On How To Defeat Dr. Qing Leng Chapter 9

Chapter 9 Opportunity

Wen Yelan returned to the Institute of Geological Sciences like a stone dropped back into the deep sea. The surface ripples quickly subsided, leaving only the undercurrents of the deep water surging in places unknown to anyone.

The memory of that night’s distress, his vulnerability, and Pei Yan’s sudden, yet abruptly halted, intrusion, was forcefully sealed away. The snowstorms of Mount Everest and the turbulence of the banquet hall had left no visible trace on him.

Only he knew that something was different.

Wen Yelan was more silent than before, and he dedicated himself even more intensely to the subsequent analysis of the data brought back from Mount Everest. The simulated curves of glacier movement on the screen, the data within the ice cores, the distribution maps transmitted by the airship… Only by immersing himself in this work could he temporarily forget the external distractions and the turmoil within his heart.

Professor Zhang, who shared his office, seemed to notice his recent change and hinted twice: “Yelan, don’t push yourself too hard. Your health is important. What happened on Everest is in the past, and the Institute handled things according to the rules…”

Wen Yelan merely nodded, his fingers still rapidly tapping the keyboard, his gaze never leaving the screen for a second: “I know, thank you, Professor Zhang.”

He didn’t need comfort or guidance. He only needed an opportunity—one that would allow him to prove his worth again and make up for his regrets. However, the punishment of having his field work qualification suspended was like an invisible shackle, confining him tightly to this small space. The Qilian Mountains project had already departed under the leadership of Professor Liu, and the Institute had no other high-altitude scientific expedition plans in the near future.

As the days passed, Wen Yelan felt that hope was almost completely out of sight.

It wasn’t until a Tuesday afternoon, while he was frowning over a set of unusually complex glacier velocity data, that the internal phone suddenly rang.

It was the Director’s secretary, speaking with a slightly breathless urgency: “Dr. Wen, please come to the small conference room immediately. Director Li and several leaders have important matters to discuss.”

Wen Yelan’s heart instinctively tightened. Usually, an emergency summons of this level didn’t bode well. While subconsciously reviewing his recent work for any oversights, he replied, “Understood, I’ll be right there.” He straightened his collar, took a deep breath, and left his seat.

Pushing open the door to the small conference room, he saw several people already seated. Besides Director Li and Director Chen, there was the head of the Project Planning Department and two senior researchers. The atmosphere didn’t seem heavy; Director Li even wore a hint of undisguised pleasure on his face.

“Yelan, you’re here. Come, sit down,” Director Li greeted him warmly, pointing to an empty seat.

Wen Yelan’s suspicion deepened.

“We called you here because we have good news,” Director Li cleared his throat and got straight to the point: “Our Institute just received a substantial targeted research grant from a newly established Polar and Environmental Exploration Foundation. The funds are primarily intended to support young scientists in conducting high-risk, highly innovative field geological and environmental research projects.”

“After preliminary discussion, the Institute believes that the direction of this project aligns highly with your previous research foundation and… well, your personal experience.”

Wen Yelan’s heart pounded fiercely. He looked up at Director Li, trying to keep his voice steady: “Director, what do you mean?”

“The foundation’s grant agreement terms are very clear. They require the funds to support young core researchers who genuinely possess scientific capability and adventurous spirit, to delve into extreme environments, acquire firsthand data, and solve cutting-edge scientific problems,” Director Chen took over, his tone enthusiastic. “The Institute considered all factors and decided to give you the opportunity to apply for this project.”

He paused, giving Wen Yelan a meaningful look: “Of course, this is only an application opportunity. The foundation will have an expert review panel for vetting, and whether it is ultimately approved depends on whether your proposal can impress them.”

A wave of immense joy instantly surged through Wen Yelan, catching his breath and causing his fingertips to tremble slightly. He quickly lowered his eyes, concealing the brightness that lit up within them. After taking several deep breaths, he managed to suppress the churning emotions.

“Thank you, Director, thank you, Director Chen, thank you to the Institute for giving me this opportunity.” His voice was slightly hoarse with excitement: “I will do my utmost to produce the best possible proposal.”

“Good, seize this chance,” Director Li nodded, his tone becoming a little more serious. “Yelan, this opportunity was hard-won. In a way, it is the Institute’s renewed affirmation and trust in your abilities. Let the Everest matter be in the past. We hope you will prove yourself with tangible results.”

“I understand.” Wen Yelan nodded heavily, every word ringing with conviction.

As he left the conference room, Wen Yelan’s steps were unconsciously lighter. The afternoon sun seemed exceptionally bright, and the sky visible through the window at the end of the corridor looked so clear. He returned to his office, not even noticing Professor Zhang’s complex gaze or the whispered scrutiny of his other colleagues. All his attention was firmly seized by this sudden hope.

He opened his computer and pulled up several extreme environment research proposals he had long conceived but had remained on paper due to lack of funding and support.

One of them was about the exploration and research of the paleoclimate of Mount Shishapangma, which held immense value for understanding monsoon evolution and the history of the Tibetan Plateau’s uplift.

This was exactly the direction Wen Yelan had dreamed of—extremely difficult, high-risk, but also of tremendous scientific value!

Over the next few days, Wen Yelan entered a state of near-frenzied work. He practically lived in the office, reviewing literature, analyzing data, optimizing routes, and calculating budgets day and night. The glow of the screen often lasted late into the night, sometimes until dawn.

Instant noodle boxes and coffee cups piled up on the corner of his desk. His complexion was paler due to lack of sleep, but in those usually cool eyes, a burning light now shone.

