Chapter 40

After sending the message, Lin Shuicheng waited patiently for a response.

Minutes ticked by, five, ten...

Lin Shuicheng put down his phone to prepare himself a bowl of hand-pulled noodles, garnished with chili flakes and thinly sliced tender beef, along with perfectly cooked leafy greens.

Half an hour later, Luo Song finally replied with a simple question mark: "?"

Copying his previous inquiry, Lin Shuicheng asked again, "May I ask why Professor used my data and report outline to write this paper and submit it to the journal?"

Luo Song responded, "How did you find out about this?"

Silent, Lin Shuicheng didn't reply.

Luo Song continued, "Oh, I see. It must be either Professor Yang Shen or Xu Kong, right? Do they know the reviewers or the editor-in-chief?"

Lin Shuicheng replied, "How I found out is not relevant to our relationship, but I hope you can provide an explanation."

There was another stretch of silence from Luo Song's end. After a while, he sent an image.

Lin Shuicheng was taken aback.

He clicked on the image and found that Luo Song had screenshotted an email that had already been sent, with the recipient being the official email address of TFCJO. The status indicated "under review," which was a common state for articles after passing external review and being accepted by the journal's editor.

In this state, it was impossible to modify the original email. The part Luo Song had screenshot was precisely the signature section.

A few words were highlighted in bold black.

Research Institution: Star University's Department of Mathematics; Compiler: Luo Song.

Luo Song then sent him another message: "You can see clearly that I sent it on behalf of Star University's Department of Mathematics. I am the compiler. This is the content for TFCJO's invitation to submit. Your achievements won't be touched. I'm submitting the content to the journal under the school's name. Is there a problem?"

Lin Shuicheng's fingers froze.

Luo Song continued: "Young students like you easily get carried away by rumors. What do you mean by coming to me? Do you think I would steal ideas from our math students? You may not be my direct student, but do you really believe I'd do such a thing?"

Lin Shuicheng fell silent for a long while before typing, "But at least, you should have asked for my consent first..."

"Didn't I? Lin Shuicheng, don't you think the first sentence of our conversation was seeking your opinion and informing you?" Luo Song's reply followed. "Lin Shuicheng, you're excellent, but remember your position. In all these years at Star University, I've seen many outstanding students and geniuses. The department values talent, which is why you got this opportunity. Although it's under the department's name, it's still an invitation from TFCJO. The editors and reviewers will see your work. If they inquire, I'll tell them it's the product of our math students. What about you? And the professors you trust? How do you view me? Regardless of how you found me, you've already violated the double-blind review rule in journal submissions. I'll report this situation to the editor-in-chief accordingly."

Lin Shuicheng’s fingers hovered above the keyboard, but he didn't press down on any keys for a long time.

The other party had spoken with such righteousness that he momentarily didn't know how to refute him.

It was true that Star University submitted manuscripts in the name of their departments every year, but they were usually published in school-level journals to fulfill task indicators. Departmental research projects were an annual occurrence, but Luo Song was the first to submit such a project in the name of the department to a core journal – this unusual move just happened to confirm that he had ulterior motives.

As for "opportunities" and "mentoring," what Luo Song said was a fallacy. No one would ask about the core creator behind the report. Once it was published, all attention would be on "Compiled by: Luo Song," and all the credit would go to Luo Song.

Moreover, with Luo Song's submission potentially being made public, even if Lin Shuicheng were to submit his own manuscript later, it would violate a major taboo among publishers – submitting the same content to multiple publications. Unless there were exceptional circumstances, it wouldn't be accepted, especially since Lin Shuicheng was a recent transfer student with no connections in any aspect.

From the looks of it, Luo Song hadn't asked for the core data from the beginning with this intention. He knew that the commissioned work wouldn't likely be rejected or require major revisions, and under lowered standards, his paper might still be published even without the core data set. If the truth ever came out, he could show everyone that he hadn't stolen any data; he had merely compiled the results of an outstanding student in the department without hindering the student from submitting a complete report under their own name.

Although these were unspoken rules they both understood, they weren't sufficient reasons for Lin Shuicheng to refute Luo Song – Luo Song had placed himself on a moral high ground!

If Lin Shuicheng continued speaking, he would appear ungrateful and lacking in the broader perspective of the department, nitpicking over trivial matters.

Lin Shuicheng: "…Do you have time to meet me, Teacher?"

Luo Song, however, didn't reply to him.

Lin Shuicheng continued typing, "Professor, have you ever considered why I haven't submitted the content of this report for almost a month?"

This time, Luo Song replied, "I submit to journals under the department's name, which doesn't affect your ability to submit individually. It's none of my business whether or not you've submitted. Besides, apart from TFCJO and a few other publishers with expedited processes, most reviews take one to three months. If I were truly interested in your report, why would I risk the timing? I only mentioned it because the deadline for the invitation letter was approaching, so I thought I'd give your work some exposure."

Lin Shuicheng responded, "…Professor, have you noticed the inconsistency in your words? Since you said that the order of individual and departmental publications doesn't affect the acceptance of later papers, then why emphasize the review time and sequence?"

