Bai Zhi arrived at Minghua University's Research Annex on Friday morning, dressed in a simple ivory blouse and high-waisted black trousers. She carried herself with her usual composure, but she could feel the tension in the air the moment she stepped into the administrative hall.
Whispers buzzed like flies in a quiet room.
"Did you hear? Professor Qian got a report this morning."
"They said someone plagiarized a quantum AI model..."
"And it was submitted under Bai Zhi's name."
Her steps faltered slightly.
A false accusation. she could already see the puzzle pieces falling into place.
And she knew exactly who was behind it.
She knocked once on Professor Qian's office door before stepping inside.
The professor looked up from his desk, his expression unreadable. "Miss Bai Zhi. I assume you've heard the rumors."
"I don't operate on rumors, Professor," she said calmly. "I came because you called."
He tapped a folder sitting on his desk. "This draft surfaced this morning, submitted from your university account, timestamped at 2:17 a.m. It mirrors a classified paper from the Global Institute's closed database."
Bai Zhi scanned the pages. It was her style, but twisted, with sections lifted from protected research that she'd never had access to.
"Someone is framing me," she said, her voice low but firm.
Professor Qian looked unconvinced. "I'm not accusing you directly, but the school board has called for a review. Until then, your candidacy for the Li Group Creative Program is suspended."
She inhaled slowly. Suspended.
Just like that?
Later that evening, Tang Wei burst into Bai Zhi's apartment, her expression horrified. "You're all over Weibo! Someone leaked the draft and claimed you stole it from a classified archive."
She threw her phone onto the couch. "#BaiZhiPlagiarism is trending. They're saying you're a fraud.."
"They'll choke on their words soon enough," Bai Zhi said, already typing.
She still had the original timestamped files of her research process, voice memos, drafts, logged emails, and a development tracker on her encrypted cloud storage. None of that material was anywhere near the Global Institute's work. The idea was hers, and hers alone.
She sent it all to Tang Wei.
"Send it to the Li Group's review team," she instructed. "Then to Phoenix Studios. And lastly, to the university board."
Tang Wei blinked. "You're not angry?"
"I'm focused," Bai Zhi replied. "They want a scandal? Let's give them a show."
Meanwhile, in a dim cafe across town, Bai Meilin scrolled through her phone, lips curled in satisfaction as she watched Bai Zhi's name being dragged across every major entertainment and academic blog.
The timing had been perfect. Professor Qian had done his part, and with the leaked "evidence," everything was falling into place.
Chen Yuxuan, seated across from her, looked uncomfortable. "This feels excessive, Meilin. Why target her university work?"
Meilin pouted. "Yuxuan gege, you said you wanted to protect me. Bai Zhi still overshadows me in every way. I'm just evening the field."
He didn't respond, looking away instead. Meilin noticed.
Tch. He's still thinking about her.
By Sunday, the university's official Weibo page posted a notice:
"After reviewing evidence submitted by Miss Bai Zhi, the academic committee has confirmed her work was not plagiarized. The original files with full timestamps prove sole authorship. The incident is now under investigation."
#BaiZhiApology began trending an hour later.
Public sentiment shifted almost violently in her favor.
And that afternoon, Bai Zhi posted a simple, elegant photo of herself seated by a window, sunlight spilling across her desk, with the caption:
"To create is to suffer. But to endure and rise, that is power."
At the Li Group's downtown headquarters, Li Jiannan read the update with interest.
"She didn't flinch," he muttered, eyes narrowing with something between admiration and curiosity.
The executive next to him cleared his throat. "Should we proceed with reinstating her into the creative finalist list?"
"Not just that," Li Jiannan replied. "I want her on the final panel. Let's raise the stakes."
He leaned back, a faint smile on his lips.
"She's far more dangerous than they think."
The morning mist lingered over the city as Bai Zhi stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the lapel of her custom ash-gray blazer. Subtle elegance, refined and sharp. She glanced at her phone, an email had arrived from the Li Group at dawn.
Subject: Finalist Confirmation Li Group Creative Summit
Body: Miss Bai Zhi,
You are officially invited to the Creative Summit as one of the final three candidates selected for the elite Think Tank program.
The smile that crept onto her lips was cold and purposeful.
The press had called her scandal a career ending hit. But just as she'd predicted, the truth had cleared her name and now, she'd walk into the lion's den not as prey, but as a lioness in her own right.
The summit was held at the prestigious Li Group Tower, on the 68th floor, glass-lined with sweeping views of the skyline. Guests arrived in sleek cars, escorted by attendants in black suits. Media clustered at the front steps, flashes going off as key figures made their entrances.
Inside the main hall, Bai Meilin stood dressed in a pastel pink Dior suit, her smile gentle and harmless as always. A perfect "white lotus."
But her gaze kept flicking to the entrance.
Where is she?
She didn't have to wait long.
Bai Zhi entered like a storm cloaked in silk.
Her gray ensemble hugged her figure elegantly, her heels clicking in time with her graceful stride. Heads turned. Conversations paused.
And Meilin's forced smile nearly cracked.
"Bai Zhi," she greeted, stepping forward with outstretched hands. "Congratulations on being selected! I was worried about the incident at the university, but I knew you'd pull through."
"Mm, how kind," Bai Zhi said, her voice smooth. "Some might say the timing of that incident was suspicious."
Meilin blinked innocently. "You don't think I'd ever... do something like that, do you?"
Bai Zhi smiled. "Of course not. Only fools set traps that snap shut on their own fingers."
Before Meilin could respond, a low, commanding voice cut through the air.
"Miss Bai."
Li Jiannan approached, dressed in tailored black with a silver pocket pin shaped like a phoenix in mid-flight. His presence silenced the room.
"Please follow me. It's time to introduce you to the board."
In the summit chamber, glass walls cast natural light onto a circular table surrounded by Li Group's top executives, researchers, and creative partners. Each finalist was seated with a placard, Bai Zhi, an innovation scholar from Minghua; Lin Feiyan, a tech artist from T University; and Zhang Rui, a film director already signed to a minor studio.
Bai Zhi's presentation was last.
Her turn came.
She stood.
The projector lit up behind her as she introduced her multi-disciplinary research and entertainment concept: NeuroTheatre, a hybrid art and tech platform combining neuroscience with narrative-driven performance to evoke precise emotional responses in audiences.
It was science, it was story, and it was revolutionary.
When she finished, silence reigned for three seconds. Then came the applause, genuine, surprised, and sustained.
Even Jiannan's usually impassive face showed a flicker of intrigue.
"You didn't just meet expectations," one board member said. "You disrupted them."