Chapter 21 Joy and Jealousy: They won, but someone...
Evan returned to his car, panting. He never imagined that one day he would act like a brute, rushing in front of someone else's computer to take a picture.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, took out his phone, cleaned up the metadata of the photos, sent a copy to his newly registered email address, and then completely deleted them from his phone.
In fact, he had no intention of reporting them; it wouldn't do him any good.
Professor Brooke could tolerate his brief cold treatment of Ned; everything happened beneath the surface, and few people knew about it.
But if he dares to publicly accuse Ned and Ada, the nature of the matter changes.
Professor Brooke's long-standing commitment to the open and collaborative spirit of MIRA Lab would be questioned. He might see himself as a troublemaker, and his letter of recommendation would be in jeopardy.
However, Ned is too naive to think that far ahead, and he's prone to overthinking things, unwilling to let Ada embarrass herself in public. Most likely, he'll send a message offering compromise.
Even if Ned manages to hold out and not compromise tomorrow, all he needs to do is casually bring it up a couple more times to make the other party worry that he might report him at any time, affecting his mentality and increasing the probability of making mistakes during the assessment, and that will be enough.
After he figured things out and felt a little relieved, he realized that he was so nervous that he forgot to take off his coat when he got back to the car.
He took off his down jacket and tossed it into the passenger seat. He glanced at the rearview mirror; the person in it had red, gloomy, and unfamiliar eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd truly been happy.
The next day, zero unread messages. And so it was every day after that. Ned seemed to be doing as usual.
On Friday morning, he finally waited for Ned in the lounge. Ned was drinking tea alone. He plopped down opposite him and whispered, "You really don't care about Ada?"
Liang Siyu's gaze sharpened: "I advise you not to keep testing my limits."
Evan felt a chill run down his spine from those words, making him unable to sit still. He simply stood up, leaving with the words, "You'll regret this."
He sat in front of the document all afternoon without writing a single word. What gave Ned his confidence? Had he already confessed to Professor Brooke?
He had originally intended to hint to Professor Brooke that someone was abusing the server, but now he hesitated.
A week passed while he hesitated.
The assistant assessment for monkey brain surgery has arrived.
Professor Brooke personally reviewed the procedures, conducted a high-fidelity simulation, and performed the surgery himself, with two candidates working together. The entire process was recorded in high definition, and his MD students could observe the operation.
Everyone stared at the skull, dura mater, and silvery blade under the microscope. Apart from the brief conversation between the chief surgeon and the first assistant, everyone else was barely breathing.
In neurosurgery, a 0.1-millimeter error can be fatal, even though this is just a simulation on a frozen specimen.
Undisputedly, fourth-grader Ned won; he was steady, fluid, and well-coordinated.
Raphael looked pale and dejected, but after both of them took off their gloves, he still took the initiative to shake hands and congratulate his opponent, showing some courtesy.
Evan couldn't help but look at the winner, whose expression was calm and gaze was serene as he shook hands, as if the victory was insignificant.
Evan hated him for this, so composed as if all success came effortlessly, while everyone else, grimacing from exhaustion, could only watch his back.
Eben thought the matter was over, but unexpectedly, Professor Brooke suddenly spoke up, saying that there was another important matter to announce.
His heart tightened, and he looked at Ned, who noticed him, giving him a dismissive glance, completely ignoring him.
His palms were sweaty, his heart was racing, and he silently reassured himself that it wouldn't happen. Even if Ned confessed, Professor Brooke wouldn't embarrass him based on his own side of the story.
Professor Brooke spoke in a calm tone, no different from usual.
“Ada recently developed a motion trajectory algorithm for microsurgery, which I think is very promising. Ned’s recent progress also uses this algorithm for feedback, which enhances the targeted nature of practice. I strongly support such interdisciplinary projects.”
What? Professor Brooke knows Ada's algorithm? And even approved her to start this project?
Evan's mind exploded—these two wretched brats had already reported to the professor that they had been making a fool of him for the past two weeks.
Professor Brooke continued, "Therefore, I would like to encourage students in our group to volunteer and try out the algorithmic feedback to see if it is more efficient than traditional practice methods. If anyone is willing to sign up, please email Ada. Once they are ready, they will offer a trial experience to everyone."
