Chapter 104

In early December the university's notice came through, the formalities were complete, and she could start. Two further things: she'd joined late and end-of-term examinations were imminent, so no teaching could be arranged this semester, and the university wanted her to prepare a module for the second — and asked whether she wanted to take students in this year's postgraduate intake.

She answered quickly: the module was confirmed, and she'd take three. As an associate professor, having no students would look odd. Worth noting: her office was next to Wang Xin's, which she only discovered on seeing it. She'd been in his a great many times as an undergraduate, and nobody had expected her to come round the long way back to the university.

No students and no teaching didn't mean nothing to do; on her third day she settled her research. Two directions: precision treatment and translational work in cancer, and the investigation of active molecules in natural medicines with target identification. The State Key Laboratory of Natural and Biomimetic Drugs exists to study new drugs and diseases, and the proposals cleared review quickly.

Just after New Year 2018, Li Jingyu announced in the group that he'd signed with a small agency and got onto Trainee Producer, and recording was about to start. A few days later the promotion began — and notably a second show of the same type was promoting at the same time, with a distinct air of a duel about it. By Li Cheng's account Trainee Producer took the moral round first, having bought the format; the two of them were full of gunpowder before either aired, which attracted plenty of attention.

Li Lan had no memory of any of this. Then again, a butterfly's wing can produce a tornado; the world had possibly taken a different road since she came back.

A fortnight later it aired, and the format did generate discussion; splitting the audience with the rival show notwithstanding, becoming a hit was already a success. Possibly thanks to the back door, Li Jingyu had a good deal of screen time in the first episode — and he didn't waste it, and on the strength of his singing and dancing and his looks became famous in one stroke.

While it ran, Li Lan had a rare unhurried Spring Festival at home. Li Jingyu couldn't come back for the recording, and the house was no quieter for it. Because of her, her parents remained the most conspicuous people among the relatives, and the flattery was constant, and they were modest about it while wanting more.

With that many people there were inevitably sour notes; talking to somebody, Chen Ying met one who, unable to find anything else to attack, made an issue of Li Lan having no boyfriend, disparagement in every clause — and got it returned without ceremony. Not that Chen Ying was especially progressive. To her mind Li Lan was a professor and not somebody just anybody could comment on, and nobody she knew was remotely a match, so it was up to Li Lan; if Li Lan wasn't in a hurry, there was nothing to be done.

Soon after the festival, as the universities went back, Li Lan taught for the first time.

Ten minutes before, students filed in; five minutes before, everybody was there and the talking dropped away to nothing.

She'd prepared thoroughly — not only the slides; she'd done light make-up and worn the clothes Zhang Lin had given her, to look more like a professor.

She walked into a room that wasn't unfamiliar, except that then she'd been a student and now she was at the front. Before she could reflect on it she met puzzled looks from the desks; a young lecturer always attracts attention. Dressed up as maturely as she could manage, her age was what it was and visible at a glance.

She collected herself, smiled and introduced herself. "Good morning. I'm Li Lan, and I'm taking your medicinal chemistry module this semester."

She wrote her name on the board, gave her contact details and opened her computer.

At one of the country's best universities very few people drift off in class, and in that concentration she grew steadily more comfortable, and the hour went quickly.

At which point the desks broke into low conversation, with the occasional glance towards her.

Meanwhile in the class group, somebody quick had already found her entry on the website and screenshotted it, which produced discussion. She was born in '92 — that's two or three years older than us. She's an alumna, too.

Somebody sharp noticed the title. Look at the rank. Associate professor, not lecturer.

Ten minutes is enough for news to cross a room, so in the second hour the atmosphere was better still, and she set the homework and dismissed them.

After that first class, word that the School of Pharmaceutical Sciences had acquired a very young professor spread quickly. It was only five years since she'd graduated, and not just the staff but some of the postgraduates had an impression of her; the report about her finding a targeted drug as an undergraduate is still on the university's site.

Somebody posted her record on Weibo, a marketing account noticed, and with its help Peking University's youngest professor somehow reached the trending list. She doesn't read Weibo and learned about it from Li Cheng's phone call. Possibly for want of anything more interesting, it reached first place for a while, until the new episode of Trainee Producer pushed it off.

By then the show was at white heat. On ability and appearance, Li Jingyu had held a place in the top three since the first episode on both the ability and the popularity votes. Notably, Li Cheng had been canvassing for him from the start, and her followers assumed ordinary fandom — until, three episodes from the end, she posted a video titled: A rapper acting tough is nothing. A rapper singing a love song is the danger. Li Jingyu being the show's rapper.

Curious followers opened it expecting mischief, and found him singing seriously with a microphone — and before anybody could judge the singing, her comments exploded with people asking how she'd filmed it and what the two of them were to each other.

While the internet speculated, she posted again. What are we? Same household register, I suppose. With a redacted photograph of the register.

