The day following the finalization of the review, the true earthquake arrived.
The Beijing University campus, which had previously appeared deceptively calm, had its silence shattered in the early morning by several special vehicles that glided in soundlessly. The historical case evidence Lin had covertly amassed over a long duration—those yellowed consumables purchase orders, the covert pheromone withdrawal records, and the blood-weeping testimonies jointly signed by several victims—were relocated together to the education regulatory authorities at the absolute fastest speed.
However, this was merely the beginning.
Submitted alongside these documents was a set of criminal report materials jointly signed by Silas Shen and four victim representatives. The thick manila envelope was heavily weighted; at the absolute top of the crime column, the charges were squarely printed in bold characters: Intentional Injury, Forcible Indecency, and Sexual Harassment Perpetrated Through Abuse of Official Authority.
In historical, analogous cases, these severe crimes had near-never been successfully applied to behaviors involving "utilizing pheromones to induce an individual." After all, within the societal inertia that had long been dominated by physiological instincts, "pheromone loss of control" could always serve as the absolute best fig leaf for a perpetrator.
But this time, at the conclusion of the report materials, Silas appended a twenty-page cross-disciplinary thesis linking law and medicine, which he had personally drafted.
Word by word, he cited obscure clauses regarding "utilizing chemical means to interfere with and manipulate another individual's autonomous will" from the nation's newly revised Pheromone Management Regulations. Utilizing the most rigorous biochemical data and logical chains, he forcefully chiseled a ray of heavenly light into a legal blind spot.
When this thesis was subsequently submitted to the highest judicial organs, it was jointly crowned by the legal and medical communities as the "Silas Shen Clause"—it confirmed, for the absolute first time in the dimension of judicial practice in the form of an iron law, that utilizing pheromones to deprive another individual of their right to autonomous choice constituted a substantive act of coercion and violation.
The net of heaven has large meshes, yet it lets nothing through; even the most calculating old fox could ultimately never predict the exact day the wind would completely shift directions.
Julian Liang was intercepted and taken away on the spot by sudden police forces inside the VIP departure lounge of the airport.
When that pair of cold, heavy handcuffs fastened onto his pampered wrists with a crisp clack, the refined, scholarly mask this man had worn for decades while commanding the wind and rain in academia finally shattered completely in this very moment. It exposed the true visage hidden beneath, which appeared somewhat distorted from extreme terror.
He was escorted disheveledly out of the terminal building. In the split second before he was shoved into the police cruiser, Julian Liang turned his head abruptly with a sense of lingering resentment and utter despair, looking toward the crowd of onlookers gathered outside.
Amidst that dense, uniquely expressions-filled tide of onlookers, his gaze locked instantly upon Silas Shen.
Silas stood quietly in the sunlight just a few steps away. He had not changed into a formal suit; he still wore merely an ordinary daily white shirt paired with long, slender dark gray trousers. His entire person appeared clean and cool, identical to the brilliantly stunning youth who had first entered the Life Sciences department ten years ago.
He watched Julian Liang. Those clear phoenix eyes were as tranquil as a deep pool devoid of any ripples; he did not manifest the ecstatic laughter a victor ought to possess, nor did he shed a single tear of thoroughly dissipated grievances.
He merely watched—extremely calmly and extremely frankly—as the instigator who had nearly destroyed half his youth and dragged him into a ten-year bottomless abyss was thoroughly escorted into iron bars, walking toward his criminal endgame.
The sky was as blue as if it had just been washed, completely devoid of a single speck of impurity.
Hunter Huo stood right by Silas's side. The youth's brilliant golden hair sparkled under the fierce sun outside the airport. From just a moment ago, he had been utilizing his broad, warm palm to deathly and seamlessly envelop Silas's slightly cool hand.
The surrounding crowd whispered in hushed tones as the sound of the police sirens gradually faded into the distance.
"Silas," Hunter turned his body slightly, pulling their distance extremely close. The youth's voice was low and gentle, carrying a sliver of un-concealable cautiousness and aching pain. "Watching him get taken away... is there anything you want to say to him, or anything you want to say to me?"
Silas's long eyelashes cast a small, quiet shadow beneath his eyelids.
He remained silent for a long duration, so long that the distant police cruiser vanished completely into the absolute end of the traffic stream, and so long that the warmth belonging to Hunter inside his palm nearly melted him entirely.
Then, Silas shook his head lightly.
Tilting his head up slightly, he looked at the vast, limitless clear sky overhead. The corners of his lips actually relaxed into a highly faint, highly beautiful curvature: "During those nights ten years ago, I felt that I would live in the shadow of this matter for the rest of my life, incapable of ever walking out again. But standing here now, looking at him..."
Silas paused, turning his face to meet Hunter's puppy eyes, which were brimmed with nervousness and unreserved sincerity. His voice was light, yet it carried an unprecedented sense of liberation:
"I've discovered—he has actually become very, very small. So small that he doesn't even deserve to leave a single trace in my life ever again."
The wind and snow of a full decade finally melted away thoroughly within this calm sentence in this very moment.
Silas slowly retracted his distant gaze, reclaiming his heavy past along with it. He lightly tugged his hand to break free, yet he failed—Hunter still clung to his fingers tightly like a massive human attachment, refusing to let go in a sticky manner.
"Let's go." Silas cast a somewhat helpless sidelong glance at the youth. "There's still a set of molecular stability data for the blocker patches running in the laboratory that hasn't finished. Lin can't manage it alone."
Hunter watched the young professor who had begun walking forward.
The hem of the white shirt fluttered lightly in the airport breeze. In that instant, Hunter suddenly felt that the Silas Shen who would tremble all over during thunderstorm nights due to pheromone-induced PTSD, deathly grasping his lapels in the apartment without daring to let go, had walked out completely.
He had not been saved by anyone.
It was this cool and resilient Professor Shen who had walked himself out, step by step, utilizing an isolated courage unimaginable to ordinary people, traveling from the deepest recesses of the coldest glacier out into this brilliant sunlight today.
"Hey! Professor, wait for me!"
The large golden retriever snapped back to reality, immediately launching his long legs to catch up in a few strides. He exceptionally naturally scooped up Silas's arm once more, his entire person practically sticking against him: "What about after we finish running the data? Today is Friday. Isn't it time for us to spend a weekend that belongs to just the two of us? I want to watch that newly released movie; you promised me a long time ago..."
Silas was swayed slightly off-balance by his movements, yet the depths of his eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses were entirely filled with a permissive amusement: "It depends on the progress of the experiment."
"Don't do that! I already bought the tickets, couple seats! Professor, Silas Shen..."
The youth's spoiled call traveled faintly along with the breeze. The silhouettes of the two were pulled into an exceptionally long, exceptionally affectionate distance under the bright, clear sunlight.