Chapter 6 — Evidence That Doesn't Lie

Lu Cheng instinctively reached out to catch her as she swayed, but Tran Tri Vi turned sharply toward the academic advisor, her voice cold and commanding.

"Call the campus doctor."

Hua Thanh Le’s movements stiffened. She had clearly banked on the idea that a well-timed fainting spell would drag this ordeal out indefinitely, granting her a reprieve. But today, that performance failed to move anyone. Before long, representatives from the disciplinary committee and the Dean’s office arrived. They seized Lu Cheng's work computer and demanded that both Lu and Hua surrender their phones to assist in the formal investigation. Lu was visibly spiraling into panic.

"Professor, those devices contain my personal private information."

The disciplinary officer remained unmoved, his tone ironclad.

"You are free to refuse, but the university will proceed with disciplinary actions based solely on the evidence currently in our possession."

Lu glanced at Hua, whose complexion had drained to a deathly pallor; her knuckles were white as she clutched her phone. Seeing the panic in their eyes, the truth suddenly crystallized in my mind. There was something on those devices—something damning. I was right. By that evening, the university’s IT department had managed to recover a trove of messages that had been hastily deleted. The following morning, I was summoned to the faculty office. The Vice Dean placed a printed stack of chat transcripts on the desk before me.

"Lam Van, take a look at these first."

I turned to the opening page. Beside Lu Cheng's profile picture, a single sentence stood out:

"Van Van trusts me far too much. As long as that USB drive passes through my hands, no one will ever suspect a thing."

My fingertips froze against the paper. The last vestiges of the affection I once held for him shattered completely.

The chat logs stretched back three months, to the moment the composite rankings for graduate school admissions were announced. I had placed first, Lu second, and Hua third. The department only offered two guaranteed spots. In the logs, Hua was hysterical.

"I don’t want to take the entrance exams. I know I cannot outperform the others."

Lu had replied: "Don’t be afraid. I’ll find a way."

Hua sent a pitiful, tear-streaked emoji. "But Lam Van is ranked first. She won’t give up her spot."

"Then we make her lose her eligibility."

The content that followed was nauseating. They had meticulously dissected my weaknesses, noting how I prized my academic reputation above all else. They knew my parents were modest schoolteachers and that I feared nothing more than public humiliation. They discussed how accustomed I was to trusting Lu; they knew that if he asked for my files, I would hand them over without a second thought. Hua had specifically suggested the speech at the university’s anniversary celebration.

She’s planning to talk about that rural survey project, right? We’ll just claim she stole the data from me.

Lu replied: "We need proof. The file creation timestamps, the plagiarism scan reports, and the faculty verification letters—everything must be prepared perfectly."

Hua remained anxious. "I can cry. Everyone will believe me if I’m crying, right?"

Lu sent a smiling face in response: "The moment you cry is when you look most like a victim."

I stared at those words, my stomach churning. It turned out that even their tears were calculated, premeditated performances. The subsequent pages detailed their plan of action: Lu was responsible for tampering with my USB drive and swapping the files, while Hua took charge of manufacturing the fake "original drafts," forging plagiarism reports, and creating doctored screenshots. They had even debated how to manipulate public opinion.

We’ll release it during the livestream; the professors won't dare cover it up.

"First, we must destroy her reputation."

"The announcement deadline is only a few days away. To avoid any potential fallout, the university will surely suspend her eligibility immediately."

"As long as we drag this out until the deadline passes, the quota will be transferred to the next candidate."

Hua had asked: "What if she tries to explain herself?"

Lu answered: "I will step in. I’ve known her for over a decade. If I personally testify that she handed me the USB drive, no one will ever doubt it."

I stared at that sentence and suddenly let out a laugh. Every professor in the office turned to look at me, and the academic advisor’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

Lam Van…

I shook my head. "I’m fine."

I had always believed that no matter how much Lu favored Hua, it was merely because she was an orphan living under the Lu family’s roof, a pitiable girl who had nowhere else to turn. Since she had moved into his home during high school, Lu had always described her as sensitive, timid, and lacking a sense of security. Because of that, I had always yielded to her. If she wanted a club position, I stepped aside. When she tried to force her way into my competition team, I swallowed my pride. Before my scholarship defense, she claimed she was nervous, so I helped her polish her presentation. I had once prided myself on my generosity. Now, I realized I had been handing a knife to a wolf all along.

The final page of the transcript ended with a message from Hua.

"So what if she has the top scores? Once her reputation is ruined, that spot will be mine."

Lu Cheng's final reply: "Once we are both admitted to Beijing Communication University, she will never be able to catch up to us again."

I placed the stack of papers back onto the table.