“Have you ever studied abroad?”
Professor Derrida didn’t speak the Shanghai dialect very well, so he asked Ye Shaohua slowly in French, as she observed microorganisms under a microscope.
Just moments ago, they had discovered a new type of crystal.
For military applications, this was nothing short of an epic breakthrough.
The original owner of this body had never studied abroad, of course. She had, however, collected quite a few books. Back in Jinling, with no parents or relatives around and very few friends, she had spent her days at home, simply reading.
Her understanding of foreign things came from precious imported books and newspapers.
Still, even though the original owner was self-taught and quite bright, her knowledge remained superficial at best. But Ye Shaohua, of course, was a different story.
“I haven’t been overseas. I just learned a bit from a teacher in Jinling,” Ye Shaohua replied—not in French, but the assistant beside Professor Derrida promptly translated for him.
After that, the professor circled the test sample a few more times.
He didn’t hold back his praise for Ye Shaohua. “Shaohua, you really are my lucky star.”
The other French-educated Chinese students in the lab stared at Ye Shaohua in utter shock.
They were all top-tier natural science graduates from prestigious French universities, having returned to China after completing their studies abroad.
Of course, they had heard of Professor Derrida’s reputation while in France. Given their status, they wouldn’t even have been able to get a meeting with him.
The reason they were now assigned to this lab in Shanghai was twofold: first, to learn from the professor, and second, to keep an eye on the facility and ensure the French weren’t conducting any questionable experiments on Chinese soil.
Both sides were fully aware of this unspoken arrangement.
Yet, after arriving at the lab, these students quickly realized just how inadequate their skills were. Most of the time, before they could even process what Professor Derrida had said, he had already moved on to the next project.
That was, until Ye Shaohua showed up one day with a letter in hand.
In less than a month, the professor had already approved her participation in the most classified research.
Ye Shaohua paid no attention to their stares. She squinted slightly, surveying the lab’s layout, and thought to herself: The perfect lab is still missing one thing—a supercomputer.
The entire Republic of China era was riddled with hidden dangers. Although the original owner’s social standing was decent, Ye Shaohua knew that even these warlords would eventually fall from power.
Shanghai might be touted as Asia’s number one economic hub, but in reality—
that was just a facade. The city’s economy lagged behind foreign counterparts by at least fifty years.
If she wanted to complete her mission in this world, she needed a role that was valued, protected, and capable of influencing the status quo.
After much deliberation, she realized that returning to her research was her best bet.
Still, the technology of this era was truly backward. Even if Ye Shaohua had ideas, she couldn’t bring them to life overnight.
After all, even the cleverest housewife can’t cook without rice.
With that thought in mind, Ye Shaohua fixed her gaze on the earliest-generation computer sitting beside the professor, her focus sharpening.
Noticing her stare, the two French soldiers guarding Professor Derrida immediately stepped forward to block her view. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.” Ye Shaohua looked away. “Professor Derrida, I’ll take my leave now.”
Even after she left, the two French officers kept their eyes fixed on her with obvious suspicion.
Jiang Zijin, a brilliant diplomat who had studied in France and was also part of the group learning from Professor Derrida, caught up with her and lowered his voice. “That’s a French supercomputer—a top-tier state secret. Our country has been trying to figure out how it’s built for years, but we’ve never managed to get our hands on that classified information. Professor Derrida might seem to trust us, but in reality, he guards those things more tightly than anything else.”
“I see,” Ye Shaohua said thoughtfully. “Good to know.”
Seeing that she had responded to him, Jiang Zijin’s eyes lit up slightly. He invited her to dinner at a hotel in Shanghai.
But Ye Shaohua turned him down.
Jiang Zijin was a well-known diplomatic talent in Shanghai. His grandfather had once been an advisor to a high-ranking official of the previous dynasty, and the family was still prominent. Unlike the Ye family, which had risen to prominence midway, the Jiangs were a truly established household with deep roots.
Watching Ye Shaohua walk away, Jiang Zijin let out a quiet sigh.
By the time Ye Shaohua returned to the Ye residence, it was already late.
“Shaohua, you’re finally back?” Aunt Hong looked at her, her eyes glistening with tears.
“Aunt Hong?” Ye Shaohua went to wash her hands.
Aunt Hong opened her mouth as if to speak, but seeing Ye Shaohua’s slightly furrowed brow, she couldn’t bring herself to relay the hurtful words Ye Shaohua’s father had said earlier.
She hadn’t expected that after returning to the Ye family, they would treat Ye Shaohua with such disdain.
Ye Shaohua’s mother hadn’t come to see her even once.
And the one time her father showed up, it was only to curse at her.
Still, at least he had brought some good news. “Second Miss, your father said he’s arranged a marriage for you—with the Tang family. I’ve asked around about them. They’re warlords. Marry into that family, and you’ll surely live in comfort…”
Aunt Hong went on, saying that Ye Shaohua’s hardships were finally over, and started counting down the days with her.
Ye Shaohua only gave a faint smile in response, showing no sign of joy at the news.
Seeing her mistress so indifferent, Aunt Hong grew increasingly puzzled. When did Second Miss become so hard to read?
Just as Aunt Hong was lost in thought, a servant announced that the Fourth Miss had arrived.
Today, Ye Junwan was wearing a short-sleeved Western-style dress, her slender waist perfectly highlighted.
Ye Junwan was practically the embodiment of a Shanghai socialite. She rarely wore the same outfit twice. It was a good thing her father had fought alongside Tang Feng in many battles and looted plenty of valuables, or he wouldn’t have been able to keep up with her spending.
Unlike the daughters of major department store tycoons, who came from old money and had more wealth than they knew what to do with, the Ye family’s fortune was far more precarious.
“Second Sister, look what I’ve brought you!” Ye Junwan had a servant bring over a camera and smiled at Ye Shaohua. “This is called a camera. I asked a friend to bring it back from abroad. You probably haven’t seen one before. Come on, let me take a picture of you.”
She then tried to get Ye Shaohua to change into something prettier, but Ye Shaohua refused.
Next, she asked Ye Shaohua to strike a nice pose—but Ye Shaohua just stared at her blankly.
Like a wooden doll.
Ye Junwan quickly lost interest. She finally understood just how terrifying those old-fashioned, feudal women could be.
Even if she wanted to help her second sister modernize, she clearly didn’t have the energy for it.
“The photo will be ready soon,” Ye Junwan said, sounding bored. Still, noticing Aunt Hong’s unusual cheerfulness today, she couldn’t help but ask, “Is there some happy occasion today? Why are you so excited, Aunt Hong?”
