Life Plan

Chapter 15, Subject Crisis

The ethics committee and the police intervened in the investigation at the same time. The sponsor and related personnel recused themselves due to conflicts of interest. Lawyers Yan Shaohai and Shen Shuyi, who have no medical background, went to the police station together.

After careful verification and investigation, the recruitment materials and onboarding training monitoring videos provided by Shen Shuyi proved that Liu Chichi did not engage in any inducement behavior. Legally, she is innocent, but in the eyes of the public, she is already socially dead.

Liu Chichi walked out of the police station wearing the coat that Shen Shuyi had brought her. Some busybodies were waiting at the entrance to livestream, trying to shove the camera right in Liu Chichi's face. The two groups of people were vying to get closer and who could get the most explosive "insider information," and they almost came to blows in the pushing and shoving.

Left with no other choice, the police took Liu Chichi home.

As soon as Liu Chichi entered the room, Liu Chunhong grabbed her hand and exclaimed, "You really sold people out for the hospital?"

"That's just nonsense on the internet."

"Oh." Liu Chunhong's brows furrowed even deeper as she relaxed. "Then, will you still be able to go to work?"

"The boss said to take a few days off first."

This was also to let her hide for a few days, since there were people everywhere in the hospital wanting to livestream and take pictures. Liu Chichi hid in her room, and her phone's browser was pushing her as a trending topic.

She was the subject of all the trending topics in her city pushed by various apps. After reading all the titles, she clicked on a professional analysis post. The article objectively introduced the "clinical trial," but the comments section was filled with appalling negativity. It was like stirring up a hornet's nest; countless buzzing sounds filled her ears, and all the stingers were pointed sharply at her.

Liu Chichi frantically browsed various browsers, negative reviews flashing before her eyes, her numb brain unable to control her hands and eyes to stop browsing.

Until it was fully light, the phone ran out of battery and shut down automatically.

She got up to find the charger and smelled the aroma of food coming from the living room. Side dishes and white porridge lay quietly on the dining table, covered with a red plastic mosquito net, and steam rose from the gaps.

Liu Chichi suddenly remembered what Shen Shuyi had said yesterday: the sponsor wanted the matter to end with her, as the drug name had not yet been revealed and they did not want it to affect the subsequent market launch.

What do you mean by "until she does"?

Should we fire her?

Liu Chichi sipped her porridge, the warmth of family soothing her chapped stomach and relaxing her tense nerves.

Lying in bed, she couldn't help but wonder if she could quit her job.

The uproar did not subside because of her escape, and even the police announcement could not quell the incident.

The death of Chen Bin, who had participated in clinical trials, was a real event. Under Wang Lan's suggestion and Chen Bin's father, Chen Laosi, using a pseudonym to guide public opinion, the police announcement became a conclusion that the police had been bought off by "Liu Chichi's backers," and the eye-catching rumors spread extremely quickly.

Wang Lan and Chen Laosi were administratively detained for spreading rumors. After the news leaked, someone released a photo taken at the police station entrance that day showing Liu Chichi leaving in a police car.

Rumors flew everywhere, and the online attacks against Liu Chichi shifted to the police. Countless people speculated about Liu Chichi's identity based on various clues.

Shen Shuyi asked if it was possible to release relevant information to show that Chen Bin's death was unrelated to this matter, but the sponsor needed to maintain the privacy of the project, and the ethics committee needed to protect the data of the participants.

Yan Shaohai was the first to refuse her: "If you let the participants think that we will arbitrarily release their information after they die to make up for the oversights of our staff, will anyone be willing to participate in the experiment in the future?"

The committee believes that Liu Chichi's failure to preserve the relevant chat logs, leading to the public outcry, constitutes a dereliction of duty. Liu Chichi will be given the cold shoulder, and the company plans to terminate her probationary period after the public outcry subsides. The internet has no memory; given enough time, everyone will forget about her and this incident.

This approach also implies a kind of industry ban.

