Miss Wheelchair - Chapter 13

After Gu Ci’s revisions, Tan Xin’s résumé looked far more substantial—especially with several added research experiences that gave it real weight.

Of course, she had never actually done those experiments, but she couldn’t possibly let Gu Ci find out. After all, she was supposed to be a proud top student from the University of Pharmacy.

Lying wasn’t her strong suit; guilt always gnawed at her.

But then again, this was just a system world, not real life. Wasn’t the whole point of these stories to follow “wish-fulfillment logic,” to make up for the regrets people carried in reality?

For the next few days, she studied like a woman possessed. Not only did she tear through the entire set of postgraduate medical entrance exam materials, she even went online to watch academic videos of those very experiments listed on her résumé. She memorized the SOPs from start to finish.

“A week? You’re telling me you memorized all of that in just a week? Who are you trying to fool?”

On the day of the interview, she ran into Zhang Huiqian at the academy gate. The other girl clearly didn’t buy it.

“Those exam materials represent four or five years’ worth of knowledge for med students at Ren Medical University.”

Tan Xin smiled mysteriously.

“Then that’s where you’re wrong. My character setting in this system is a genius with a photographic memory. My brain’s like a magnet—the moment I flip through a book, all the biochemical reactions and technical terms just stick. Don’t believe me? Quiz me.”

Since Zhang Huiqian was also in medicine, she casually threw out a question:

“Fine, recite the pentose phosphate pathway.”

Tan Xin answered without hesitation:

“The pentose phosphate pathway is one of the three major biochemical cycles. It’s a branch of glucose metabolism that mainly occurs in the cytoplasm. Its primary functions are producing pentose phosphates and NADPH. Pentose phosphates are precursors for nucleic acid synthesis, while NADPH is a key source of cellular reducing power. It also participates in lipid and cholesterol synthesis as well as detoxification reactions.”

Zhang Huiqian gave her a thumbs-up.

“Alright, then how about CRISPR/Cas9?”

That one wasn’t in standard textbooks—it was a cutting-edge technique from recent years. Yet Tan Xin recited it just as smoothly:

“CRISPR/Cas9 is a third-generation gene-editing technology. It’s been applied to mammalian cell lines since 2013. The system uses a short sequence called sgRNA to recognize the target genome sequence and guide the editing complex to the site. Cas9 protein then cleaves the DNA double strand, and the cell’s own repair mechanisms complete the editing, resulting in precise genetic modifications.”

Zhang Huiqian stared, stunned, her expression hard to read.

“You studied medicine before, didn’t you?”

“Nope, I’m from the University of Pharmacy. But you know the old saying—medicine and pharmacy go hand in hand.”

“Didn’t you claim you’d forgotten most of your undergrad knowledge?”

“I did forget, but I learn fast. Half the graduate-level research projects? I only need to look once and I get them.”

“You’re basically a walking super-brain, huh?”

“You noticed too?”

“Get lost.”

The two of them entered the interview hall.

And wow—just for a plain, unranked research assistant position with two openings, there were two hundred applicants.

The line stretched endlessly, and Tan Xin ended up at the very end.

The organizers set up a group chat to call candidates in one by one. While she waited, Tan Xin went to rest in Zhang Huiqian’s car.

“I just noticed something.” Tan Xin shut the car door.

Zhang Huiqian gave her a jaded look. “Nervous? Can’t blame you. Most of the applicants are master’s students—you don’t even have a graduate degree.”

Tan Xin waved her off. “No, that’s not it. I realized, their hairlines are all tragic.”

Some were even balding.

Zhang Huiqian choked. “That’s normal. Grad school stress, you know.”

Tan Xin’s face twisted in horror. “So grad school makes you go bald? That’s terrifying.”

Zhang Huiqian adjusted her metaphorical master’s cap, then reached up to tug at the thick, glossy hair her system avatar had so kindly provided.

“You’re being really offensive right now.”

The interviews for two hundred candidates dragged on all afternoon. By the time it was finally Tan Xin’s turn, the sun was already halfway below the horizon.

The process had two parts: literature translation and professional knowledge questions.

Luckily, she had already read the original papers Gu Ci had “added” to her résumé multiple times. With those terms etched into her memory and her strong English skills, she translated the abstracts flawlessly.

During the technical Q&A, the days of frantic study paid off—her answers made the interviewers’ eyes light up.

Ah, this system world was truly wonderful. Even learning came with a cheat code. If she had this kind of “plug-in” in real life, wouldn’t she have a Nobel Prize by now?

She aced the technical portion.

But then one of the interviewers glanced at her plaster-wrapped leg with concern.

“It seems you’re having some mobility issues.”

Tan Xin replied evenly, “I sprained it not long ago, but it doesn’t affect my work.”

“Even so, lab experiments often require moving around. In a wheelchair, you wouldn’t even be able to reach certain reagents.”

