Chapter 12: Social Graces

Early the next morning, Kai S. Gao rushed to the lab. He first sent his draft paper to Dr. Zhong, then checked the amplification progress of the slime mold’s gene fragments.

Under the automated program of the PCR machine, the anomalous gene fragments underwent 32 replication cycles, multiplying billions of times while maintaining a constant temperature to preserve DNA viability.

Preparing for genetic comparison required meticulous setup. As he worked, Kai S. Gao glanced repeatedly at the lab clock. Past nine, Miomi Guo remained absent.

Her chronic tardiness no longer amused him. This was her final year of extended PhD candidacy—without results, her academic career would collapse.

Retrieving his phone encased in a sterile bag, he dialed.

“Mornin’~ Kai.” Her voice dripped with sleep.

“It’s late!” Kai sharpened his tone. “Lab now. Think the thesis will materialize on its own?”

“Heh. Just write one for me! You’re an SCI paper machine!” She deflected playfully.

“I’ll guide you, not ghostwrite. Principles.” His voice hardened. “Graduate on your merits.”

He indulged her whims—never this.

“Fine, fine…” A yawn crackled through. “Bye!”

The call disconnected, leaving Kai S. Gao exasperated. Tao Hsu entered in a hazmat suit, his face visible through the fogged visor.

“Senior Gao, seen Dr. Zhong?” Tao shut the lab door behind him.

“Haven’t checked. Traffic’s hell from his place.” Kai pocketed his phone. “Why?”

“He’s gunning for academician status—needs groundbreaking research. Tasked me with data mining.” Tao’s breath fogged the visor. “Always buying these cheap hazmat suits! Where’s the funding?!”

“They’re disposable. High turnover. Be grateful we have any.” Kai shrugged off the shoddy gear—a battle he’d long surrendered.

With that, he plunged back into his new study.

His previous project had focused on exogenous genes in slime molds, during which he’d isolated numerous gene fragments from the same specimen for comparative analysis.

The experiment employed fluorescence labeling: if genetic discrepancies existed between necrotic and healthy slime mold DNA, single strands forming double helices would exhibit gaps or redundancies. These mismatches would fail to block fluorescent proteins, emitting faint glow under UV light.

Microbial research was tedious and protracted, yet Kai S. Gao endured the drudgery. By afternoon, he confirmed the necrotic slime mold’s DNA had lost certain gene segments while gaining others.

Verification was straightforward: tagging each strain’s genes with yellow and orange-red fluorescent markers, then mixing the “gene soup” to observe dual-colored luminescence.

Identifying the exact missing and added sequences, however, promised excruciating effort—possibly yielding nothing beyond evidence of replication errors or random mutations. Still, the anomaly warranted a new research grant.

The rest of his day vanished into compiling funding proposals.

According to Tao Hsu, Dr. Zhong had arrived. When Kai went to his office, it was empty—though his computer glowed awake.

Dr. Zhong’s private lab lay down the hall. Through the door’s glass panel, Kai saw him mentoring a student in a protective suit. The figure’s clumsy movements—and Dr. Zhong’s frequent interventions—confirmed it was Miomi Guo. Kai’s chest tightened watching her fumble.

At least she’s finally trying.

Kai headed straight to the institute director’s office. The director, nicknamed “Chrome Chimp” by staff, was a bald, greasy yet lean middle-aged man—an anomaly among his portly peers.

As the institute director, Chrome Chimp’s academic prowess might be questionable, but his “social graces” were unparalleled.

He leaned back in his office chair, lighting a Huazi cigarette. Smoke curled upward, stinging his eyes into slits as he scanned the grant proposal.

“Approving this is fine,” he said, squinting through the haze. “But your last project isn’t closed yet. What was it again?”

“A study on slime molds’ high affinity for exogenous genes.”

“Ah, right.” Chrome Chimp’s expression flickered. “Progress?”

“Paper’s drafted. Dr. Zhong’s reviewing it. Submission soon.” Kai S. Gao subtly angled away from the smoke.

Noticing this, Chrome Chimp stubbed out the half-smoked Huazi and coughed. “Got it. You go back first.”

Kai S. Gao left without protest.

Moments later, Chrome Chimp dialed a number. “Dr. Zhong—my office. Now.”

It's time for dinner, Kai S. Gao waited in the hallway until Dr. Zhong and Miomi Guo emerged from the lab, disinfected under the sprayer.

“Kai, wait!” Miomi Guo called through her hazmat suit before heading to the women’s locker room. Dr. Zhong nodded at Kai and left to change.

Soon, as usual, the couple walked arm-in-arm to the cafeteria—unaware that Chrome Chimp’s office door had locked behind them, thick with cigarette smoke.

Dr. Zhong slumped on the sofa, loosening his belt to relieve his bulging gut. He smoothed his greasy, clumped bangs with his left hand—a vain attempt to mask thinning hair—then took a deep drag with his right.

Chrome Chimp tapped ash into a tray. “Did you review Kai’s paper?”

“Spent all morning on it.” Dr. Zhong exhaled smoke. “Solid work. I’ll submit it to Nature—under my name. Kid’s got talent.”

“Decided?” Though phrased as a question, Chrome Chimp’s tone betrayed no surprise.

“Yes.” Derek Zhong exhaled smoke. “Kai’s research is groundbreaking. Perfect for my academician bid. Developing my own now? Too late, too risky.”

“But you have to take care of the feelings of young comrades.” Chrome Chimp stubbed out one cigarette and lit another.

“I’ll have Miomi persuade him. You assist. Consider it my final lesson as his mentor.” Derek’s voice thickened with faux gravitas. “In academia, research is half the battle. The rest? Navigating human relationships.”