At the Academic Conference, I Publicly Executed My Fiancé and His Student

: A Cruel Joke

But the more vitriol she received in the post's comments, the more smug and brazen she became: [Gotta go! The professor's fiancée is sick, and he was afraid I'd catch it, so he's taking me on a trip abroad to get away from it all.]

And yet, just this morning before he left, Julian Forrester had held me in my sickly, listless state, his voice gentle and full of heartache. "While I'm abroad for the conference, I'll definitely look for some new experimental approaches for you. You just be good and rest at home. Don't wear yourself out again; it breaks my heart to see you like this."

He knew full well that this was the final year for my professional review.

Yet he had cruelly stolen my research proposal and given it to someone else.

My only choice was to race against the clock before the year's end, working day and night to develop a new project, running my body into the ground in the process.

When I saw him off at the airport, I was wiping away tears, filled with guilt. I blamed myself for being too sick to stand by him, leaving him to worry and handle my affairs all on his own.

Who could have known that not only would he stab me in the back, but he would also take his lover abroad for a scenic getaway during my most difficult time.

RING RING— My phone suddenly blared. It was Julian Forrester.

Whenever he traveled, he always called to tell me he'd landed safely at the first opportunity.

On the other end of the line, his voice was full of concern. "Zoe, why does your voice sound so hoarse? Have you not been resting and taking your medicine again?"

When I didn't say anything, he spoke as if he'd made a momentous decision. "I've thought it over. Even if you can't come up with a new research project, I'll use my connections to make sure you pass this evaluation."

'Heh. So the high-and-mighty Professor Forrester was really willing to spare no expense for me.'

'But how could he not know? If he really did that, I would be forever branded on a pillar of shame as someone who got ahead through connections, with no real talent or substance.'

"Julian, you once said you didn't want to see a pearl covered in dust, that you didn't want me to be the subject of gossip..."

He cut me off with a light sigh, his tone incredibly sincere. "But I can't just watch the person I love most at a complete loss. Besides, you're already the best in my heart. Even if people accuse me of abusing my power for personal reasons, I'll accept it!"

He sounded so genuine and passionate, but my heart sank with every word.

A moment later, a soft, sweet female voice drifted faintly from the other end of the line.

I gripped my phone tighter and asked in a low voice, "Who's outside your door?"

He gave a sudden, light cough, trying to cover his panic. "It's the staff. I asked them to bring some pen and paper."

"Alright, darling, you have to take good care of yourself. There are snacks I bought for you in the fridge. Even if you don't have an appetite, try to eat a little."

'It seems his hurry to check in with me right after landing at his hotel wasn't consideration. It was just fear that I'd make a surprise call and ruin the good time he was having with his lover.'

'Five years. We were together day in and day out. I poured my heart and soul into this relationship, and in the end, it was all just one big joke.'

Late that night, I opened the post again. She had a new update:

[I've finally pulled the Idol on the Pedestal from his pedestal. In life, he remembers what I like to eat; in academics, he holds my hand and teaches me how to publish papers. Getting together with him was simply a matter of course. He said tonight was his most unforgettable night.]

I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, and closed the post.

Suppressing the storm of emotions inside me, I pulled open the refrigerator. The snack inside was covered in crushed peanuts.

And I'm allergic to peanuts.

That post's daily updates chronicled Julian Forrester's attentiveness to her; he'd searched several streets just to buy her a peanut rice cake.

That snack was a favorite of that female student, not mine.

In the end, I sent Julian Forrester a message: [Julian Forrester, are you really going to abuse your position like this?]

But he thought I was talking about the evaluation and replied earnestly: [Zoe, who in our field doesn't know you're my fiancée? Even if I do nothing, you'll inevitably face gossip after you pass. It's better if I actually pull some strings for you; at least you'll get something real out of it.]

'He's right. Even if he did nothing, even after I climbed to the top of my field step-by-step on my own merit and became Chief Science Officer, people would still look at me with prejudice.'

It was just like how we didn't officially become a couple until after I graduated,

but someone with malicious intent still reported us.

They claimed I'd had an improper relationship with my advisor while I was still a student.

The online criticism, with its vicious wording, became too vile to even look at.

For years, to break free from those shackles, I threw myself into the lab.

I worked day and night, chasing results, conducting research, until I finally earned everyone's recognition and was recommended for the position of Chief Science Officer of the research institute.

He saw it all happen. He saw the countless sleepless nights I endured to earn, bit by bit, my dignity and my confidence.

And now, with a few casual words, he was crushing everything I had fought with all my might to protect.

The man who once faced down layered investigations from the university, the Disciplinary Committee, and the Office of Petitions for my sake, refusing to yield an inch in my defense.

The man who would rather give up the easily attainable title of Academician than agree to break up with me—that man was long gone.

All that was left was a disgusting, sleazy shell of a man.