone rang.

Miller glanced at Wang Qian and pressed the speakerphone button.

"Professor Miller."

"Speaking."

"That patent application you submitted for the SAP early prediction biomarker combination... drop it."

"Why?"

"Half an hour ago, our legal department received a Rights Notification Letter and a PCT International Application Receipt Notice from a multinational law firm retained by the Chinese team. Their legal team acted extremely fast. They’ve already completed the global protection filing, with the priority date set for today. What’s more, at the same time they filed the patent, they also completed the official implementation of the clinical pathway in China."

The voice from the speaker paused.

"Professor Miller, I don’t care how you got the data you have, but there’s no room for us to maneuver on this project anymore. I suggest you immediately cease all related research, prepare for a public relations crisis, and good luck."

The other end hung up.

The dial tone echoed in the office.

Miller leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Wang Qian’s palms were covered in cold sweat.

He knew he had to say something, had to pull Miller back onto his side.

"Professor, we’ll destroy the data. As long as we don’t publish, whatever the Chinese team says in the media is just their side of the story. As long as we deny everything..."

Miller opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Wang Qian.

It was an extremely cold look.

Wang Qian was all too familiar with that look.

It was the expression Miller wore when he decided to cut an unproductive project or fire a researcher who had outlived their usefulness.

"We destroy the data? Wang, I think you’ve misunderstood something."

Hearing this, Wang Qian’s heart sank.

Miller’s voice was gentle. "The rejection notice—you drafted it. The request form to retrieve samples from the serum bank—you signed it. The SPSS data cleaning and model application—you did it. I only asked you to perform a routine evaluation of that paper. It was you who crossed the line, used your reviewer privileges to obtain their core data, and secretly conducted the experiment."

Wang Qian opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Wang, you’ve been at Hopkins for many years. You should know the rules here very well. When there’s an academic stain, someone has to take responsibility. The university’s reputation cannot be damaged, and neither can mine."

Wang Qian didn’t argue anymore.

Because he knew arguing was pointless.

These were the rules of the American academic world.

He had long been mentally prepared for a day like this.

Wang Qian nodded and walked briskly out of Miller’s office.

In fact, it wasn’t over yet.

He had operated at Hopkins for so many years; he had emails from Miller from the past few years instructing him to modify data to cater to a journal’s preferences.

’Although it’s unrelated to this incident, if I leak that stuff, Miller will go down with me.’

’I have to get back to my computer immediately, back up all those emails, and use them as a final bargaining chip.’

Wang Qian ran back to his own workspace.

He double-clicked the Outlook icon on his desktop.

A gray dialog box popped up in the center of the screen:

[Could not connect to the Microsoft Exchange server.]

Wang Qian froze.

He quickly checked the network connection in the bottom right corner.

It showed a normal connection.

He closed the pop-up, opened his browser, and tried to log in to the university’s email system through the web portal.

He entered his username. He entered his password.

He clicked "Log In."

[Authentication Failed. This account has been temporarily locked by the system administrator. For assistance, please contact the IT Service Desk.]

Wang Qian: "?"

Just then, Wang Qian’s phone vibrated.

He hadn’t received a single piece of good news all day.

He hoped this message would bring some good luck.

Sender: Office of the Dean, Academic Ethics Committee.

[Dr. Wang Qian: The committee has received a formal, named complaint regarding your suspected academic misconduct, data fabrication, and plagiarism through abuse of authority. The complaint includes detailed data modification logs, server download records, and copies of relevant email correspondence. Please report to the Administration Building, Conference Room 302, at 9:00 AM tomorrow to be questioned. In the meantime, you are not to have contact with any laboratory equipment or personnel.]

’A named complaint? Data modification logs? Copies of email correspondence?’

Now Wang Qian was truly starting to panic.

Even if Miller wanted to throw him under the bus, he couldn’t have had all his accounts locked this quickly.

There was only one person who could have had access to all of this.

Wang Qian’s gaze passed through the blinds and fell on Zou Ji’s workstation.

Zou Ji was already gone.

His computer screen was dark.

Wang Qian rushed out, stumbling slightly as he made his way to Zou Ji’s workstation.

On the desk were a coffee, a donut, and an access card.

Next to the access card, an A4 sheet of paper was held down.

He snatched it up. There was only a single line of text on the paper:

[Teacher Wang, you were right. In this circle, nobody cares about the blood and sweat of the people at the bottom. So I submitted some evidence. By the way, Professor Zhang Sui says hello.]

Zhang Sui.

...How did Zhang Sui get involved in this?!

Wang Qian’s legs gave out, and he collapsed into the chair.

From the public exposure in the news to the freezing of his journal submission access, from the global patent block to the fatal stab in the back.

Four lines, converging perfectly.

Cutting off all his paths of retreat.

There was no room left to maneuver.

His reputation in academia was completely ruined.

No other university or research institution would dare to hire him. His work visa would be invalidated. The small house he’d bought with a mortgage would be repossessed by the bank.

Twenty years of painstaking scheming, everything he had stepped on without a second thought to climb to the top, had turned to dust tonight.

The cold rain outside beat against the glass.

Wang Qian lost control and slammed his fist on the desk.

The coffee spilled, a yellow river flooding the desktop and completely ruining the donut.

As if all his strength had been drained, his gaze was vacant.

In the reflection of the computer screen, he could only see his own deathly pale face.

It was as if, in that moment, he could hear the desolate monologue from the Beijing opera *The White Gate Tower*, sung on the old stage in his hometown:

"Deceiving heaven and earth, with a heart black and lost, betraying one’s master for glory and wealth!"

"In the end, the dream of Nanke awakens to the karma mirror, leaving only—"

"Wailing winds and cold rain to cover withered bones, a name cursed for a thousand generations!"