Worlds Apart | Chapter 46 | The Mask of Perfection | Novela.app

“It’s not entirely incomprehensible,” Pei Jing remarked, his expression remaining calm after hearing the bad news. “You’re clearly overqualified. The admissions office could tell at a glance that they weren't your first choice.” Jiang Tong didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “Thank you for the consolation, Senior.” Pei Jing gave him a strange look. “I’m not consoling you; I’m criticizing you. Your application strategy was wrong. I told you as much when I was helping you revise your personal statement.” “I’m thinking of applying for a Master’s at our university as a backup,” Jiang Tong said, not wanting to dwell on the subject. “It should still be in time to apply for Professor Gu’s lab. In the worst-case scenario, I can do an MPhil first, and use that time to build up my publications while I reapply.” “There’s no need for that,” Pei Jing interrupted him bluntly. “Given your current situation, I have two suggestions. First, the application windows for Research Assistant positions in North American labs haven't closed yet; ask the professor to introduce you to some opportunities as soon as possible. Second, several pharmaceutical companies focused on biodrug R&D are still doing campus recruitment; you should consider submitting your resume. Graduate school isn't realistic—you can't afford the tuition.” Jiang Tong froze. “You’re short on money, aren't you?” Pei Jing faced his stunned expression with total frankness. “I happened to be passing by when you asked Professor Gu for leave last week. I wasn't intentionally eavesdropping.” “I apologize for my previous brash attitude,” Pei Jing added. He didn't say it explicitly, but Jiang Tong knew he was referring to their first group project. Having this habitually arrogant senior bow his head and admit fault didn't bring Jiang Tong any comfort. Instead, it provoked a sense of offended displeasure. “There’s no need to apologize. My attitude was indeed unprofessional before; I shouldn't have let personal matters affect our research.” The implication was clear: as a lab colleague, Pei Jing had no right to meddle in his personal life. However, the usually blunt Pei Jing displayed a scientist’s meticulous sharp-wittedness at this critical moment. He crossed his arms, scrutinizing Jiang Tong from head to toe. “Why are you angry?” Jiang Tong reflexively countered, “I’m not.” Pei Jing ignored him, continuing on his own. “You don’t want outsiders to see the friction in your life. If our positions were reversed, I would feel the same. I’ll forgive your emotional outburst, but you must seriously consider my suggestions.” “Jiang Tong, has anyone ever told you that your pride is pathologically high?” Pei Jing studied him without restraint. His gaze was curious, possessing a neutral, investigative quality—like a scalpel precisely dissecting Jiang Tong's emotions. “Everyone says you have a good temper, that being around you is comfortable and easy. They say you’re the most thoughtful and reliable person, always looking at things from others' perspectives. They’ve all been fooled by you.” “The way you present yourself is—” He narrowed his eyes, searching for the right words. “It’s a mask. You enjoy the feeling of being praised and relied upon, so you don’t allow things to slip out of your control. Things will inevitably slip out of your control, of course, but you just need to *look* like you have everything in order.” “You’re angry because I just offered a suggestion from your perspective. Deep down, you know I’m right, but you’re furious and panicked because I broke through the disguise set up by your pride. What I pointed out is a reality you aren't ready to face yet. You hate that someone saw through the difficulties of your situation before you did.” “Jiang Tong,” he leaned forward, his eyes filled with genuine interest. “Aren't you tired?” Jiang Tong smiled. “Senior, have you considered a double major in Literature and Drama?” Pei Jing took no offense. “I won’t get angry no matter what you say today; I did indeed offend you. But I must state that I have high hopes for your academic future—provided you get your head on straight.” “And if I don’t?” “The number of setbacks on the academic path is far beyond your imagination,” Pei Jing said flatly. “What you’re seeing now is just the tip of the iceberg. The way you are now, failure and disappointment will crush you sooner or later.” That familiar dull ache returned, blow by blow, hammering at the back of Jiang Tong’s head. He squeezed the words out from between his teeth: “Thank you for the advice, Senior. I’ll consider it.” Pei Jing meant well. Jiang Tong knew that in his heart. Yet, reason and emotion could not be reconciled. Shame ignited anger, and within that anger hid alarm—as if he had been suddenly stripped naked in a crowded market, wanting nothing more than to vanish into the ground. *Calm down, calm down,* Jiang Tong told himself. Pei Jing was the second-in-command in the lab; there would be plenty of times he’d need to ask him for favors in the future. He couldn't lose his composure in front of him. His suppressed anger finally reached a breaking point in the face of another person's kindness. ***