Chapter 6: The Professor’s Disarray and a Glimpse of the Past

Yalin drew a deep breath, adjusted the collar of his uniform, then raised a hand to knock upon the door.

Knock knock knock!

Precisely three times, no more, no less.

A moment later, a clear, cool voice emanated from within the room.

“Please, enter.”

Yalin twisted the handle and pushed the door inward.

The laboratory lay in utter disarray.

Uncleaned reagent bottles, charred black, lay haphazardly strewn across the workbench, while papers seemingly inscribed with arcane arrays littered the floor.

The reception area, once furnished with a sofa and coffee table, was now entirely buried beneath books and manuscripts, leaving not even a patch of floor to stand upon.

The acrid scent of char permeated the air, making one wonder if an explosion had just ripped through the space.

Yalin’s heart sank with a heavy thud.

‘What dreadful luck. That woman must have thrown another fit last night; her mood today is surely going to be foul.’

In a corner of the room, a desk stood, where Professor Wendy was seated.

In stark contrast to the calamitous state of the laboratory, her own demeanor remained impeccably elegant.

Her azure hair was meticulously styled, and the white research coat draped over her shoulders showed not a single wrinkle.

Beneath the open hem of her coat, a pair of long, shapely legs, tightly encased in black stockings, were casually crossed, unreservedly revealing the pristine ‘absolute territory’ (TL Note: A Japanese term, ‘zettai ryōiki,’ referring to the alluring area of bare skin between a skirt and over-the-knee socks) above her knees.

‘Hmm, it must be said, those clothes were remarkably white.’

For a professor, she was strikingly young, her appearance seeming barely older than her students.

Yet, her perpetually icy countenance naturally exuded the allure of a mature woman, coupled with an air of aloofness that deterred any casual approach.

“Good morning, Professor Wendy.”

Yalin adopted a professionally mild smile, his tone respectful as he greeted her.

Wendy lifted her gaze slightly, her indifferent eyes settling upon Yalin.

“Hm. This week’s research report?”

Her manner of speaking remained as succinct as ever, not even bothering with a customary greeting.

“It’s all here. Please, take a look.”

Yalin extracted a thick stack of reports from his bag and laid them upon the desk.

The comprehensive report, spanning over ten densely packed pages, was the fruit of three sleepless nights.

However, Wendy merely skimmed through it for a few seconds before tossing it back.

“The data lacks detail, and I discern no passion for research in the text. Go back and rewrite it.”

Yalin: ‘[Smiling mmp.jpg]’ (TL Note: ‘MMP’ is a common Chinese internet acronym, a profanity similar to ‘motherf***er’, used here to express extreme internal frustration.)

‘Seriously? You’re just venting your frustration, so why pick on me?’

‘Good heavens, now she’s claiming the text lacks passion. It’s merely a research report; what exactly do you expect me to write?’

Though he had anticipated this exact outcome the moment he pushed open the door, a wave of irritation still washed over him.

‘Has this woman… entered menopause decades ahead of schedule?’

Despite his annoyance, Yalin could only suppress it.

This ‘old fossil’ (TL Note: A somewhat derogatory term for an older person, implying they are outdated or stubborn), though possessing a difficult personality and being an irritating superior, was remarkably generous when it came to ‘splashing cash’ (TL Note: A colloquial expression meaning to spend money freely).

After all, he was the only student in the entire lab; naturally, the funding would be more than sufficient.

“Thank you for your guidance, Professor. I shall return to rewrite it immediately.” Yalin responded, his expression unwavering, as he smiled and retrieved the report.

‘Money talks, there’s no denying it. I’ll just pad out some content later and hand it in perfunctorily.’

This was no arduous task for him; having penned love letters to Celeste for so many years, he was more than adept at churning out ‘filler content’ (TL Note: Refers to writing that is extensive in length but lacks substantial new information or depth).

“Professor, the coffee is brewed. I surmised you might not have had breakfast yet, so I specifically prepared some sandwiches and brought them along. Please enjoy them, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Hm.”

Wendy replied without lifting her head.

