Chapter 5 — The 'Poor' Girl Who Got Expelled

The hearing was attended by faculty leadership, student representatives, and members of the campus press. At two in the afternoon, while hiding in the restroom, I overheard the inner thoughts of Hua Nguyen echoing from just outside the stall: “Make as much noise as possible! The more the fires of cyberbullying burn, the better! With this many reporters present today, the school will have no choice but to grit their teeth and approve that ten-thousand-yuan subsidy just to pacify public outrage. Once that money hits my account, I’ll be ordering the latest model of smartphone. That autistic fool—using both her and her mother as stepping stones is just too convenient.”

I gripped the USB drive in my hand, listening as her footsteps faded into the distance before pushing the door open to step out. Hua Nguyen, I will not let you walk away with a single cent today.

The hearing was held in the tiered lecture hall. The room was packed to capacity, with several cameras mounted at the back. Hua Nguyen was the first to take the stage. Today, she had deliberately avoided wearing makeup, letting her hair fall into a disheveled mess and donning a pair of tattered shoes that left her toes exposed. Standing before the microphone, she began to sob as she gave her testimony:

“I grew up in the mud. My parents scavenged for scrap metal just to put me through school. I thought that by getting into this university, I could finally change my fate, but because of my impoverished background... because I couldn't pay double for my dormitory fees, I’ve been trampled by wealthy parents and slandered online.”

She projected an image of her household poverty certificate, complete with the village seal, onto the massive screen.

“I only ask the school, I beg society, to give me a path forward and a chance to finish my education. This ten-thousand-yuan subsidy is a whole year’s worth of food for my family!”

Many students in the audience had tears in their eyes. The faculty leaders whispered to one another, nodding in solemn agreement.

“This child truly is pitiful. The rumors online must be largely unfounded. Let’s grant her the sole scholarship quota for underprivileged students. It will also serve as a public response to the situation.”

Hearing the verdict from the leadership bench, Hua Nguyen lowered her head, feigning the wiping away of tears. She glanced through the crowd, catching my eye with a provocative, cold smirk. The committee chair sighed and reached for his pen to sign the paperwork. The moment that signature touched the page, the funds would land in Hua Nguyen’s pockets. Just as he was about to press the nib to the paper, I raised the microphone:

“If the committee could please hold on for a moment.”

My voice cut through the murmurs, silencing the entire hall. The reporters’ lenses swung toward me in unison. The committee chair frowned, his pen hovering in the air. “Ms. Lam, this is a hearing for student financial aid. Do you have a comment?”

I stood up, holding the USB drive aloft. “Before you sign that document, I would like to use the computer to provide two additional pieces of evidence regarding Hua Nguyen’s actual financial situation. As an involved party, I believe I am entitled to this.”

The committee chair hesitated, then nodded. I walked to the lectern. As I passed Hua Nguyen, I saw a flash of panic in her eyes. “What... what are you doing? This is a school, not a place where you can run things as you please!” she whispered through gritted teeth. I ignored her and plugged the USB into the console.

A high-resolution photograph instantly appeared on the large screen. It was a three-story building. The ground floor had been renovated into a storefront, with a sign reading “Hua Family Agricultural Supplies General Agency.” The new car parked in front was captured with such clarity that even the license plate was visible.

The crowd erupted into a flurry of whispers. I immediately switched to the next slide: an official printout from the national corporate credit database. The document showed the business was fully operational, with Hua Nguyen’s father listed as the legal representative and a registered capital of one million yuan.

The students who had been sympathizing with her moments ago gasped in shock.

“What the hell?! An ‘impoverished student’ with a family business worth a million in registered capital?!”

“That house is bigger than a mansion, yet she claimed her parents were scrap collectors? What kind of twisted reality is this?”

Hua Nguyen stopped crying. She swayed, grabbing the edge of the lectern to keep from collapsing. I turned to look her straight in the eyes and spoke into the microphone:

“Student Hua Nguyen, your family owns a wholesale business with a million-yuan capital and lives in a massive estate. May I ask how you have the gall to wear those tattered shoes and fight for these limited subsidies against students who are truly struggling to work their way through school?!”

My words ignited the anger that had been simmering within the room. This was no longer a case of the downtrodden resisting the powerful; it was a blatant mockery of society's goodwill.

“You’re lying! You’re slandering me!” Hua Nguyen screamed in a panic, pointing at me and weeping toward the audience. “That’s just someone with the same name! There are so many people in this country with that name! That photo was definitely edited by you! You’re trying to frame me to clean up your own reputation!”

The committee chair looked at the unfolding chaos, completely bewildered.