Chapter 16 — I Never Made It to Nam Thanh With You

"I will not offer any explanation."

I picked up his phone and pressed it firmly into his hand.

"Whoever wrote that post can take responsibility for it. Whoever put her name on the project can be the one to explain it."

Co Nghien Le stared at me, his gaze cold and hard. "Do you really have to be this heartless?"

"Is this what you call heartless?" I countered. "I am simply refusing to lie for you people anymore."

His fingers slowly tightened around the device.

"Fine," he said. "If you refuse to explain, so be it. But at the inauguration ceremony, do not cause a scene in front of everyone. My mother has already sent out all the invitations. Once the party is over, we can sit down and talk about your expectations and the engagement."

He spoke with the condescending air of someone granting a final, generous favor. I nodded.

"Very well."

I certainly would not be the one to start a scene beforehand. Some truths only have power when spoken in the presence of everyone who needs to hear them.

After Co Nghien Le left, Tong Uyen Ninh deleted the post, but the screenshots had already spread throughout the university like wildfire. She had achieved exactly what she intended. The following day, when I arrived at the school to collect my summer camp materials, eyes followed me down every hallway, accompanied by the sharp sound of hushed whispers.

"She’s already so wealthy, yet she still fights tooth and nail to snatch that single opportunity for herself."

"Co Nghien Le obviously prefers Tong Uyen Ninh, yet she still forces him into an engagement by exploiting their families' connections."

"That’s how rich people are—they want to swallow everything whole."

I did not break my stride. In the past, I had been terrified of being misunderstood. I would have rushed to explain, desperate to prove time and again that I was not the villain they painted me to be. Now, I finally realized that for those who do not want to believe you, no amount of explanation will ever suffice. They prefer the drama and the sensationalized stories over the truth.

The faculty advisor for the summer camp handed me my documents.

"We depart next week. Professor Tham will also be in attendance."

I paused, stunned. "Professor Tham from Northwest University?"

"That is correct," he replied with a smile. "He reviewed your competition entry and was deeply impressed. On the final day of the camp, he will be taking a group of students to survey an ancient village. Make sure you are prepared."

I took the documents. The inauguration party was seven days away, and the summer camp officially began in twelve. The schedule was perfectly aligned. As I walked out of the office, my phone buzzed with an email. The sender was the School of Cultural Heritage at Northwest University. I opened it:

[Dear student Lam Kien Nguyet, after a comprehensive review of your file and an assessment of your capabilities, you have passed the academy’s special screening. Your final acceptance will be announced during the official selection period.]

I read the lines three times over, ensuring every word was real. The opportunity I had foolishly discarded in my past life had finally returned. I stood in the middle of the empty hallway, and suddenly, tears began to stream down my face. It was not out of grief or frustration, but out of overwhelming joy. It turned out that I did not need to follow Co Nghien Le to the South City to find a place where I belonged. And this place was exactly where I had always longed to go.

When I arrived home, my father was waiting in the living room. On the table lay a promotional brochure for the Te Nguyet Villa. My father’s expression was grim.

"What is the meaning of these names listed here?"

"They were changed by the Co family," I replied.

"Were you aware of this?"

"I only just found out myself."

My father flipped to the page titled 'Youth Innovation.' "This proposal was your work. Why is Co Nghien Le’s name listed first?"

"They said since we are practically family, there is no need to draw such clear lines."

My father let out a cold, sharp laugh. "We haven't even married yet, and they already consider us 'one family'?"

I had not expected my father to react with such intensity.