Lucky Golden Dragon in the 80s: My Dad? I Switched Him for a Better One

She ground her back teeth, the tip of her pen poking a small hole in the paper.

"Whoever is assigned a task should be the one to do it. Don’t think you can poke your nose into every little thing and steal credit just because you’ve got a babyface and some cheap tricks. Have you no shame?"

She shot to her feet, raising her voice a few notches and deliberately speaking slowly and clearly.

When she finished, she glanced around the room as if seeking everyone’s approval.

Xiao Yu immediately nodded in agreement, her face a mask of righteous indignation.

"Watch your mouth, Xiao Yuan!"

Her senior blew up at that, instantly firing back.

She slammed the documents in her hand onto the desk and spun around to face her.

Her earlier joy was instantly washed away, replaced by intense indignation and anger.

She knew exactly how much Shanshan had helped her and wouldn’t stand for anyone slandering her like this.

Shanshan just grinned, putting on an innocent look as she patted her senior’s hand.

She wasn’t angry. In fact, she found it rather amusing.

A provocation of this level wasn’t even worth her notice. It was less important than the soy milk she’d bought that morning.

She tilted her head, a hint of mockery in her tone.

"Well, since you feel I shouldn’t be meddling, I won’t touch your part of the project. You can handle it on your own. Let’s go, Senior. My treat for a meal this afternoon, pick anywhere you like!"

With that, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed for the door with a spring in her step.

She was never one to fear conflict, much less worry about offending anyone.

Her senior’s eyes lit up.

It took her a second to process what that meant, and then she jumped up in excitement.

Figuring out what to have for lunch was always a struggle. Now, not only was someone else paying, but she could pick whatever she wanted.

Her mind was already racing, trying to decide which hot pot place to go to.

"For real? Awesome! Shanshan, you’re my savior! Xiao Wang, you guys coming?"

She yelled as she rushed out the door, completely forgetting how she’d been moping just moments before.

Xiao Wang and two other students immediately answered the call, all of them scrambling to pack their things and get going.

"We’re coming, we’re coming! We gotta stick with Boss Shanshan!"

They all crowded together, laughing and joking, their cheerful voices echoing down the hall.

Someone suggested taking a group photo, while another joked that Shanshan should be in charge of their next team-building event, too.

The atmosphere was as relaxed as a weekend get-together. No one spared a single glance back at the corner of the lab.

In the blink of an eye, the room emptied out in a flurry, leaving Yuan Zhihe standing alone, completely stunned.

The air fell silent, the only sound being the low hum of the ventilation system.

She stared at the empty seats, her lips trembling and her face flushed crimson.

She had expected someone to stay behind and watch her work, but instead, everyone had left without a moment’s hesitation.

At first, she didn’t think it was a big deal, but she was stumped within minutes of starting.

She picked up the instruction manual, trying to follow the steps one by one.

But right from the first step, she didn’t know how to convert the reagent measurements. The jumble of different units made her head spin.

She didn’t recognize any of the technical jargon in the notes, nor could she figure out which port the diagram was pointing to.

With no one to guide her and no one to ask, the professor’s instructions just made her head buzz.

She flipped through the document several times, but it only made her more confused. Finally, she just stopped to take a breath.

The equipment beside her beeped, and she had no idea if she was supposed to press the confirmation button.

She wanted to ask someone for help, but when she looked up, she saw that even the person on duty wasn’t at their station.

The truth was, she hadn’t gotten into the graduate program on her merits. All her previous hands-on experience had come from senior students teaching her in shifts.

As an undergrad, she’d passed exams by cramming and written her lab reports by copying templates, barely maintaining a slightly above-average GPA.

Her advisor, valuing her family background, had given her a recommendation for the graduate program. After she joined the research group, someone had always been assigned to walk her through every step.

But now, no one was willing to approach her, let alone offer help.

Now that it was all dumped on her, she was completely out of her depth.

The equipment’s alarm went off several times, but she didn’t dare touch anything, so she could only sit there and wait.

She didn’t know how to export the auto-saved system logs, and she couldn’t even unlock the computer screen when it locked.

The seconds ticked by, but the progress bar remained stuck at zero percent.

By the time she finally realized something was wrong and decided to call for help, everyone was long gone.

She pulled out her phone to send a group message, only to find that everyone had set their status to Do Not Disturb.

She called Xiao Yu, but after six rings, it went to voicemail.

She stood before the lab bench, hands hanging limply at her sides, feeling utterly alone and helpless for the first time.

After sitting there uselessly for what felt like an eternity and getting nowhere, she finally gave up, pushed her chair back, and leaned back.

She leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes, completely still.

The documents lay scattered on the desk, and the screen was still on the startup page, as if mocking her incompetence.

The lab fell silent again, leaving only the sound of her soft breathing.

’Heh, so they want to leave me high and dry? Fine. If they’re not here, I won’t lift a finger! Are they going to just stand there and watch me do nothing when they get back? The professor already promised to guide me personally. How dare they pretend they don’t know that?’

Having worked it all out in her head, she felt certain she would win. She grabbed her bag and left, deciding to go shopping and enjoy herself first.

She pulled the lab door gently shut, and after making sure it was locked, she turned and headed downstairs.

The afternoon sun was pleasant outside, and the lights of the roadside shops were just beginning to turn on. With a spring in her step, she headed toward the shopping district.

Along the way, she thought about what snacks to buy and which movie to see, feeling as carefree as if she were on vacation.

She shopped for nearly two hours before slowly heading back, several shopping bags in hand.

But when she got back, there was only half an hour left until the deadline, and the lab was still completely empty.

The light at the end of the hall was a dim yellow, and the entire floor was eerily quiet.

She pushed open the door to find the lab bench spotless, clearly having been cleaned by someone.

The equipment was powered down, all the data had been saved, and even the materials that were usually piled up randomly were stacked neatly on the desk.

She froze in the doorway, realizing something was wrong. Her heart began to pound.

Their advisor had come back early to wrap things up, and the others were only now trailing in behind him.

They were talking and laughing as they walked in, some of them still discussing what to get for dinner.

Seeing Yuan Zhihe standing there in a daze, they merely glanced at her without saying a word.

The advisor’s brow furrowed. He opened the summary report and began to check everyone’s progress.

The atmosphere grew tense, but no one volunteered an explanation.

Everyone else clutched a report slip, a relaxed smile on their faces. Only she stood there empty-handed, stiff as a wooden post.

She instinctively reached for her backpack, which contained nothing but some snacks and cosmetics—no lab notes, no data files.

She opened her mouth, trying to think of an excuse to bluff her way through, but she found all eyes on her—including her advisor’s unyielding gaze.

She was about to open her mouth to turn the tables and blame them, but what kind of drama hadn’t her advisor seen before?

He had been in academia for over twenty years and taught countless students. There was no excuse or attempt to shift blame that he hadn’t heard before.

Before she could even say her first word, the advisor raised a hand to cut her off, his tone icy.

He saw right through the whole situation at a glance, and his expression turned grim.

He closed the report, his voice low but every word chillingly clear.

"I don’t run a charity here. The task I gave you was already the easiest of the lot. If you can’t even handle that, then pack your bags and get out. Stop wasting my resources."

Tears instantly started streaming down Yuan Zhihe’s face. She shot a venomous, teeth-gritting glare in Shanshan’s direction.