Yalin paid it no mind, placing the tray with coffee and sandwiches on the desk before rolling up his sleeves and commencing the cleanup.

‘Offering warmth to a cold reception is a mandatory lesson for any excellent sycophant.’ (TL Note: An idiom, ‘rè liǎn tiē lěng pìgǔ’, literally ‘a warm face pressed against a cold butt’, meaning to be overly enthusiastic or helpful towards someone who is unresponsive or indifferent.)

‘Though, this reception truly is quite frigid.’

Yalin deftly gathered the scattered equipment and blueprints, organizing and returning them to their places with fluid, unhesitating movements.

He had grown accustomed to it.

After all, this woman, whenever faced with something displeasing, would plunge herself into experiments, obsessively focusing on her research as a means of distraction.

The inevitable consequence was always a completely chaotic laboratory.

‘She’s like a husky, isn’t she?‘ (TL Note: Huskies are known for their energetic and sometimes destructive tendencies, especially when bored or stressed.)

Before Yalin’s arrival, she would at least make a token effort to tidy up, rendering the room barely presentable. After he joined, however, these tasks were entirely delegated to him.

“Hm? What’s this?”

While organizing the bookshelf, a photograph suddenly slipped from between the pages.

Yalin instinctively bent to retrieve it, discovering it to be a group photo.

The edges of the photograph were slightly yellowed, suggesting it had some considerable age.

The two individuals depicted were an unfamiliar man, clad in a similar white coat, hands on hips, displaying a hearty smile.

The other person was Professor Wendy as a child.

She appeared even younger than Carol, dressed in a white lace-trimmed dress, somewhat timidly hiding behind the man.

Her small face was flushed, bearing a shy yet slightly excited smile, and she was making a ‘V’ sign with her fingers.

‘Their relationship appears to be more than casual. Could they be father and daughter?’

‘Yet, their hair color and facial features bear no resemblance.’

‘Furthermore, Wendy has never once mentioned her family, and rumors even suggest her relationship with them is strained.’

‘Of course, that’s not the crucial point.’

‘The crucial point is—’

Yalin gazed at the girl in the photograph, his eyes wide with astonishment.

‘No, who are you?’

‘Is this truly the professor I know?’

‘That ruthless woman who constantly wore a sour expression, looking as if everyone owed her a fortune, actually once had such an adorable look?’

Yalin had always assumed she was born with a perpetually stoic face.

‘A pure old fossil, truly terrifying…’

‘Alas, what events transpired to transform her into who she is today?’

‘Was it scientific research?’

‘Indeed, scientific research is a perilous path…’

“Put that photograph down!”

Suddenly, a sharp, stern command pierced the air.

Wendy abruptly rose from her desk and hurried over, a rare flicker of panic evident in her eyes.

It was the first time Yalin had witnessed such overt emotion from her, and he immediately felt a prickle of foreboding, promptly extending the photograph.

“I apologize. I merely picked up this photograph by chance; I had no intention of prying.”

‘Oh, why else would I say today is unlucky? Simply picking up a book and I stumble upon a landmine.’

‘Given the situation, an apology is the best course of action.’

‘As long as I say “Sumimasen” (TL Note: A Japanese word for ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘excuse me’) quickly enough, everything will surely be fine.’

Wendy snatched the photograph, meticulously examining it. Only after confirming it was undamaged did she exhale a sigh of relief.

“Where did you find it?”

“It was tucked inside a book; it fell out.” Yalin held the book up to his chest to demonstrate.

“I see, so it was here… That’s good…”

Wendy murmured softly to herself, then, cradling the photograph, she returned to her desk and sat silently in her chair.

Yalin was somewhat taken aback; he had braced himself for a reprimand, yet, to his surprise, nothing untoward occurred.

‘Come to think of it, she seemed to be frantically searching for something a few days ago. It must have been this very photograph.’

‘Well, it’s got nothing to do with me anyway.’

He held no interest in Wendy’s past; as long as the ‘old fossil’ continued to ‘splatter cash’ on time and didn’t obstruct his graduation, that was all that mattered.

‘Time to hurry up and finish tidying, then escape this accursed place for class.’