The stack of yellowed data Lin brought over acted like a depth charge hurled into stagnant water, whipping up monstrous, roaring waves at the absolute bottom of the seemingly calm Life Sciences department.
Those truths that had been deliberately blotted out were finally pieced back together into their most cruel, historical shapes along rows of precise chemical formulas. Silas Shen, the cool and cloistered professor who had spent a full decade bearing the infamous stigma of "seducing his mentor" entirely alone within the ivory tower, finally published a public research statement regarding the original intentions behind the development of the blockers in a corner of his personal academic homepage one morning.
The statement was short, yet it resembled a crisp, clear breeze blowing into the corners that many people did not dare to touch.
It was on the morning of the day after this statement was published that the graduate school senior sister—who had been slandered into withdrawing from school by Julian Liang using identical methods prior to Silas—finally contacted Silas actively through an old email address from back then, after remaining silent through the prolonged expanse of years.
The exact millisecond the call connected, the breathing traveling from the receiver was somewhat heavy, faintly interlaced with the distant backdrop sound of a school dismissal bell.
The girl who had been incredibly brilliant and once viewed as a prime candidate for a direct doctoral advisor in the Life Sciences department was now over forty years old. Having experienced that near-destructive withdrawal storm, she currently worked as an ordinary biology teacher at a highly average middle school.
"Senior Brother Shen..."
The senior sister's voice was somewhat raspy, the very first form of address pulling both of their memories simultaneously back into that overgrown wasteland of ten years ago.
Silas happened to be standing before the laboratory counter near the window, a test tube pinched within his hand. Hearing those words, his movements paused marginally as he lowered his voice: "Senior Sister, it's been a long time."
"Long time no see." The senior sister let out a self-deprecating chuckle on the other end of the line, yet that laughter was brimmed with the bitterness and exhaustion accumulated over many years. "Back then... I didn't dare stand forward. Back then, everyone in this society said that a top-tier Alpha's pheromones were absolute; they said that an Omega's words during an estrus period were untrustworthy and irrational. I was too terrified back then; I feared that if I uttered a single extra word, even this final teaching certificate keeping my family fed would be revoked."
The sunlight cut through the window frames, illuminating the university badge on Silas's white lab coat until it gleamed softly. Gripping his phone, his cool brows and eyes appeared exceptionally gentle behind his gold-rimmed glasses as he listened patiently, asking softly in turn:
"And what about now?"
"Now, I've seen your blockers."
The senior sister's voice trembled abruptly in this instant, but immediately following, that determination unique to a mother firmed up inch by inch along the radio waves. "My daughter just turned fourteen this year, and she is also an Omega. I think... if she is bullied like this in school or in society in the future, and the person bullying her tells her that it's just 'physiological instinct,' she will at least possess a sober opportunity to say 'no'."
The breathing on the other end of the line became incomparably clear, the senior sister stating word for word with a decisiveness that severed her past: "Senior Brother Shen, I am willing to testify. No matter what I need to sign, or where I need to go, I will go."
"Alright," Silas closed his eyes, responding softly.
As that single word "alright" dropped, it felt as though two people who had been fumbling in the dark for far too long were completely chained together.
One week later.
A real-name whistleblowing letter personally drafted and起草ed by Silas—his handwriting as sharp and clean as a blade—rested squarely upon the desks of Beijing University's University Affairs Committee and the Academic Ethics Committee. At the absolute end of that whistleblowing letter, besides the chemical data dissected to the absolute limit, six joint signatures belonging to Omegas who had once been expunged and smeared by the Life Sciences department were displayed side by side.
Simultaneously, on Beijing University's official academic forum, a public article titled A Sober Choice: The Original Intention and Significance of Blocker Research instantly mounted to the absolute top of the hot search rankings in a near-destructive posture.
The first half of the article consisted entirely of dry, rigorous clinical funding data regarding the blocker patches. However, upon reaching the conclusion of the article, the Professor Shen who had always been as cold as frost and hailed as the "high mountain flower" of the Life Sciences department left behind this exact paragraph of text:
"I conducted this research not to prove that Omegas are stronger than Alphas, nor to incite any gender confrontation. I merely did it to prove that when every individual can utilize a sober mind to make a choice that belongs to themselves, the word 'love' truly gains the significance it was always meant to possess."
"This text is respectfully dedicated to all Omegas who once lost their right to choose amidst physiological instincts, as well as that youth... who once believed he was the one at fault."
Within a brief single hour after the article was published, the comment section—which usually only featured academic discussions—instantly flooded with thousands of burning messages at a speed that nearly paralyzed the system.
"I am an Omega. Back then, because I lost control during my estrus period, I was forcibly marked by an Alpha. I self-harmed and even believed I was inherently cheap down to my bones. Thank you, Professor Shen. Thank you for making me understand today that it was absolutely not my fault."
"I am a Beta. My Omega girlfriend forwarded this article to me today while weeping. Previously, she didn't dare to use the blocker patches because she always feared people would say she 'disobeyed natural laws' behind her back. I am heading to the university hospital right now to line up and retrieve them for her!"
"Professor Shen, we had actually caught wind of what happened back then... We are sorry. We were too cowardly back then; we said absolutely nothing. Thank you for still being willing to stand forward today."
Countless wounds that people did not dare to look at directly in the dead of night were gently smoothed over and healed in this moment by this article carrying the dry scent of fir trees.
The setting sun melted like gold.
Inside the laboratory, the final set of data regarding the molecular stability of the blocker patches flickered and returned to zero on the computer screen. Silas sat on his office chair, methodically pushing up the gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. Just as he prepared to flip his phone face-down onto the desk, the screen lit up abruptly.
Amidst the overwhelming academic discussions and apologetic comments, an account bearing a highly flamboyant username left an exceptionally brief yet thousand-pound-heavy comment right at the absolute top.
[Silas Shen, you are the bravest person I have ever met.]
[Signature: Hunter Huo]
Lacking any redundant embellishments and omitting the sticky, sweet "Professor" he usually called out within the office, he called out that name—which he hid at the absolute core of his heart and feared would melt if held in his mouth—openly and honorably under the watch of the entire university and the entire network.
Across the cold screen, Silas could even visualize exactly what kind of near-pious, proud-to-the-bone scorching heat must be filling those puppy eyes—usually brimming with sunlight and stickiness—while that golden-haired youth hammered out this line of text.
Clack.
Silas ultimately flipped the phone screen face-down cleanly onto the somewhat cool marble desk surface.
The lights were not switched on inside the laboratory; only the faint blue fluorescent glare of the instruments flickered somewhat playfully across his cool profile. Silas dropped his gaze back onto the experimental report before him, extending long, slightly cool fingertips to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose once more in a somewhat transparent attempt to cover his tracks.
Yet if anyone were capable of leaning extremely, extremely close at this moment—bypassing that layer of cold, gold-rimmed lenses to look through—
They would discover that this Professor Shen, who had always been cloistered, restrained, and incapable of committing even a single micrometer of error while running experiments, currently possessed a magnificent, faint blush creeping quietly up his originally jade-white ear-tips—a flush so vivid that even the scent of fir trees could not conceal it.
That was the color left behind after being heavily scalded by his own puppy, right in front of the entire world.