Luo Song answered, "Aren't I explaining to you? How do I know that you're unclear about these implications, and that's why I'm explaining? Lin Shuicheng, there's no need to distrust me like this. I'm your teacher; would I harm you?"

"…" Lin Shuicheng persisted, "This research cannot be published, Professor. Neither personally nor from the military's perspective can it be made public. I wanted to discuss this with you. When are you available?"

Luo Song: "I have classes to teach and no time to meet you. The college hasn't received any notification regarding the military, so there's no need for you to be so agitated."

It wasn't him who approved Lin Shuicheng's application for project funding under his personal name. When He Muya's team was handing over the matter, as Dean Shen Zhui was under suspension for investigation, it was the university president who gave the green light. Most of the teachers in the college were still unaware that Lin Shuicheng had been advised against publishing his paper. All attendees at the meeting that day did indeed receive confidentiality notices – but those notices only mentioned keeping the symposium confidential. Everyone naturally assumed this secrecy referred to He Muya's appearance.

Therefore, Han Huang and others could discreetly hint on forums that the project was ultimately completed by Lin Shuicheng.

None of those posts have been deleted, and from this, one could deduce the military's intentions – while they claimed to contact Lin Shuicheng for his safety, they were more concerned about preventing the report's content from being leaked. The police department's "unsolved" notice could also be seen as a smokescreen to the Random organization.

Lin Shuicheng pulled up his contacts on his phone. There, He Muya and Xu Hang's contact information lay safely stored.

He gave it a glance and then switched off his phone.

In truth, he didn't particularly enjoy interacting with the military, in every sense of the word.

Lowering his gaze, he was just about to get up and change clothes to head out when his phone lit up again. The caller ID read: "Student Union President Han Huang."

Lin Shuicheng answered.

He had assumed that Han Huang was calling to inquire about their dinner plans, but the first words out of Han Huang's mouth were, "What happened between you and Professor Luo Song?"

Lin Shuicheng was taken aback. "…What?"

Seeing that Lin Shuicheng was still confused, Han Huang explained, "Search on the social platform. Professor Luo Song has an authenticated account. He just posted something, and although he didn't mention names, I immediately knew it was about you. Check it out and see if there's been a misunderstanding."

Following Han Huang's instructions, Lin Shuicheng found Luo Song's verified account—his profile stated that he was the Deputy Dean of the Mathematics Department at Star City University.

The latest post on this account was a long message.

@LuoSongV: Today has been quite an eye-opener. Previously, a student I admired gave a presentation on quantum analysis. I kindly edited and recommended it to a journal editor I knew, vouching for its publication on behalf of the academy as a talent referral. Somehow, the student managed to get in touch with one of the anonymous reviewers, who saw my recommendation and, for some reason, concluded that I intended to plagiarize his work. They even confronted me about it. Students nowadays are too impetuous. It doesn't bother me much, but I can't help but worry about the future of the Alliance if this is the attitude of today's top students.

Additional Comment: The issue of how the double-blind review process was compromised, either by him or someone he knows, is also a concern for me. With recent academic integrity reforms, I believe journals should be more stringent in their evaluations. Shouldn't there be consequences for reviewers who deliberately violate the double-blind rule?

Comment Section 1: @Professor Luo, you seem quite upset. Posting this at noon... your student doesn't know when to stop, huh? Ignoring good intentions...

Comment Section 2: @Teacher Mo, don't be angry, don't be angry. Quantum analysis? Another report from that department? I think I decoded it... A secret code, Lin? Seriously? He's that kind of person? And the double-blind system is almost meaningless now... Do reviewers have no professional ethics? It means they can see our submitted papers clearly?

Hearing the silence on the other end of the line, Han Huang asked, "Did you see it?"

Lin Shuicheng replied, "Yes, thank you. I'm working on solving it. About the manuscript—"

"I know you're not that kind of person. No need to explain to me," Han Huang said. "Is there anything I can do to help, Lin Shuicheng?"

Lin Shuicheng was taken aback again before he said, "It's alright on my end, really. Thank you very much. Twice you've warned me, thank you, no need to worry about me."

Han Huang sighed in relief. Lin Shuicheng's voice was detached yet warm, always sounding dependable. When he said it was alright, it genuinely sounded that way, giving one a sense of complete reassurance.

While Han Huang was pondering what else to say, Lin Shuicheng chuckled on the other end. "Let's have lunch together tomorrow afternoon, junior. Don't forget."

Startled, Han Huang found the call had already ended. An officer sitting across from him at the student council desk glanced over and teased, "The chairman is smitten again! Look at that expression!"

"Scram, don't talk nonsense." Han Huang touched his face.

After Lin Shuicheng put down his phone, he researched the topic and pondered for a moment before calling Fu Luoyin again.

Fu Luoyin answered promptly. "Hello? You're awake?"