At which both sets of followers understood: a relative after all, and a brother at that. Somebody soon recalled that he'd mentioned on the show that his family ran a supermarket, which his fans had teased him about — and that Li Cheng had once filmed what it's like to take things from your own family's supermarket, and few people had connected them. In hindsight the traces were all there.

Both fandoms celebrated. Li Jingyu's fans who had been indifferent to her went to comment, and her followers announced that her brother was their brother and they would be voting. Which sent his vote count up sharply and gave her an overdue surge of her own. A win for everybody.

The singing video was only properly noticed afterwards, because in the following elimination episode he unusually sang a love song, and while his fans were still absorbed they understood what her video had meant — and some wondered whether she had more. She had a great deal: dance practice, singing, all of it. Once that got out, her phone became the object his fans most wanted in the world.

With all of that behind it, in early April the final episode aired, and out of considerable anticipation eleven were selected to debut. Li Jingyu took the centre position on merit, as the group's rapper and its face.

The show ended and the heat didn't, and he began a life of appearances. Li Lan saw the occasional item about him, and Li Cheng remarked in the group that his Weibo following had passed five million — a few months achieving what had taken her years.

---

September, a new semester, and Li Lan's first students.

Two men and a woman. Looking at the files: the woman was Luo Pingping, recommended from within the university; the others were Liu Ming from the pharmaceutical university and Zhao Zhanpeng from the medical university.

On the first day the three came to her office, and after a brief conversation she set out what came next. Being rigorous about scholarship, she was direct. "First — you've just finished your degrees, and I'm afraid that at your present level you can't join my projects yet.

"This semester, alongside your courses, you'll complete the tasks I set you. If you want a degree from me by drifting, I'm sorry; there's still time to change supervisor."

Nobody said anything; nobody wants to admit to drifting, and three faces that had been relaxed grew serious. Luo Pingping thought privately: young, and strict.

"That said, since you're here I believe you're capable enough. When you've completed the tasks I'll bring you into the projects as appropriate, and I'd like you to settle your own direction by the end of the first year. I'll supervise you fully this year — come to me with anything.

"Any questions?"

They looked at one another, and Zhao Zhanpeng raised a hand cautiously. "Professor, may I ask what the projects are?"

She smiled. "There's no need to be nervous. Targeted therapy and immunology in lung cancer; more than that when you've joined. What I can tell you is that done well, it will be an enormously valuable experience for you."

They noted it.

Satisfied, she set the month's work. "Before the end of this semester, the one thing you're doing is reading papers. I'll send you this month's list shortly, and at the end of the month you'll give me abstracts and the questions you met along the way. That's the task: read, report at month's end. Any objection?"

They shook their heads. "None."

Understanding the principle of a stick and then a date, she added, "Your research stipend this semester is two thousand a month. Once you're on the projects next semester, five thousand. If you want to join sooner and you're confident, you can apply early."

Two thousand, and five on the projects? Startled and delighted, and where they'd been apprehensive about her strictness there was now simple pleasure and anticipation.

She was generous about money, and having been awarded this year's distinguished young scholars fund the previous month, plus the university's start-up funding, her research money was ample and could carry the students easily.

While she was conscientiously bringing on students, something that shook medicine began circulating quietly among American hospitals.

It came out of Massachusetts General first: a novel insulin had completed phases one and two, and reportedly, after phase two, the diabetic participants' blood glucose had returned to normal, and more patients were being recruited for phase three.

American trials being led by the companies, once word got out a great many of them made enquiries, and some learned it wasn't one of the majors but an obscure pharmaceutical company in China. Told it wasn't one of the majors, most people's first reaction was that it was hype — because there is no shortage of such claims annually, and companies have announced drugs that cure cancer.

Only Edward, who had taken part, knew how remarkable this eastern company was. He'd been one of the phase two patients, at a late stage of the disease when he joined; treatment in a trial is free, and being in difficult circumstances it was the only way to get more of it, and fortunately he met the inclusion criteria, and was treated there for a year.

After consultation, the doctors and the research staff decided to control the complications first, his being extremely severe at that stage: very weak, almost no sight, and ulceration on his feet. In the first month, under their care, the complications came under control with no side effects. At two months they began on the blood glucose, working from both ends, and by nine months the complications had gone entirely and his glucose was returning to normal.

Treatment over, he went home essentially cured, apart from being able to see clearly only at very close range and the extensive scarring on his feet — and he still went in regularly to check that the glucose held and that nothing had appeared.

Against a year earlier he had been through something like a rebirth, and a healthy body after so long left him facing life with a positive attitude he'd never had. The first thing he did was travel to China; conversations with the research staff during treatment had made him endlessly curious, and he wanted to see what sort of country had produced the drug that cured him.

He wasn't the only one. Almost everybody in the trial had their health back the way he had, and their changes were watched by other people with the same disease — and seeing somebody who had been in their own condition now well, people worn down by illness envied them and privately prayed.

And across the ocean, in a laboratory with every light on, Li Lan was still working carefully at the instrument in front of her.