“That’s why I’m not applying for a lab assistant role. I’m applying for a documentation assistant position.”

“Oh?”

“You’re hiring two research assistants—one for lab work and one for documentation. I’m applying for the documentation role. First, my leg will probably take another month to heal (truth is, I’m afraid I’ll mess up the experiments if I try).

Second, I’m stronger in theory than in hands-on skills. So, I believe I’d be a better fit for the documentation assistant position.”

Fortunately, she had anticipated this question and drafted an answer in the car. Otherwise, she would never have spoken so smoothly on the spot.

Sigh, chasing a wife requires not just academic strength but also a sharp tongue.

Gu Ci, Gu Ci, give me ten points of favorability.

Five will do. Please, I’m begging you.

Tan Xin was hired on the spot.

Compared with the 7k starting salary for master’s students, her 4k offer as a bachelor’s degree holder was still a bargain—half the cost for someone perfectly capable of doing the job.

Why not?

When she left the college building, Zhang Huiqian was already gone.

She had only come to pick up Lu Ran for a lecture. Now that it was over, the soon-to-be couple naturally left together.

Tan Xin rolled her wheelchair toward the nearest campus gate, following the GPS.

Accessible taxis were rare, and it took her eight minutes to finally get one—two kilometers away. While waiting, she bought a grilled sausage from a roadside stand.

Say what you will about the system being unreliable, but its world-building was spot-on.

College athletes on the track field training for fitness tests, couples biking under leafy boulevards, tasty little food stalls outside the school gate.

And, of course, the classic scammer grandpa.

She had just stretched lazily, when something bumped her from behind. Turning around, she nearly dropped dead on the spot.

“With all these witnesses, you dare deny you pushed me over?”

An old man with gray hair sat on the ground, pointing at her and cursing at the top of his lungs.

Tan Xin hurriedly pulled her hand back from stretching and stammered, utterly speechless:

“I’m in a wheelchair—how could I possibly push you?”

The old man barked back, relentless: “You think just because you’re disabled, you can take it out on society? You’re a disgrace to humanity!”

Tan Xin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I—you—you’re the disgrace! Extorting money from a disabled person?”

“How am I extorting you? Hah? This is legitimate medical compensation! If you don’t pay up, I’ll drag you straight to the police station!”

A crowd of onlookers quickly gathered—mostly med students, with a few middle-aged women heading to square-dance practice.

“Girl, that old man’s a serial scammer. Bad luck today, that’s all.”

“Exactly. If you don’t pay, he’ll start ordering tests left and right. Won’t stop at 500.”

“Old geezer, shame on you. Picking on a girl in a wheelchair?”

The bystanders muttered and criticized the old man, but the situation was still a mess.

Just as one woman said, it might be better to settle quickly—otherwise, once he made a scene at the hospital, the costs would balloon.

“How much do you want?” Tan Xin tried asking.

The old man suddenly flopped flat onto the ground, stiff as a corpse.

“Seven hundred.”

“Seven hundred?”

Tan Xin, already broke, shot up from her wheelchair on one leg in outrage.

“Do you even know what 700 means?”

Seven hundred could get you into Ren Medical University!

She hopped right up to him, standing in a flamingo pose.

“I was willing to let two or three hundred slide. But seven hundred? Why don’t you just rob a bank!”

Seeing her stand, the scammer instantly panicked, scrambling back up like a startled skeleton.

“You—you—what do you think you’re doing? You gonna hit me? Everyone look! A college student is assaulting me!”

The crowd grew larger. Some scolded the old man for faking it, others wagged fingers at Tan Xin without knowing the full story.

The noise was unbearable. Tan Xin, realizing things were spiraling, hopped back to her wheelchair to grab her phone (honestly, her single-leg balance was getting sore).

“You—you want to make a scene? Fine, I’ll call the police right now! Let’s see you explain this!”

Her vocabulary for arguments was limited, and “I’ll have the police arrest you” was her go-to phrase.

She hopped and hopped—but suddenly landed on a mossy cobblestone.

“Ahh!”

For the fourth time, she crashed face-first in this cursed system.

Absolutely infuriating.

Not only had she been scammed by a geezer, but she’d also made a public fool of herself.

One star, terrible system, would not recommend!

As she struggled upright from the grass, she noticed a wheelchair had stopped in front of her.

It wasn’t like hers at all—this was a fully automated, anti-slip model.

And the woman sitting in it, dressed in a beige trench coat, wide-leg pants, and white leather shoes, carried an air of cool elegance—aloof, refined, untouchable.

Who else could it be but Gu Ci?

Gu Ci extended her hand, offering to help her up.

Tan Xin hadn’t expected Gu Ci to appear.

Even less did she expect the famously indifferent woman to reach out to her.

Her nose stung. She brushed the dirt off her hands, wiped them clean on her clothes, and placed her hand firmly into Gu Ci’s.

Wives really are the best.

Later, when she left, she’d be giving this a five-star rating.