Chapter 21 — From Collapse to Brilliance: I Don't Need You

One week after the confrontation, the school's disciplinary council officially made a decision. Diệu Kỳ received an official email notification from the training department, inviting her to Professor Lương Vĩnh Đạt's office to hear the final conclusion announced.

The office that day was full of relevant people - Professor Dat, Mr. Thái Bình Nguyên, Professor Đoàn Khắc Tuấn, and Bách Sơn sitting next to Diệu Kỳ.

"After reviewing all evidence and testimony," Professor Dat said, his voice solemn, "the school's disciplinary council decided to permanently expel student Trịnh Ý Nhi, for serious violations of academic ethics, including fabricating evidence, slander, and illegally entering the research data system, causing serious consequences to human health," Mr. Nguyen continued. "At the same time, the entire case file has been transferred to the investigation agency to consider criminal liability. With what has been proven - fraudulent appropriation of login information, illegal intrusion into the computer system, intentional falsification of biomedical data leading to serious consequences for the volunteer's health - will likely constitute a criminal offense according to current legal regulations."

Diệu Kỳ sat quietly, listening to every word, feeling like a huge burden was gradually being lifted from her shoulders. She remembered her past life — she was the one who had sat in the position of being accused, had heard the same verdict for herself, even though she was completely innocent. Now, that spiral has finally found the person who is truly responsible.

"As for you," Professor Dat said, turning to Diệu Kỳ, his voice softening. "The council confirmed that I was absolutely not involved in any violations in the project. On the contrary, it was thanks to the data control system that I built, along with my proactive investigation, that the case was able to be clarified so quickly. The school recognizes and appreciates this contribution of mine."

"I thank the council for its fair consideration," Diệu Kỳ said, bowing her head, her voice still shaking slightly with emotion.

Professor Tuan, sitting next to him, spoke up, his eyes full of pride. "I have to be honest, at first I didn't understand why you decided to change majors so suddenly. But now, looking back at the whole thing, I wonder if you had a premonition of something before."

Diệu Kỳ smiled slightly, not answering that question directly. "I simply want to find a new path for myself, teacher. Perhaps, sometimes, the most confusing decisions turn out to be the best decisions."

After the announcement, news of the incident spread throughout campus, although it was handled discreetly to protect the honor of all parties involved, especially the volunteer who suffered harm. Diệu Kỳ received many inquiries, admiration and curiosity from other students, but she chose to remain silent, not wanting to make her story a topic of discussion.

A few days later, she received news that the volunteer affected by the incident had fully recovered, with no lasting effects. That news made Diệu Kỳ more relieved than anything else — because even though justice had been served, if that man had to suffer eternal consequences because of Ý Nhi's plot, she knew she would never be able to be completely at peace.

She visited him at his home, bringing a small basket of fruit, along with a sincere apology on behalf of the research project. “I'm sorry for what happened to you,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity. "It was unnecessary, and I'm sorry that this happened."

The man, although still a bit tired after the treatment, smiled kindly. "You don't need to apologize. I know it's not your fault, but that of the person who intentionally harmed you. I still believe in this research project, and hope that it will soon be back on schedule, so that it can help many people like me in the future."

Those words deeply touched Diệu Kỳ, further strengthening her determination to move the project forward, not only to prove her own abilities, but also out of responsibility to those who have placed their trust in this research work.

As for Ý Nhi, after deciding to drop out of school, she left school quietly, without anyone seeing her off. Diệu Kỳ heard, through several indirect information channels, that a criminal investigation was underway, with a high possibility that Ý Nhi would face a prison sentence because of the severity of the consequences.

Mr. Thái Bình Nguyên, during a meeting with Diệu Kỳ again to complete the procedure for taking additional testimony, shared a few more things about the investigation process. "We also contacted Ý Nhi's old school, based on what she and Mr. Bách Sơn provided. It turned out that the old incident still had records, even though the victim at that time did not have the courage to pursue it to the end after being forced to drop out of school. This time, with sufficient evidence, perhaps justice can be served more completely for both cases."

Hearing that, Diệu Kỳ felt an indescribable relief. She thought of that anonymous victim in the distance, who had probably silently suffered injustice for many years without any way to exonerate himself. "I hope that person will finally know the truth, even if it's late."

"We will try our best," Mr. Nguyen replied, nodding. "Thanks to the careful preparation and solid evidence you provided, this incident will certainly be a stern deterrent lesson, not only for Ý Nhi, but also for anyone who intends to take advantage of the trust of others to profit by similar tricks."

She did not feel gloating at the news, nor did she feel pity. Just a gentle feeling of emptiness, as if a painful chapter spanning two lifetimes had finally completely closed. She thought about what Ý Nhi had said during the confrontation — about the obsession to always be at the top, about the choice to drag others down instead of rising up herself. It was a tragedy that, although it could not justify what she had done, still made Diệu Kỳ reflect on how jealousy, if left unchecked, can turn a person into someone who destroys both his own life and the lives of others.

That night, Diệu Kỳ sat alone in her room, opening the secret notebook that had accompanied her throughout her long journey. She re-read from the first page - the hasty, anxious notes from the first days of observing Ý Nhi, until the last pages, recording the entire development of the fateful confrontation.

She closed the notebook, put it in a small box, and kept it deep in the drawer. This was not to forget what had happened, but to mark closure—the notebook had served its purpose, and now, she no longer needed it as a defensive shield. She can move on, with a lighter heart, towards a future no longer haunted by the ghosts of the past.

There was a light knock on the door. Diệu Kỳ opened the door and saw Nhật Lam standing there, holding two boxes of warm bean soup. "I think today is a day worth celebrating a little," Nhật Lam said, smiling. "Even if it's just regular bean soup." Diệu Kỳ laughed and pulled you into the room. The two sat down, ate tea and talked about their upcoming plans - about the fact that the research project would soon be restored on schedule, and about the fact that Nhật Lam was also considering changing her research direction to a field closer to biotechnology. That simple conversation, nothing special, gave Diệu Kỳ a warm and peaceful feeling that she had longed for a long time - the feeling of being with a sincere friend, without calculations, without suspicion, simply sharing joy after a long and arduous journey.

Before Nhật Lam left, she stopped at the door and turned to look at Diệu Kỳ. "You know, ever since you changed majors, I've always wondered why you changed so suddenly. Now I think, maybe you saw something that we didn't. Whatever it was, I'm glad you were right."

Diệu Kỳ just smiled and did not explain further. There are truths, she thinks, that are best kept as one's own secret — not because of lack of trust, but because there are things that, once lived through once through ultimate pain, will forever remain a part that cannot be fully shared with anyone else.