"Has the medical world run out of professionals? There were so many people present—why was it a young girl who jumped in to save someone?"
"I thought these kinds of events required an invitation. Who is this girl anyway? How did she even get into something of this caliber?"
"She's just trying to show off. How dare she take liberties with Old Mr. Long's health? She's just lucky this time—if anything had gone wrong, she'd be finished."
"She's clearly desperate for attention and fame. Who barges into an emergency like that without hesitation? Didn't she see all the real doctors around her? As if she knew better than them."
"Exactly. She probably thinks having some basic medical knowledge makes her some kind of expert. Look at the people around her—she's clearly in over her head."
"…"
Aside from these vicious comments, an audio recording also surfaced online, allegedly from a doctor who was on the scene.
The doctor claimed the situation was sudden. They had approached to perform emergency treatment—laid Mr. Long flat, cleared the crowd, and opened the windows for ventilation.
However, just as they were handling all that, Shu Lanzhou had rushed in and started moving Mr. Long. Everyone knew that a stroke victim must not be shaken or moved carelessly.
They were all nervous at the time. It was a miracle nothing bad happened!
In other words, the doctor subtly implied Shu Lanzhou had acted recklessly—confirming the critics' claims that she was just lucky.
In a flash, Shu Lanzhou became a public target in the medical community.
She clenched her teeth and quietly turned off her phone.
In her previous life, it was these exact kinds of internet trolls who drove her into depression. Combined with a few senior students stirring the pot, she became the disgrace of the medical world.
She had thought that in this second life, she'd changed her fate—that doing a good deed this time would mean she wouldn't be subjected to another online witch hunt. After all, she had simply tried to save someone, and also hoped to demonstrate the value of acupuncture.
But she hadn't realized her actions had publicly embarrassed those well-dressed "medical elites," undermining their pride and possibly offending the influential Long family.
To save face and deflect blame, those so-called experts who had stood by doing nothing naturally had to speak up and defend themselves.
And she, an unknown medical student with no fame or achievements, had become the perfect scapegoat.
Heh… How naïve she had been. She had already paid the price of chasing "traffic" in her last life—why had she still hoped to use it to promote acupuncture?
In this age of internet fame, traffic was king. People would go to any lengths—even fabricate stories—for a shot at exposure. As a result, the same internet users praising you today could tear you apart tomorrow.
They only believed what they saw. They didn't care about the truth behind the scenes. Whether they praised or cursed someone depended entirely on their mood. They had the power to raise someone to stardom—or destroy them with equal ease.
One moment, they'd say you were perfect, and the next, they'd want you dead—over the tiniest detail.
At this moment, Shu Lanzhou finally understood Mu Yaaning.
No stunts. No gimmicks. No exploitation of internet fame. Just quietly doing your work—that was what true medical researchers should aim for.
Shu Lanzhou made up her mind—she wouldn't pay attention to online noise anymore. As for the insults? She wasn't taking them to heart. Compared to the vicious attacks of her past life, today's misunderstandings were nothing.
She turned to grab her textbook and focus on studying. Just then, her previously discarded phone rang again.
Her food delivery had arrived.
Since outsiders couldn't enter the medical school dormitory, Shu Lanzhou had to go downstairs herself to collect it.
The moment she took the food into her hands, someone suddenly appeared and grabbed her arm.
"Shu Lanzhou? You're Shu Lanzhou, right? We're reporters from Xingyue Entertainment. Could you answer a few—"
Shu Lanzhou tried to shake him off, but after several failed attempts, she frowned and snapped, "I don't care what outlet you're from. I'm not accepting interviews. Let go of me!"
Before she finished speaking, more people rushed out from the shadows—cameras nearly shoved in her face.
If not for the security gate, they might've trampled her to the ground.
"Shu Lanzhou, just a few words. What were you thinking when you rushed in? Didn't you consider the consequences?"
"What if something had happened to Mr. Long? Could you have taken responsibility?"
"Everyone online says you shouldn't have moved the patient. Yet you just picked him up like that. Were you chasing fame?"
"What was your true intention…"
"…"
Shu Lanzhou's face turned pale with rage. She thought she'd hardened after her previous life, that she could handle being misunderstood. But right now, she was furious.
Why were there so many people in this world who viewed others' actions through such malicious lenses?
Were there really that many bad people?
Or were good deeds always bound to be twisted into something ugly?
Shu Lanzhou was on the verge of tears. In her struggle with the reporters, her takeout fell to the ground. Seeing the hot, steamy meal ruined, she burst into tears out of sheer frustration.
"Go away, all of you! Compensate me! Compensate me for my food!"
No one expected her to suddenly explode—shouting and sobbing like a three-year-old having a tantrum.
The reporters were all stunned.
Just then, a figure dashed in from outside the crowd, shoved the reporter away, and dragged Shu Lanzhou back upstairs.
She was crying so hard she couldn't catch her breath. That was her favorite braised pork rice! She hadn't even taken one bite, and now it was ruined.
Those reporters were too much!
Once inside the room, Mu Side saw her still crying and had no idea what to do. Instinctively, he pulled her into a hug.
"Alright, alright, don't cry. Did you get hurt anywhere? Let me check."
Aside from her arm being sore from the tugging, Shu Lanzhou wasn't physically hurt. And she wasn't crying because of pain.
Leaning against Mu Side's chest, she sniffled between sobs.
"My pork rice… it's gone… I didn't even get a taste. They're awful… just awful!"
"I told them I wasn't doing interviews, but they still wouldn't let me go. It's too much—just too much."
Thinking about the lost meal made her wail louder.
"Brother, I was wrong… I really know I was wrong. I should've listened to the teacher and never messed with the media. They're terrifying…"
"They're like bandits! They destroyed my food!"
Mu Side had been worried about her, but the second she said that, he couldn't help but laugh.
"It's okay, it's okay. I'll buy you another one, alright? I'll get two!"
"I can't eat two. Just ask them to add extra pork," Shu Lanzhou said, blinking through her tears. "Why are you here? There weren't any experiments today. Did the teacher send you? Is there a new assignment?"
"No," Mu Side said, gently pulling her to sit. "I just thought you might be bored alone, so I came to check on you."
Shu Lanzhou paused while wiping her face. "You saw the comments online, didn't you?"
"You did too?" Mu Side's expression grew serious. "So you've already seen them."
She nodded. "I saw them when I opened the app to order food. But I don't care. They don't know me. I don't need their approval to define who I am."
Mu Side had already noticed before—Shu Lanzhou never seemed to care about what was said about her online. It wasn't that she wasn't hurt—it was a deep, detached indifference.
As if… she had already known this would happen.
What had she been through before that made her so numb to others' opinions?