Occasionally, when briefly pulling away from the heavy desk work, Wen Yelan would lean back in his chair, watching the sunset outside the window. A faint trace of doubt would cross his mind—he had never heard of this so-called newly established “Moonlight Foundation.” Why would it so precisely target the Institute of Geological Sciences with its funding, and why was the project’s orientation so perfectly aligned with his personal research interests?

But this thread of doubt was quickly submerged by the surging tide of work. The important thing was that the opportunity had arrived, and he had to seize it. He could not fail this “luck,” and even more, he could not fail himself.

Wen Yelan was unaware that during these days of intense effort, another person in the same office was suffering because of this “luck.”

From the cubicle diagonally across, a seemingly casual gaze was quietly fixed on him.

Fan Qingzhi, who had joined the Institute two years before Wen Yelan, had good rapport with her colleagues and was attractive, with long, straight black hair and glasses, giving her an elegant look. However, her research capability had always been lukewarm; her published papers often relied on co-authorship or short, practical, application-oriented projects.

She looked at Wen Yelan’s profile, which was undeniably handsome even when expressionless, and then glanced at the application guide in his hand. Her fingers, painted with a delicate dusty rose nail polish, tapped lightly and unconsciously on the mouse.

She knew very well that in terms of academic accumulation and project suitability, probably no one in the entire research division, or even the whole Institute, could surpass Wen Yelan. Even though he had just experienced the “setback” on Everest, the data and preliminary analysis results he brought back had already demonstrated extremely high value.

This project was practically earmarked for Wen Yelan. A feeling mixed with jealousy and resentment quietly wrapped around her like a vine.

Why did good things always fall to him? Young, good-looking, capable, and even after causing trouble on Everest, the Institute didn’t seem to truly punish him, only suspending his field work.

Now, this heaven-sent opportunity had appeared… Fan Qingzhi picked up the coffee cup on her desk, took a sip of the already cool coffee, and a calculating glint flashed in her eyes.

She recalled overhearing a casual chat between Director Chen and another leader a few days ago, mentioning that the investment from the Moonlight Foundation came suddenly, and the donor had not specified any particular candidate, leaving the competition completely open.

This gave her a scent of opportunity. As long as it wasn’t explicitly stated, she wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t stand by and watch this significant chance slip through her fingers again.

Wen Yelan remained completely oblivious to this.

…

Pei Yan sat in his spacious, bright top-floor office, listening to his assistant report on the progress of recent investment projects.

When the assistant mentioned that the specialized research funding donation to the Institute of Geological Sciences had been finalized and entered the internal review stage, the fingers that had been casually flipping through documents finally paused.

“Mhm, just follow the process. No need for special attention to anyone,” he said calmly, though his gaze swept over the project title—”Glacier Monitoring and Key Issues in Paleoclimate Change Research.” He remembered that this was Wen Yelan’s research area.

After parting ways in the noisy breakfast shop that morning, Pei Yan had someone discreetly look into Wen Yelan’s current situation. He knew Wen Yelan’s field work was suspended and that he needed a project like this, one that allowed him to utilize his expertise to regain his footing and even achieve results.

Pei Yan’s action was less about compensation and more about investment. He was investing in Wen Yelan’s talent and potential, and also investing in that inexplicable notion growing in his own heart—the desire to see that iceberg shine brightly again.

He believed that with Wen Yelan’s ability, winning this project was a matter of course. The opportunity he, Pei Yan, offered, naturally had to be seized by someone worthy.

Once the project was secured and he appeared before Wen Yelan, that stern face was sure to display a very interesting expression.

Thinking this, Pei Yan chuckled lightly, his eyes softening unconsciously. He picked up his phone and opened Wen Yelan’s chat box. Wen Yelan hadn’t said a word to him since they exchanged contact information.

Pei Yan thought for a moment and started typing, [Dr. Wen, are you busy lately?]

His finger hovered over the send button, hesitant. Would that be too obvious? Pei Yan deleted the sentence. [Do you want to come out for dinner tonight? I know a place with really good taro cake.] Pei Yan carefully selected a puppy peeking out emoji and then nervously stared at the screen.

Time ticked by, and Pei Yan’s expression darkened slightly along with the sky outside the window. The few messages that occasionally popped up on his phone were work-related, which he glanced at and then irritably flipped the phone over.

*Ding~*

The WeChat notification sounded again. Pei Yan eagerly picked it up. This time, it didn’t disappoint. The message was from the contact he had just renamed this morning: a little moon. Pei Yan curved his lips into a smile, unlocking the phone while thinking about what he should take Wen Yelan to eat tonight.

[Thank you for the kind offer, but I’m too busy with work lately. I really can’t spare the time. Maybe another time.]

Pei Yan froze, his eyebrows tightly knitted together. He reread the sentence several times, then sighed resignedly. Next time it is. There would always be another chance. Just as he was comforting himself, another message arrived from the other side.

[Could you send me the address of the cake shop? Thank you.]

Pei Yan laughed in exasperation. If Wen Yelan went and bought it himself, how was he supposed to seduce him? His hand hovered over the keyboard, unable to think of a way to refuse, so he simply turned off his phone.

On the other side, Wen Yelan closed his laptop and glanced at his phone. It was past eight o’clock. Pei Yan hadn’t replied. Wen Yelan felt a little disappointed; he hadn’t had time to eat until now and had been looking forward to having that cake tonight.

Never mind, Wen Yelan quickly corrected his thoughts. Why should he expect someone to give him something just because he asked? He might as well go home and eat instant noodles.