Chapter 12 — The Day the Whole School Went Wild

Hia's mother was choked with silence, unable to utter a single word in her defense. Beads of sweat immediately began to stream down the principal's forehead once again. He knew all too well that this matter had long surpassed the simple definition of school bullying. If the ongoing investigations into merit-based evaluations, commendation nominations, and discretionary budget allocations were thoroughly exposed, the Affiliated High School would lose far more than just a shred of dignity. Team Leader Shao promptly instructed a staff member to take meticulous written notes and confiscate the mobile phones to be sealed as physical evidence. Even then, Lam stubbornly attempted to mount a final defense.

I have never accepted anything that I should not have received.

The classroom peer evaluations were all conducted strictly according to standard procedures.

I suddenly broke the silence.

Where is my comprehensive moral and academic evaluation record?

Lam froze in place. I kept my gaze fixed directly upon her.

At the end of the previous semester, I ranked first in our entire grade.

I received the first-place prize in the academic competition.

My recorded volunteer service hours ranked second in the entire class.

Why was the exemplary student representative Hia instead?

Hia’s crying abruptly died down in an instant. She raised her head to look at me, her eyes brimming with sheer panic. I continued in an even tone: At the time, you told me that my personality was unsuited to represent the class.

You said that only class officers could properly project the collective image of the student body.

Now, I would like to inspect those scoring rubrics.

Lam’s lips quivered slightly.

The files are kept securely at the school.

Team Leader Shao immediately issued a directive: Notify the Inspection Team to come to the school and extract the records. The principal hurriedly pulled out his phone.

I will arrange it right away.

Head Teacher Song cast a glance at my direction.

Nam, did you never raise this issue before?

I lowered my gaze.

I reported it once.

Teacher Lam told me not to make a fuss or act differently from the others.

She said that honors are not determined by grades alone, but also by peer reviews.

My mother’s breathing suddenly grew heavy and labored.

You never told me about this.

I spoke softly: I thought it did not matter. At the time, I truly believed it was unimportant. It was just a title. It was just a piece of paper. As long as my academic performance remained solid, no one could possibly take it away from me. But later on, I finally understood. What they took away was never merely a certificate of merit. What they stripped from me was my fundamental right to be recognized fairly within this classroom. Following a brief recess, all relevant individuals were directed into separate meeting rooms within the activity center. My mother and I were assigned to the innermost room, accompanied by Head Teacher Song, who kindly poured me a cup of warm water.

If you are exhausted, Nam, you may leave first.

I shook my head slowly.

I want to go back to the school.

My mother immediately turned to look at me.

Why go back to the school?

I replied: There are certain things left inside the classroom.

They might be able to delete the chat history in the group chat, but they cannot erase the duty roster hanging right behind the blackboard.

Head Teacher Song stared at me for several long seconds.

I will go with you.

At one o'clock in the afternoon, the gates of the Affiliated High School were completely congested with vehicles. The school gates, which had always projected such an air of arrogant prestige, today appeared as though they had been stripped entirely of their glittering veneer. Reporters lingered at a safe distance outside. The inspection team and officials from the Education Bureau had already entered the campus grounds. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I noticed parents from class eleven-three arriving in scattered groups. Some parents wore expressions of utter bewilderment. Others scolded their children while frantically staring at their mobile phone screens. A few even deliberately avoided meeting my eyes when they caught sight of me. When I stepped into the main teaching building, the corridors were so eerily quiet that it scarcely felt like a weekend. The door to the classroom of class eleven-three stood wide open. The classroom, which had been buzzing with chatter about snacks and photographs just the previous day, now contained only rows of overturned desks and chairs. In the bottom right corner of the blackboard, the notes concerning the autumn field trip remained scribbled in chalk. The very first line was written in Hia’s handwriting.

Collective activities require strict attention to personal image.

I stood at the doorway for a long time, silently taking it all in before walking over to my seat at the very back row near the window. The surface of my desk remained impeccably clean. However, tucked inside the desk drawer was a crumpled ball of paper. I reached out and retrieved it, unfolding the paper to reveal the draft roster for yesterday's autumn field trip. Originally, forty-eight names had been written upon it. My name was at the very final line, ruthlessly crossed out with a single stroke of black ink. Right beside it was a scrawled marginal note.

She does not deserve it.

My mother stood directly behind me, her complexion instantly turning deathly pale. Head Teacher Song immediately raised her camera to photograph the evidence. At that exact moment, the sound of footsteps echoed from just outside the classroom doorway. Duyet stood there, clutching a blue notebook tightly against her chest. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen as she looked at me.

Nam, I am so sorry.

I arrived late.

I remained silent. Duyet walked forward and handed the notebook to Head Teacher Song.

This is the class logbook that I have kept since the tenth grade.

Inside this book, I recorded every single instance of duty roster tampering, every lost meal card, every time someone was locked in the physical education equipment room, and even the exact dates and times when Teacher Lam called you out for reprimands.

My mother’s voice trembled uncontrollably.

The physical education equipment room?

Duyet glanced over at me and bit her lower lip.

During the lunch break last month, Nam was locked inside the equipment room for a full forty minutes.

All of us knew about it.

Teacher Lam knew about it as well.

The air inside the classroom seemed to drop in temperature abruptly. From just outside the doorway, a parent who had just arrived asked in utter shock: Who locked her in? Duyet drew a deep, steadying breath. She raised her gaze toward the end of the corridor. Over there, Hia and Hoang were just being led upstairs by their parents. Duyet pronounced every single word with chilling clarity: The key was taken by Hia.