Mu Side offered a small smile.
"I happen to know the Zhang family's personal physician. I arranged for him to brief Mrs. Zhang on the drug's intended effects and potential side effects."
Shu Lanzhou stifled a laugh.
"So even without today's press conference, Han Weicheng would have endless trouble. As long as Mrs. Zhang insists on pursuing the investigation, his web of lies will unravel. In front of the police, he cannot produce any life-saving drug—only a deadly 'poison.'"
Mu Side shook his head.
"An official evidence-gathering process takes too long and gives him chances to dodge responsibility. Your approach exposes him immediately."
"Exactly—and by now he should be arriving. After all, he's the star of today's event."
On cue, the institute's senior leaders led Han Weicheng to the stage. Shu Lanzhou stood at the edge, watching as the director half-pulled, half-pushed Han into the spotlight.
"It's nothing to do with me!" Han Weicheng snapped, flushed with anger. "Why did you trick me into coming? Because He Xin's project hit a snag, you drag me in. You mustn't care that two projects now hang in the balance—and the institute's reputation is at risk!"
The director's expression darkened.
"Don't worry—you'll be a minor player here. If anything goes wrong, the blame lies with me. Now get on with it."
"Take this opportunity to explain the medical accident at Huaxing Hospital!"
Han Weicheng's face flickered with panic—but he dared not demur.
"What is there to say? This matter has already been quietly settled. Few people know about it."
"Guilt needs no whisper," Shu Lanzhou said, stepping forward. "If there were nothing to hide, why fear the light? See over there? That's Mrs. Zhang. She's visited the institute multiple times demanding answers."
She pointed to Zhang's first wife, who stood at the edge of the stage, her gaze unwavering.
"This was a human life. If the institute doesn't explain clearly, that will truly sully its name."
At the sight of Mrs. Zhang, Han Weicheng's skin turned ashen. An ex-wife? she had prayed for his downfall during the divorce—and now here she was, feigning righteous outrage. He glared at Shu Lanzhou, certain she had orchestrated this moment.
Shu Lanzhou gave him a polite, dismissive smile.
"Professor Han, everyone's accountable for their choices. The reporters are here, and this is being broadcast live."
Before he could respond, the director guided him onto the central podium. He Xin placed a steadying hand on Han's shoulder and seated him between the two heads of the institute: himself and the director.
Han Weicheng felt his chest tighten. Why am I part of this disgraceful spectacle? He seethed—surely Shu Lanzhou had set him up. Mrs. Zhang must be her accomplice. Why else would this ex-wife suddenly target them?
And what good does this do for them? he wondered. If public trust in the drug collapses, their research is ruined. Who in their right mind manufactures a life-saving drug amid such scandal?
Only those facing terminal illness know that hope can outweigh any stigma. A cured patient's testimony drowns out any rumor. And He Xin's team had demonstrated sincerity—providing regulators with every record, every datum, every test result, fully transparent and above reproach.
He Xin gave Han a firm push.
"Professor Han, it's your turn—reporters have questions."
Awakened from his spiraling thoughts, Han Weicheng lifted his head to face the dozens of journalists clustered before him—microphones thrust forward, cameras clicking.
For a split second, time stood still as every gaze narrowed on him, waiting for his explanation.
His palms dampened with sweat. This was uncharted territory: never before had his words been challenged so publicly.
A reporter's voice cut through the hush.
"Professor Han, is the medical accident at Huaxing Hospital connected to your team's new drug? Did you personally hand that drug to your student Du Yifan?"
Another reporter followed up.
"Why did you do that? Before you entrusted the drug to him, had you validated its efficacy and safety?"
A third voice interjected.
"Your new drug gained market approval before Professor He Xin's—but according to public records, your project was initiated nearly two years later."
"In other words, your research-to-launch timeframe is under three years—far shorter than industry standards. Can you confirm you had sufficient clinical validation?"
Han felt each question land like a blow. They're attacking our entire approval process. Yet he dared not flinch.
Clearing his throat, he began.
"I can only say the Huaxing incident was an unforeseen tragedy—and entirely unrelated to our new drug. Our drug's approval followed an expedited but fully compliant procedure under existing regulations."
"We provided complete audit documentation, with detailed R&D data and multiple trial reports, fully meeting the standard for market release."
He drew himself up.
"Today's press conference is convened because He Xin's team was reported. The relevant authorities are reviewing their materials—please don't conflate the two matters."
"Regarding the Huaxing Hospital accident, the police will issue an official statement. I ask you to trust the investigators and their findings."
With that, he attempted to step down—but Mrs. Zhang rose, her voice ringing like a verdict.
"You still refuse to cooperate fully," she accused, pointing a trembling finger at him. "You denied providing the finished drug, and you refuse to hand over your R&D evidence. What, exactly, do you have? What was in the vial you gave my husband? Why did it cost him his life?"
Her piercing questions pinned him in place—he wanted to run, to hide, but the director blocked his path, and the press corps had closed in.
In that moment, there was nowhere left to turn.