Lockett thought for a mont, "Oh, I’m sorry, it’s been so long that I can’t quite rember."
"However, I do have the tistamp of when your paper was archived in the college’s database. If you need it, I’ll notify you when the dean returns in a couple of days."
Professor Lockett had not contacted Ann Vaughn because he wanted to wait for the dean to return from his trip and obtain solid evidence before reaching out to her.
He didn’t want to leave her waiting in vain.
Ann Vaughn imdiately smiled, her eyes crescent and gleaming, "Thank you. By the way, please give my regards to your wife. I really miss her mapo tofu and cumin ribs."
Professor Lockett’s wife was from S Country. In her youth, she had been a top chef, and Ann Vaughn often dropped by with Kenny to dine at their ho.
"Hahaha, my wife is almost furious because of you. If she finds out you’re only thinking about her cooking, she’ll definitely make fun of you." Professor Lockett laughed heartily.
After a few more exchanges about everyday life, Ann Vaughn hung up the phone only to see a news headline rolling across her screen.
[Internationally Renowned Divine Doctor and Vaughn Clinic Owner Ann Vaughn Allegedly Plagiarizes Others’ Work for Personal Gain?]
What kind of trash headline is this? So damn petty!
Ann muttered to herself, and despite knowing that curiosity killed the cat, she couldn’t resist opening the news alert.
Surprisingly, despite the mocking headline, the content was very proper.
The comnts below weren’t clouded with bla and suspicion either. Aside from unanimous calls for an urgent official investigation, there was support for her.
Only a small minority were jumping to conclusions, believing that there was no smoke without fire and that Ann Vaughn had embarrassed herself internationally.
If she hadn’t plagiarized, why would J Country so confidently make their statent?
Having endured so many attacks from public opinion, Ann Vaughn had unconsciously developed a selective hearing for extre comnts.
Yet, no one would feel good when their hard-earned achievents were tainted with the glaring labels of "plagiarism" and "copying."
This was just the dostic public opinion. Even if Ann hadn’t checked foreign websites, she knew that she was probably being severely criticized over there.
If international public opinion doesn’t calm down soon, the reputation Ann Vaughn has painstakingly built over the years will be completely destroyed...
This premonition persisted until the afternoon when it indeed ca true.
Suddenly, so negative news unfavorable to Ann Vaughn spread internationally.
[A doctor who was reportedly expelled several tis from her own country’s dical school for unknown reasons, without ever having received formal dical education—can her dical skills really be trusted?]
[Apart from having so fa in S Country, can practitioners of Eastern dicine really assure patients on the operating table, when all they have are needles?]
[It is worth ntioning that Doctor Aquarelle’s past achievents seem spectacular, but are re flashy embellishnts, unworthy of scrutiny.]
[Who can truly verify whether her claid experiences in patient treatnt are real? We consulted her patients, only to find such cases nonexistent! Of course, higher-profile patients were inaccessible, making it easier for Miss Aquarelle to conceal her perfect deception.]
Articles like this flooded major international forums and news sites.
They very much depicted as if these writers had witnessed Godly Ann Vaughn deceiving and fabricating her credentials firsthand.
Yet, many believed these "righteous indignation" articles without a sliver of doubt.
anwhile, The Imperial Capital dical Research Institute inford Ann Vaughn that J Country Research Institute agreed to settle in light of the patients.
As long as she publicly apologized and "returned" the research progress and suppressant product to them, the ordeal would be written off.
The envoy from J Country would arrive in S Country by the next day.
It was only at this mont that Ann Vaughn realized J Country Research Institute’s true intent wasn’t to tarnish her reputation but to throw mud on her.
Their goal was the suppressant’s achievent from the start!
"The combination of strength and strategy...quite a sophisticated approach," Ann Vaughn muttered softly, looking down at her phone’s screen.
While driving, Elias Hawthorne heard her voice and glanced at her with curious pale blue eyes.
Ann Vaughn put away her phone, temporarily pushing aside these worries, and looked out the car window, "How much longer until we reach Mount Verne?"
The land that was previously occupied by villagers at the foot of Mount Verne beca a site for cultivating dicinal herbs upon developnt.
The soil there was unusually friendly to rare dicinal plants, accelerating their growth without compromising the dicinal quality compared to those grown at a natural rate.
However, it didn’t show notable effects on common herbs.
"Fifteen minutes," Elias replied.
Precisely fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Mount Verne.
Elias, having inspected here many tis, introduced Ann Vaughn to the area leader and led her inside.
Pharmacists have a natural sensitivity and intuition for dicinal herbs. With talents like Ann Vaughn’s, a light touch could determine the herbs’ growth conditions in an instant.
Since Elias was present, Ann refrained from touching and observed only with her eyes.
She had to admit that the place was well-maintained, not falling short of her expectations.
Apart from the efforts of the supervisors and workers, Elias Hawthorne’s contributions were equally significant.
Ann Vaughn gazed over the lush green herb garden with a softened gaze, and just as she turned to step back, clusters of sharp thorns suddenly advanced, almost grazing her eyes and cheeks!
A hand intervened faster than the thorns, blocking Ann Vaughn’s face, and a piercing sound of flesh tearing scread in their ears.
The vehicle carrying the thorny plant had already driven away, unaware of this.
Ann Vaughn’s pupils contracted, her heart pounding as if it were about to leap out of her chest. Closing her eyes, she could still recall the horrifying sensation of nearly being scraped by the thorns.
Feeling a lingering fear, she pressed her lips together and looked up at Elias, who was frowning at his injured hand, "Are you okay?"
"I’m fine," Elias shook his head, "That’s bramble root, be careful next ti."
To prevent injuries, Elias had already arranged for the bramble roots around the area to be cleared.
However, they grew quickly, requiring periodic clearance.
Ann Vaughn looked at his hand, deeply scratched and bleeding, her brow furrowed.
Is this what he calls being fine?
"I rember there’s a first-aid kit in the car. Let bandage your wound," she said, pulling him by the arm towards the parking area, regardless of Elias’s reaction.
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