Shen Shuyi stared at the chat window; Liu Chichi hadn't replied for three days. She couldn't help but frown; Wang Lan's report was far too professional.

If she had initially reported that Chen Bin died because of a clinical trial, she could have quickly resolved the matter by simply providing evidence that Chen Bin hadn't taken the medication. However, her report focused on "inducing participants," and whether or not this constitutes "induction" is subjective. Based on Wang Lan's previous understanding of clinical trials, she doesn't seem to be someone knowledgeable about these things.

Shen Shuyi suddenly remembered the warning that man had given her a few days ago—"We'll see!"

She found him on her blacklist: "Did you do this?"

The other party replied quickly: 【What?】

[Regarding Chen Bin.]

I don't know anyone named Chen Bin.

Shen Shuyi turned off her phone, but the frequency of ringing phones from other companies' CRCs in the office has increased significantly recently, mostly from other test subjects and their families.

While explaining on the phone, they glanced at Shen Shuyi with complicated expressions.

Shen Shuyi kept her head down, unconsciously scrolling through the mouse. The chaotic public opinion was all labeled "clinical trials," along with the term "human experimentation." The buzz was so high that even movie clips from several years ago were being dug up.

The message popped up, and Shen Shuyi quickly closed the webpage to return to work. The silent chat box was scrolled down, and she only scrolled down once before ignoring it.

It's a bit of a pity, though, that Liu Chichi is most likely not going to survive.

Public opinion reached its peak three days after the announcement, with "human experimentation" and "clinical trial" being conflated.

According to information provided by Wang Lan, some daring individuals rushed into the Phase I clinical trial ward of the Central Hospital, claiming they were "risking their lives to capture firsthand news."

That day happened to be the third phase of enrollment. The person filming, wearing a hat concealing a hidden camera, went upstairs through the emergency exit. While the participants were queuing, he suddenly rushed out and bombarded them with questions: "Were you tricked into coming here too? How much did they pay you? Do your family members know you're doing this?"

The person who was apprehended was Yang An. After a slight pause, he instinctively raised his hand to cover his face. The person filming, however, interpreted this as a sign of his guilt and, while struggling to break free from the security guard's grip, shouted at him, "Are you doing this for money? Do you know you'll die?"

His camera was hidden in his hat. He took out his phone for the security guard to check, and then turned around and uploaded the content filmed from inside his hat.

The phrase "Clinical trials still underway at the Central Hospital" linked to related trending topics quickly gained popularity.

Yang An's face was not blurred in the video, and the panic on his face was quickly spread by netizens as evidence of "how scared the participants in the experiment were." His expression was screenshotted and enlarged, becoming the accompanying picture for the new developments.

When Yang An returned home, his wife already knew the news. The woman sat on the sofa, holding their child, browsing the news and crying. Their daughter, unaware of what was happening, wiped away her tears.

When she saw Yang An enter, she rushed forward, grabbed him to examine him, and broke down in tears when she saw more than a dozen needle marks on his arm.

"Why did you do this?! What will happen to me and the children if you die?"

"I'm not..."

Yang An felt very annoyed. Since the day he was photographed, his messages kept coming in. At first, he tried to explain, but in the end, all he felt was annoyance. Fortunately, he didn't reply to any of the messages.

But the messages kept coming in—

Old Yang, have you run into some trouble?

Is that really you in the video?

Are you short of money?

Most people don't care about him; they just want to get some firsthand "talking points." Like Liu Chichi, he was exposed online—his job, his situation of being laid off.

The rational analyst explained why he became a subject and categorized him into the "unemployed" group.

At this point, he had no time to care about his wife's emotions. He had no energy to comfort her or explain; he just wanted to escape. He hid in a corner of the balcony, pulled the glass door shut, and shut himself out from the crying in the living room.

As night fell, his daughter opened the glass door and handed him a paper crane made of candy wrappers, while her other hand held a handful of candies.

Yang An subconsciously squatted down, and his daughter fed him candy, clumsily reaching out her little hands to pat his back, "Daddy, eat candy, go to sleep."