Chapter 381 - 245: Final Exam and Stereotypes
"See? It’s perfect," Neha said, glancing at Elizabeth’s screen before confidently flicking her thick, curly hair. "I’ve already handled this part. The content is very in-depth. I guarantee there won’t be any problems with the final presentation this afternoon. Trust me."
Li Wei, on the other hand, looked at the various metrics and data on the computer screen. He said nothing, but shot Neha a strange look.
He could tell it had definitely been ghostwritten, and sloppily stitched together at that.
Some parts had very tight logic and used sophisticated vocabulary.
Other parts were very colloquial, and the data section was completely glossed over.
He glanced again at the exhausted and frazzled Elizabeth and Anya, and decided not to say anything for the time being. Instead, he quietly began searching for the parts of the PowerPoint that looked plagiarized, preparing for the worst.
「At two in the afternoon, in the art department’s lecture hall, the final presentations were halfway through.」
The first half of the presentation was flawless. Elizabeth and Anya both performed up to their usual standards, seamlessly integrating the history of the Medici Family’s patronage during the Renaissance with the operational logic of modern art galleries.
The professor, sitting below the stage, nodded frequently and even jotted down a few appreciative notes in his notebook.
However, when it was Neha’s turn, she held a script and read from it mechanically, like an emotionless teleprompter.
"Therefore, when evaluating the derivative value of late 16th-century artworks, one is usually affected by..." She faltered for a moment, her eyes darting to the screen before she let slip, "...affected by 150% inflation."
A wave of suppressed laughter rippled through the audience.
At the side of the stage, Anya’s expression darkened instantly.
And while Elizabeth kept a smile plastered on her face, her eyes turned icy.
In the late 16th century, Europe did indeed experience a "Price Revolution" due to the massive influx of silver from the Americas. However, it was an extremely slow inflationary period that lasted for a century and a half, with an annual inflation rate of 1-1.5% at most.
In 16th-century Europe, which operated on a precious metal standard, 150% inflation would mean that for the Medici Family to sponsor a single painting, they would have needed to hire an entire squadron of heavily armed infantry to push a two-wheeled carriage loaded with several tons of silver coins to a square in Florence just to settle the bill.
But Neha, seemingly oblivious to the strange atmosphere, forced her way through the last page. She then let out a long sigh and, feigning composure, walked off the stage.
Then it was Li Wei’s turn to step up to the podium.
The most suffocating part: the Q&A session.
The professor adjusted the reading glasses on his nose and scanned the four students before him.
"Elizabeth, Anna, Li Wei," he began, "the theoretical framework for your sections was solidly constructed. And Mr. Li Wei, your coordination of the overall structure and logical flow demonstrated a high degree of scholarly aptitude. This is an excellent piece of work, up to Yale standards."
Then, his tone shifted. "But I would like to ask Miss Neha a question."
Neha jolted. "Yes, Professor."
"I’m very curious," the professor said, his expression a little strange. "How did you manage to arrive at a conclusion for an economic model of the Medici Family’s art patronage in 16th-century Florence that is identical to one from a 2018 paper in the *American Economic Review* about ’liquidity discounts for Silicon Valley internet startups’?"
He waved his hand. "You don’t have to explain it to me. I remember that paper very clearly because it was published by an undergraduate I advised. He had to go through three rounds of revisions before I gave him the nod."
The color drained from Anya and Elizabeth’s faces.
Group projects were group projects for a reason—their brutal system of collective punishment. If Neha was found guilty of academic plagiarism, the entire group would fail.
And Li Wei had even made a bet with the dean of their college that he would get all A’s!
"Well then, let’s follow your line of reasoning. Since you’ve arrived at this... earth-shattering conclusion," the professor said with a shrug, speaking leisurely, "in this model, how did the parameters for the ’liquidity discount’ fluctuate during the subprime mortgage crisis? Or are you suggesting the 16th-century Medici Family also experienced a subprime mortgage crisis?"
