Chapter 9 — Justice, Six Years Later

Inside the device lay the entirety of her cinematic records spanning six years. Tao possessed a habit known to no one else: every time she filed a denunciation, she would record the process as source material, edit it, and store it in an encrypted folder. The folder was titled "Scores." Accusing the cafeteria matron earned her three thousand points; reporting the dormitory manager yielded five thousand; exposing her internship supervisor garnered twenty thousand. Each figure corresponded directly to the scholarships, compensatory payments, or business partnerships she had extracted from the ordeal. She was not a mere zealot for the rules; to her, rules were simply a business.

The earliest file was recorded on the day her father-in-law had driven her to the hospital. The footage was captured the night before she filed her complaint. In the frame, Tao sat on the hospital bed, her complexion still ghostly pale. Yan, her accomplice, sat beside the bed.

"As long as you claim to have been unconscious the entire time, I will handle the records," Yan said.

"Will the passengers agree to testify?" Tao asked.

"There are many mouths to feed; a little money will settle them."

"The reward is only eighty thousand."

"You take fifty thousand."

Tao pondered for a moment. "How severe a punishment can we secure?"

"At least a suspension."

"A mere suspension is not worth me using my real name."

"Then we go for termination."

"And the pension benefits?"

"We process it as a grave disciplinary violation; he won't be able to keep anything."

She lowered her head, watching the IV drip. "Fine."

Outside the frame, someone knocked on the door. Tao immediately lay back and closed her eyes. Her father-in-law entered, carrying a bag of hospital receipts. "Young lady, have you managed to contact your family yet?"

Tao opened her eyes weakly. "Not yet."

"If you are short on money, just tell me."

"Thank you, kind driver."

After the older man left, she sat up and whispered to the camera, "People like this are the easiest to exploit. They do one small favor and immediately imagine they are someone's savior."

Watching this in the assembly hall, not a single soul remained to defend her. Lam covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face incessantly. Her father-in-law did not weep. He only asked me, "Is there more behind this?"

"Father, don't watch any more."

"I want to see it."

In the next clip, Tao finished counting the eight thousand in cash that her father-in-law had advanced her, then handed two thousand to her caregiver. "Go downstairs and print the denunciation documents."

The caregiver asked, "Didn't this driver save your life?"

"Saving me was his choice," she replied coolly. "Receiving the reward money is my choice. Is there a contradiction?"

Her father-in-law stared at the screen for a long time. "So, she understood everything even back then."

I gripped the handles of his wheelchair. "Father."

"I spent so much time making excuses for her in the past." His voice was barely a whisper. "Am I a fool?"

Lam knelt before him. "No. Saving someone is never the wrong thing to do."

He nodded slowly. "Then that is enough."

Police intercepted the car on the outskirts of the city. While making a turn, the driver lost control and crashed into the divider. Because he was wearing his seatbelt, he sustained only minor injuries. Tao, however, had been busy unlocking her phone and had neglected hers. Upon impact, her legs were pinned beneath the mangled dashboard, and her right arm was shattered. The hospital emergency team worked for six hours to save her life. The doctors noted that the function of her right arm would likely never fully recover, and her left leg might leave her permanently crippled. Upon receiving the news, Lam did not claim she deserved it. She only asked one question: "Can she still stand trial?"

Han nodded. "She can."

The old case regarding her father-in-law was officially reopened. Yan confessed to deleting the coordination logs and forging passenger testimonies. The general manager of the transportation company from that year was also placed under investigation. In order to preserve the company’s status as a model of safety, even knowing that her father-in-law had committed no wrongdoing, he had approved the termination of his contract.

The deeper issue lay with the charitable funds. After graduating, Tao had operated a social media account under the guise of an investigative whistleblower. She and Hang had known each other for a long time. Hang needed examples of "legal compliance" to burnish the company's image. Tao was responsible for identifying employees who could be publicly disciplined. The more vulnerable the target, the lower the cost to public opinion. The cafeteria matron, the dorm manager, and the junior staff member who had advanced their own money to refund customers were all chosen by her. Each time a public case was finalized, the company paid a "service fee" to her mother’s consulting firm. In three years, that totaled four million seven hundred thousand. Hang took sixty percent, while the remainder was used to purchase property for Tao, build her professional portfolio, and bribe recruiters. Her hiring was no coincidence; the contract had been pre-arranged. Her top-tier written exam score was simply a manipulated entry in the system. She intended to join the compliance department to take over the next cycle of internal denunciations. I had merely been the final obstacle left to clear.

Before he was led away, Hang pointed at me, cursing. I looked at him calmly. "I did not know you were involved in this, too. You deserve every bit of this."

That afternoon, the company issued a notice cancelling Tao's employment. Shortly thereafter, the police released a formal announcement of prosecution, citing charges of fraud, malicious defamation, and the fabrication of evidence.