After he finished speaking, seeing the students below discussing among themselves, he patted Ned on the shoulder and left. As he passed Evan, he frowned almost imperceptibly.
Evan didn't even notice that his eyes were bloodshot, his teeth were itchy, and he was breathing rapidly. The professor was actually endorsing their work and helping them recruit volunteers.
He saw the smug smile in Ned's eyes and wanted nothing more than to grab him by the collar and demand an explanation—had he been watching a monkey show for the past two weeks? Was he deliberately watching him make a fool of himself?
However, a group of younger students had already surrounded Ned. They were bombarding him with questions about the project: What kind of algorithm feedback would it provide? When would a trial run be available? What were the requirements to join the algorithm feedback group?
He even heard a familiar voice, now incredibly obsequious, say, "Ned, do you still need RAs (research assistants)? I can participate, whether it's data annotation or literature review."
Evan couldn't take it anymore, snorted coldly, and turned to leave.
The operating room was as noisy as a market. Those who usually surrounded him with questions were now showering a fourth-year doctoral student with endless compliments.
Several research assistants greeted him politely in the corridor as usual, but he found their smiles glaringly fake.
He walked faster and faster, as if he wanted to escape from this place.
It was half an hour later when Liang Siyu finally managed to get away and meet Cohen and Ada at the pub.
As soon as he sat down, he let out a long sigh: "My God, they are incredibly enthusiastic."
“I can imagine.” Xu Aida took a sip of his cocktail and raised the corner of his mouth. “I’ve already received several emails—one of them even included my resume.”
“I have to say, this doesn’t quite fit my stereotype of MD students.” It’s not that she’s being sensitive, but MD students are generally a bit arrogant and think they are first-class citizens.
Of course, she never expected that Professor Brooke would publicly praise her and help recruit volunteers, even though he was the corresponding author of the project.
Cohen clinked glasses with her: "To—our noble Queen of Algorithms!"
"Don't be so dramatic." Just moments ago she was chatting and laughing freely, but now her cheeks flushed instantly, reflecting the color of the cocktail in her glass.
Cohen grinned mischievously and clinked glasses with Ned again: "Of course, a toast to our beautiful advertising models, living billboards for the effectiveness of algorithm training."
Liang Siyu smiled and took a sip of lemonade, about to retort, when he saw Ada cover her mouth and cough. She had obviously been amused and choked on her own breath.
He quickly handed her a tissue, patted her back, and glared at his good friend Cohen with annoyance.
Xu Aida coughed until tears welled in her eyes: "I'm going to the restroom." She wiped her lips with a tissue and stood up lightly.
The bathroom was dimly lit, and the girl next to her was crying. She glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and saw the girl suddenly vomit, say "sorry" in a thick nasal voice, and quickly turn on the tap.
A poor, drunk girl. Although she tried to hold her breath, she could still smell a sour, rotten odor.
"You good?" She quickly handed her a tissue, which the other person took and staggered into the cubicle.
When she returned, Liang Siyu patted the back of her chair and announced the latest news with a smile: "Ada, Professor Brooke sent an email to several neurosurgery professors at MIRA Lab, copying us. He highly praised your algorithm and suggested that their students also sign up to experience the algorithm feedback."
Cohen grinned broadly: "In other words, you're absolutely famous, Your Majesty. A whole bunch of MDs are going to pounce on you and kiss the hem of your skirt."
Liang Siyu sighed, "Cohen, I don't want to imagine that scene."
Ada is his girlfriend, couldn't Cohen have used a different term?
Hsu Ai-ta laughed and patted his shoulder: "Babe, don't worry, I only allow you to kiss the back of my hand."
Cohen looked at his friend's stunned expression and almost wanted to secretly take a picture and post it on Facebook.
Xu Aida laughed, clinked glasses with Cohen, and occasionally teased Ned, which was quite amusing.
Liang Siyu glared at them, then stretched out his arms and pulled Ada into his embrace, kissing the top of her head.
Hmph, what's a skirt hem? This is his exclusive spot.
Cohen burst into laughter again, slamming his hand on the table. In MIRA Lab, who didn't know they were a couple?