Lin Shuicheng checked the time; it was noon. Fu Luoyin seemed to assume that he was as fond of sleeping as a calf cat, perhaps due to the stereotype that "the chief is your offspring, so they take after you." It was unclear when this impression had formed.

Lin Shuicheng spoke softly, "I have a question for you that I couldn't find online. If an evaluator violates the double-blind rule... what would be the consequences?"

Fu Luoyin paused on his side, "What's the matter with you?"

Lin Shuicheng replied, "I'm just inquiring, if an evaluator voluntarily reveals their identity, what sort of repercussions would there be?"

He wasn't concerned about losing his eligibility to review for TFCJO; he was more worried that – as a result of this incident – all journals might bar him from reviewing in the future, which would be a loss outweighing the gain.

He had already discovered a way to improve himself through the review process, swiftly learning from the forefront thinkers in the industry, staying informed of current research trends, and understanding the level of technological development. Such opportunities were truly precious to him.

Fu Luoyin chuckled, "Why, did someone bully you? Who dared to bully you? Suddenly asking this, let me think… Were you given a hard time by the review committee, or did you happen to stumble upon an enemy's manuscript? Or perhaps someone plagiarized your paper and it just so happened to cross your path?"

His sharpness often reached astonishing levels, even exuding a subtle sense of intimidation – even though he was just casually guessing, his understanding of one's character and situation, his familiarity with the world, and his matured wisdom often made people feel as if they were completely exposed.

Yet, at times, he could be rather slow on the uptake – Fu Luoyin didn't pay much attention to anything beyond the main affairs in life. Despite his calm and meticulous demeanor outside, there was a touch of a spoiled brat about him.

Lin Shuicheng: "…No one has bullied me. You tell me."

It was an authoritative tone.

Fu Luoyin clearly enjoyed his fierce demeanor – like a little kitten baring its claws.

After laughing for a while, he was evidently in a good mood. "The consequences of violating double-blind protocols depend on the situation. If it's a reviewer, author, or editor colluding to publish a manuscript, that's academic misconduct, and it's currently under strict scrutiny. You're a good student, so I'll assume you didn't encounter something like that, right?"

Lin Shuicheng remained silent.

Silence was an implicit admission.

He wasn't quite sure how to engage in conversation with someone like Fu Luoyin – his sharpness, his sophistication, his precocious experience in society despite being only a few years older. All these were like knives piercing directly into his world. It was neither a good nor bad feeling.

He was simply unaccustomed to it.

"Should it be me being exposed or encountering an enemy, the consequences of breaking this double-blind setup would be comparable to not completing your elementary school winter holiday homework," Fu Luoyin remarked.

Lin Shuicheng replied, "…What kind of analogy is that?"

Fu Luoyin continued, "Back in primary school, even being late felt like the end of the world, let alone not finishing your holiday homework. As children then—me or you—we were confined by our limited understanding and intimidated by the school's authority. We perceived being late or losing an assignment as grave, irreparable mistakes, perhaps even catastrophic blows to our young school lives…"

Lin Shuicheng responded with a simple, "…."

He sensed that Fu Luoyin was teasing him and asked impatiently, "What's your point?"

"It's the same with this situation. The consequences depend on how you perceive it. For a primary school student, losing winter holiday homework might seem like an irreparable disaster, but looking back now, it's just a matter for a good laugh. Losing your homework, getting scolded, and having your parents talk to the teacher – it's not that big of a deal," Fu Luoyin said. "Breaking the double-blind protocol might be a devastating blow for a young researcher in academia, but we can also view it from a broader perspective."

Lin Shuicheng asked, "So you're saying it's not that severe? There won't be significant long-term consequences, and the violation of the double-blind will only lead to temporary public pressure?"

If that was the case, it seemed manageable.

Although he had his reasons, the fact remained that he intentionally tested the author's identity, breaching the double-blind protocol. He couldn't deny that.

Fu Luoyin replied, "No, what I mean is, you can turn to your parents."

Lin Shuicheng: "Huh?"

Fu Luoyin chuckled. "Do as you wish. There will be obstacles along the right path. But it's not worth wasting your time just to stumble. Be more courageous, young one."

Lin Shuicheng: "?"

Fu Luoyin continued to smile. "Go ahead and do your part, while I'll inform your elementary school teacher that you haven't done your winter vacation homework."

With that, he hung up the phone.

In the Jiangnan branch, in the top-tier reception room of Fu's Military and Technological Corporation, Fu Luoyin was dressed in a sharp suit, standing tall with an aura of intensity.

The moment he stepped into the parlour, every person within rose to their feet in unison to greet him. Leading them was a man with lustrous chestnut hair and piercing blue eyes, exuding an aura of composure and refinement.

A name tag hung on his chest: Kim Lee.

At the behest of the Alliance Government, Fu's Military-Grade Technology formally entrusted the B40016102 project to his team, with both primary and secondary groups collaborating in its advancement. The composition of the secondary group remains pending. From this juncture forth until the successful culmination of the B4 project, Fu's Military-Grade Technology will stand as the sole client for Team Kim Lee.