Chapter 10 — From Collapse to Brilliance: I Don't Need You

Nearly two months after starting work at the biological therapy research project, Diệu Kỳ accidentally met Thảo My at a small coffee shop near the school gate, where she often stopped by in the morning before class. Thảo My was sitting alone at the corner of the table. When she saw Diệu Kỳ walk in, there was a moment of hesitation before nodding in greeting, her eyes no longer as warm as before.

Diệu Kỳ walked over and sat down opposite, although he clearly felt the reserve in his friend's attitude. "Long time no see. How have you been?"

"It's normal," Thảo My replied, her voice somewhat social, different from the intimacy of the day before. She stirred the coffee cup, avoiding looking straight into Diệu Kỳ's eyes. "I heard that you are working on a big project at the Dawn Institute, and were personally invited by Mr. Bách Sơn to participate?"

"Yes, I'm participating in a biological therapy research project," Diệu Kỳ replied, sensing something wrong in his friend's tone. "What's wrong, is something wrong?"

Thảo My was silent for a moment, then sighed, as if struggling with herself whether to say it or not. "I don't know if I should tell you, but... recently in the lab, people have been talking a lot about you changing majors. Someone said that you knew the Dawn Institute would have a big project, so you tried to switch early to take advantage of the opportunity, instead of really for academic reasons like you said."

Diệu Kỳ frowned, feeling a dull anger rising, but she tried to suppress it, keeping her voice calm. "Who told you that?"

"I don't remember clearly who said it first," Thảo My replied, avoiding the question. "It's just that, hearing so many people say that, I'm starting to feel confused. Are you really changing majors just for personal reasons, or are there other considerations?"

That question was like a needle piercing Diệu Kỳ's heart. This was exactly the familiar pattern she had witnessed in her previous life — a simple truth distorted, embellished with bogus profit motives, and then spread as an obvious truth without anyone bothering to verify the source.

"Thảo My," Diệu Kỳ said, trying to keep her voice calm but determined." I changed majors because I felt the clinical medical path was not suitable for me, as I said from the beginning. I had no prior knowledge of any projects at the Dawn Institute. The opportunity to participate in the current project came from my own ability during the study process, not from any pre-calculated plan."

Thảo My looked at her for a moment, her eyes still a bit skeptical. "I want to believe you, Diệu Kỳ. But honestly, the way you left was so sudden, right when the clinical trial project was starting to encounter some difficulties, that many people couldn't help but wonder."

"What difficulties does the clinical trial project encounter?" Diệu Kỳ asked immediately, her vigilance flared up strongly.

"It's nothing too serious," Thảo My replied, looking a bit confused. "It's just that recently there have been a few times where the recorded data did not match, and had to be rechecked many times. Đình Vũ and Ý Nhi are working overtime to review all records."

Diệu Kỳ felt a chill run down her spine. This is the first warning sign - the data does not match, needs to be reviewed, exactly what happened before the unjust case broke out. She tried to keep her face calm, not revealing her worry. "Maybe it's just a small error in the recording process. You and everyone just need to carefully check it carefully."

"Yeah, probably." Thảo My nodded, but her eyes were still a little gloomy. "Diệu Kỳ, I'm really asking, did you... do anything to cause trouble before you left? Like, were there any errors in the file that you didn't have time to correct before handing it over?"

Diệu Kỳ was stunned, feeling like someone was choking her chest. That question, although posed innocently, carried an extremely dangerous implication — it implicitly suggested that, if something went wrong in the current project, it was likely that its origin came from herself, from what she left behind before leaving.

"No," she replied, her voice much firmer. "I thoroughly checked all the data before handing it over to Mr. Tuan. If any errors occur after I leave, it is not my responsibility." Thảo My was a bit startled by the unexpected toughness in her friend's voice, but then nodded and did not argue further. "I'm just asking, I don't mean anything else. Don't be angry with me."

Diệu Kỳ took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I'm not angry with you, Thảo My. I just don't want to be blamed for things I didn't cause."

The conversation ended in an awkward atmosphere, completely different from the inherent intimacy between two old friends. After Thảo My left, Diệu Kỳ sat alone, clutching a cold cup of coffee, her mind full of chaotic thoughts.

She realized that, even though she proactively left the lab, her shadow had not completely disappeared from there. Ý Nhi, somehow, is still cleverly attaching her name to the problems arising in the current project, creating a hidden layer of defense for herself - if any errors are discovered later, public opinion in the lab is ready to blame "what Diệu Kỳ left behind", instead of suspecting the person who is directly manipulating the data.

This is an extremely sophisticated and dangerous tactic. Diệu Kỳ understands that she needs to act more carefully. She cannot let herself be drawn into direct arguments with Thảo My or Đình Vũ, because doing so will only make her look like she has something to hide. What she needs to do is continue to quietly collect evidence, and at the same time find a way to protect herself from being implicated in any errors that may occur in the old project.

That evening, Diệu Kỳ contacted Professor Đoàn Khắc Tuấn via email, asking permission to send back a full copy of the entire process and data that she had handed over before leaving the lab, along with a confirmation timestamp from the system, as a precautionary measure for herself. She wrote in the email, with a cleverly presented reason, that she wanted to "keep a copy for personal reference while studying in a new field",Professor Tuan, without a doubt, agreed and sent her back a full copy with confirmation of the official handover time. Diệu Kỳ stored this document in her secret evidence system, marking it as important evidence proving the state of the data at the time she left the lab — a shield to protect herself against any baseless accusations that might occur in the future.

She closed the computer and looked out the dark window, her heart heavy with a new worry. The fight with Ý Nhi, even though she tried to avoid it by leaving the lab, still didn't seem to really end. It simply switched to another form, more silent and indirect, but no less dangerous.

She knew she needed to quickly find a way to protect not only herself, but also her old friends — Thảo My, Đình Vũ, and even Nhật Lam — before they, once again, became unwitting tools in the hands of the manipulator behind all this trouble.

A few days later, Diệu Kỳ accidentally met Đình Vũ at the library, when she was looking for a reference book for a new project. She proactively nodded in greeting, but Đình Vũ only responded with a brief nod, his eyes avoiding, then quickly turned away to continue his work. That coldness was completely different from his previous straightforward, albeit harsh, but always fair attitude.

She stood still for a moment, watching his back disappear behind the row of bookshelves, her heart filled with an indescribable sadness. She remembered that in her previous life, Đình Vũ had been more determined to protect the accuracy of data than anyone in the group, always demanding clear evidence before drawing any conclusions. Yet now, with just a few clever insinuations, he was ready to treat an old friend coldly without any specific evidence.

That makes Diệu Kỳ even more poignant about the terrifying power of the psychological trick that Ý Nhi is using - it does not need to be based on the truth, it just needs to properly exploit each person's existing psychological weaknesses: Thảo My's insecurity of being abandoned, Đình Vũ's sensitivity to responsibility and risk, from there turning vague doubts into a solid wall of prejudice, difficult to break with a simple explanation.

She left the library with a new determination, more certain than ever: only real, irrefutable evidence is strong enough to break that wall of prejudice. And she would patiently, meticulously build that evidence base, little by little, until the time was right.