Those MD students who showed favor to Ada were hoping to improve their practice efficiency through algorithmic feedback. Why was Ned being so naive?
Liang Siyu was just joking with his friend, but by Monday, staring at the workstation next door, he couldn't laugh anymore.
Ryan, a second-year MD student, actually came to fawn over her during a busy break and even gave her a bag of single-origin coffee beans.
He said, "My friend went to New York over the weekend and found this new coffee shop. It's supposedly very popular in San Francisco. I think you might like it."
“Wow, Blue Bottle.” Xu Aida took the coffee beans, her tone light and cheerful, the last syllable rising slightly. “Thanks! That’s a nice surprise.”
I must say, this gift was quite to her liking. People from the East Coast have no idea what light roast is. In the cafes here, it's really rare to find hand-drip coffee with a bright flavor.
Liang Siyu looked up in disbelief.
"Nice surprise?" She actually used "nice surprise" to describe a bag of beans? And her voice was so sweet.
What are the desk, monitor, and ergonomic chair he gave us? Is it industrial intimidation?
Her expression at that moment looked like she needed a nitroglycerin tablet to save her heart.
Ryan smiled broadly and patted his chest, saying, "If you need data annotation, just let me know anytime, no problem at all."
Liang Siyu snorted and couldn't help but think, "Second-grade kid, you should really focus on preparing for USMLE Step 1 (the first level of the US medical licensing exam). It's really embarrassing if you fail."
After he left, Liang Siyu couldn't help but walk over to Xu Aida, pull her to the rest area to talk, pour her a cup of coffee, and then say something sarcastic.
"Is all the coffee here awful? Should we get some new beans from home?"
Xu Aida rolled her eyes: "He was just trying to curry favor with the algorithm, he didn't mean anything by it, don't overreact like that!"
Liang Siyu retorted indignantly: "I overreacted? Nice surprise? You never told me that!"
Xu Aida looked at him incredulously. Every word she said was completely unambiguous and just normal politeness.
By California standards, she would be 100% the type to react indifferently, and her enthusiasm would be only moderate. This New Yorker was just throwing a tantrum again.
She's already explained it; she doesn't need to keep giving in to him.
She took a sip of her coffee, stepped back, and raised an eyebrow at him: "What, do you need me to submit a letter of recommendation right now? I'll write a whole page for you as soon as I finish revising this algorithm."
After saying that, she went back to her workstation decisively.
He stayed in the rest area, watching her walk away, then plopped down, sulking to himself. But less than 30 seconds later, he couldn't resist opening Google.
Blue Bottle? He wanted to see what kind of magical coffee beans these were.
Oh? You offer online ordering, and it supports the Baltimore area?
He ordered two packs directly. Even though she was his live-in girlfriend, he made coffee for her every weekend; it wasn't his place for outsiders to fawn over her.
Around dinner time, everyone gradually finished work. He secretly glanced at her and saw her rubbing her neck. He quickly turned off his phone, got up, and went over to her, saying, "Shall we go home?"
She nodded and quickly packed her things.
He wanted to help her carry her schoolbag, but she refused to let go and instead slung it over her shoulder.
He had no choice but to let go, pretending to be busy tidying her loose hair, and then asked in a low voice, "What do you want to eat?"
She stretched slightly and said, "Uh... let me think."
Stepping out of the building, the early spring wind was still a bit harsh. She shivered, feeling a chill in her bones and a slight ache in her back.
He put his arm around her shoulder: "Are you cold?"
"Let's go eat Pho." For some reason, she suddenly wanted a bowl of hot noodle soup.
At 10 p.m., she knew why—she started to have a fever, sneeze, and feel aches all over her body.
When Liang Siyu took her temperature, she had only one thought in her mind: if it's the flu, then it's all over.
"Thirty-eight and a half degrees." Her heart sank when he announced the number.
She opened her mouth, her throat dry and her voice hoarse: "Take me back to my apartment, we need to quarantine."
Her throat was dry, her back was cold, and her left forehead throbbed, but her rational prefrontal cortex was still working hard; he had monkey brain surgery on Friday and couldn't afford to get infected.
“Ada!” He could hardly believe what he was hearing, staring at her with eyes that seemed to be on fire.
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