He picked up the grading sheet and shook his head. "Neha, Neha." Just as he was sighing and preparing to write down an F (for Fail),
Li Wei suddenly stood up and calmly took the microphone.
"Professor, please allow me to answer that question."
Anya and Elizabeth stared at him in astonishment. Even some of the top students in the lecture hall looked over with curiosity.
Everyone knew Li Wei.
There was no other reason than his fame. As someone who almost never participated in after-class discussions, he was, in everyone’s eyes, the undisputed, muscle-bound king of the court. Few had ever seen him give a presentation in class.
Then, using a string of numbers he had just jotted down, Li Wei combined history, macroeconomics, and quantitative financial models. He not only answered the professor’s tricky question perfectly but also managed to spin Neha’s absurd, plagiarized conclusion into a "counter-argument" for critique, seamlessly connecting it back to the theory presented by Elizabeth and Anya in the first half.
"Heh," the professor said with a smile. "Interesting. I’ve never seen anyone explain the problem that way before."
Anya and Elizabeth let out a long sigh of relief, their hearts finally settling back into their chests. They looked at Li Wei as if he were their savior, their eyes sparkling.
After the presentation, Li Wei stepped down from the stage. Neha followed behind him awkwardly, not saying a word.
Once all the groups had finished their presentations, the professor prepared to get up and leave.
Li Wei walked straight up to him. "Professor."
"Is there something else, Li Wei?" the professor asked without looking up, still writing on the grading sheet. "I know about the bet between you and your dean. If this is about your grade, your group’s final score is an A. Your save was outstanding."
"Thank you, but what I want to say is that Neha’s actual contribution to this group project was zero," Li Wei said. "I can provide the edit history of our collaborative document. Aside from uploading a file five minutes before the deadline that was clearly ghostwritten and plagiarized, Miss Neha did not participate in any substantive discussion or research."
"Therefore, I request that Neha be excluded from our group’s score," he said, looking at the furious Neha. "Miss Neha should fail and retake the course."
"Li Wei, is your eyesight so good that you could see what I was writing just now?" the professor asked, half-joking.
Li Wei just raised an eyebrow noncommittally.
The professor turned the grading sheet around and pushed it in front of Li Wei.
"Your save was brilliant, but there were still a few minor flaws... a very interesting perspective, though," he said humorously, looking at the others who were peering at the grading sheet. "But if you’re interested in art economics, you’re welcome to apply for my doctoral program after you graduate... though you’d certainly make less than you do playing ball."
Next to the names of Elizabeth, Anya, and Li Wei was a clearly written "A." And next to Neha Patel’s name, the professor had already drawn a heavy "F" for Fail.
The professor turned his head to the pale-faced Neha. "Miss Neha, I’m very sorry to inform you that not only have you failed this course, but on Monday, you will also be receiving a summons for a hearing with the Academic Integrity Committee. I hope you’ll be able to carefully compare the assignment you submitted with the journal published in 2018 and see just how high the overlap is."
Seeing the professor about to leave, Neha grew desperate. Forgetting her usual Brahmin airs, she rushed after him.
Li Wei, Elizabeth, and Anya packed their bags and were about to leave the classroom. Just as they reached the door, Li Wei overheard a conversation in the hallway.
"Professor... my father... Mumbai... South Asian art market... visit India..."
The professor’s voice also drifted over, faint but clear: "...bribing a professor... more serious than plagiarism... allegation... I’ll include it in my report."
Li Wei, standing at the corner of the hallway, couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard this.
’Inviting a gray-haired professor to visit India? I’d suggest he pack plenty of anti-diarrhea medication.’
"What are you laughing at?" Anya asked.
"Nothing," Li Wei said, shaking his head. "Just some stereotypes."
"That Neha, she’s definitely not going to get off so easily," Anya said, her cheeks puffed out in anger. "She was a ghost all semester, then tried to skate by with plagiarism at the last minute, almost taking us all down with her... I’m not done with her."
Li Wei shrugged.
Either way, the first final of the semester was an A!