In her previous life, Shu Lanzhou had died in prison without ever hearing a single word of apology from any of them—not one backward glance, not one shred of remorse.
Yet in this second life, when she had long since stopped expecting anything from them, the apology came far sooner than she ever imagined.
Perhaps this was the result of empathy—true, personal experience.
Guo Jialiang had now tasted what she once endured: public verbal attacks, a ruined reputation, complete loss of dignity, and finally being forced out of the school. Only then did he realize his mistake and come to apologize.
But what was the point now?
She no longer needed his apology. And forgiveness? That was impossible.
There was no going back.
"I don't need your apology." Shu Lanzhou tugged her scarf tighter around her face to block the biting wind. "For me, it's enough that you've received the punishment you deserve."
Without waiting for a response, she walked past him and left, not sparing him even a glance—as if Guo Jialiang were nothing more than a stranger, completely irrelevant to her.
That indifference, that dismissal—that was the cruelest blow of all.
Guo Jialiang felt a crushing weight in his chest, an unbearable pressure that stole his breath.
Why did even just one look from her hurt this much?
It was only now that he finally realized—deep down in a place he had refused to acknowledge—she had already taken root. He did care about her.
That clever, kind, bright-eyed junior apprentice…
And now, he'd destroyed it all with his own hands. He had driven a wedge between them so deep that there would be no mending it.
He regretted it. Bitterly.
He hated himself for not treasuring her when he had the chance.
Only when her figure had completely vanished from sight did Guo Jialiang turn to leave the school.
Shu Lanzhou, unaware of this inner turmoil, had just returned to the dormitory when her phone rang.
It was He Sixin.
"I'm stopping by campus to pick up some materials. If you're ready, want to go together?"
"Sure." Shu Lanzhou agreed to meet her at the gate and packed up her bag.
Besides a couple changes of clothes, her bag was filled with nothing but study materials.
Her entire winter break would be devoted to research.
When they met up, Shu Lanzhou noticed He Sixin looked a little worn out. "Didn't sleep well?"
"Not really," He Sixin yawned. "Stayed up too late monitoring the lab. Then had an early meeting this morning. This so-called holiday is more exhausting than school."
"I thought the experiments weren't starting until tomorrow?" Shu Lanzhou remembered Professor Mu Yanning had planned to use the break to get a head start on research.
He Sixin yawned again. "Blame Han Weicheng. That third-place project from Luo Jialin's group already signed a contract with Lin Jiayi's institute three days ago, and research is already underway."
"Guess losing Guo Jialiang hit Han Weicheng's pride. I heard he volunteered to join the project as an external advisor and pushed for immediate research launch."
"If he gets lucky, they'll have results by the end of break. Publish a paper, and he might just salvage his reputation."
Shu Lanzhou frowned slightly. When school resumed, most graduate and fifth-year students would begin internships, and professors would be reshuffling their teams.
Han Weicheng always got first pick—he taught a highly sought-after specialty, and his student applications overflowed every year.
In contrast, Professor Mu's students were often assigned by default or came from electives—true acupuncture majors were exceedingly rare.
And among the few who were, finding someone with real talent for acupuncture was almost impossible.
Otherwise, Mu Yanning wouldn't have spent so many years unable to name a final disciple.
"Is Professor Mu rushing the project to compete with Professor Han for students?" Shu Lanzhou murmured, lips pressed together. "If so, maybe I can help."
"Depends. Is this just a study on acupuncture's application in surgery? Or is Wu Cheng's nano-robotics integration also part of it?"
He Sixin rubbed her face. "My mom's going big—it's both. Wu Cheng's not even going home for the break because of it."
Her expression darkened. "She's always been like this—driven to win, dragging us along for the ride. I really don't get it."
"Acupuncture just isn't popular anymore. No matter how hard she works, she can't change that. Isn't there a saying? What the times do not favor, will be discarded eventually."
"So why cling to it? It's not like the Mu family can't thrive without acupuncture."
She muttered this as she got into the car—uncertain if she was speaking to Shu Lanzhou or herself.
"Senior." As Shu Lanzhou climbed in, she was surprised to see Mu Side already in the front seat. The words she'd planned to say froze on her tongue.
Mu Side turned around with a teasing smile. "What, not calling me 'brother' anymore?"
That nickname had always come from a place of longing. Shu Lanzhou had never had real family. Though the villagers who raised her were kind, it was transactional—she'd never felt genuinely liked.
Deep down, she had always yearned for a brother or sister, someone who truly cared.
Mu Side had always treated her like a cherished child. She liked being spoiled by him—liked the illusion of having a doting older brother.
So yes, she meant it when she called him that. But with He Sixin present, she hesitated.
Blushing, Shu Lanzhou took her seat in the back, unsure how to respond.
"Go ahead and call him," He Sixin chuckled. "From now on, the three of us are like real siblings. Isn't that right, Shu Lanzhou?"
As she spoke, she glanced at Mu Side.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he met his cousin's gaze before turning back to Shu Lanzhou.
"Is that okay?" Shu Lanzhou clutched the hem of her coat, missing their exchanged looks, lost instead in the warmth that those words brought her.
"Honestly… I've already thought of you two as my brother and sister. But I always felt unworthy. The kindness you've shown me… I've never had that before."
"I keep feeling like I don't deserve it."
"Silly girl." He Sixin sighed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "You're a good person. That's why we treat you well. What's this about worthy or not? Don't overthink it."
Mu Side nodded. "Just do what you believe is right. The rest… doesn't matter. Kindness is mutual. It's not something you earn—it's something shared. Understand?"
Shu Lanzhou looked up at him. His eyes were deep, gentle, his smile warm as spring sunlight—chasing away some of winter's chill.
He really was wonderful.
Indescribably wonderful.
A bright smile bloomed across her face. "Mm. I'll listen to my big brother. Thank you, Brother!"
"Silly girl." Mu Side shook his head in amused exasperation. "Buckle up. We're driving."
They dropped Shu Lanzhou off at the Traditional Medicine Hospital, and she entered the lab that afternoon.
She understood He Sixin's worries. Acupuncture had long been a marginalized field, nowhere near as prestigious as Han Weicheng's cutting-edge cellular biology.
But traditional Chinese medicine was far from obsolete. As time passed, its cultural and clinical value would only grow.
Drawing on her past life's experience, Shu Lanzhou was determined to use acupuncture's resurgence to challenge Han Weicheng's dominance.
Would she succeed?
At that same moment, Guo Jialiang arrived at the central research institute.
He was there to sign his contract and formalize his new position.
Originally, the institute had given him the option to wait until after the new year—but he didn't want to risk it. Better to get everything finalized now.
He had barely stepped through the doors when he saw Han Weicheng walking out.