Chapter 7 — The 'Poor' Girl Who Got Expelled

You stole my money! I am going to kill you!

Had this been my previous life, Nien would surely have trembled in terror, shrinking into a ball on the cold ground. But this time, she did not shake, nor did she retreat. She looked at Hua Nguyen with calm, steady eyes. The very moment Hua Nguyen’s hand reached out toward her, Nien used her left hand to strike her arm away with surprising force. Facing Hua Nguyen’s stunned expression, Nien straightened her back and spoke, her voice clear and cutting:

You brought this upon yourself. You alone are responsible.

Hua Nguyen stood frozen in place, her eyes wide with disbelief. I walked over, clutching the hot water thermos, and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, shoving her aside.

Get lost.

I watched her stumble and fall to the ground, my voice cold and devoid of pity. Do you think being expelled is the end of it? Yesterday, I submitted irrefutable evidence that your parents bribed village officials to fraudulently obtain poverty certificates. I used my real name to file formal reports with the disciplinary committee and the local market oversight bureaus. So, you used state subsidies to build a mansion, did you? Just sit there and wait for your family supermarket to be sealed off, and prepare to go join your parents in disgrace.

Upon hearing that her entire family was on the brink of ruin, Hua Nguyen’s eyes filled with primal terror. Her face turned an ashen grey. She scrambled to grab her suitcase, fleeing the school grounds with a mix of crawling and running. Finally, the nightmare was over. I turned to look at Nien, who stood waiting for me, her eyes red, and pulled her into a tight embrace. My daughter had grown up. She had finally learned how to fight back and protect herself. Nien wrapped her arms around my back, resting her chin on my shoulder. At last, we could embrace the peace we had fought so hard to find.

Time flowed forward like a steady stream. During the school’s end-of-semester art exhibition ceremony, the auditorium was packed to capacity. A distinguished, silver-haired professor from the Art Academy stood upon the stage. On the massive screen behind him, an oil painting titled Light in the Silence was displayed. The startling spatial composition and the profound sense of isolation depicted within the work left the entire room breathless.

I have taught for thirty years, and it is rare to witness a piece that speaks so directly to the soul, the professor began. The artist of this painting has used the brush to show us the incredible inner world of those living with autism. Her talent is beyond question.

This painting was the fruit of countless days and nights Nien had spent working in the solitary room I had secured for her. Thanks to this masterpiece, Nien won the gold medal at the national art exhibition and a prize of thirty thousand yuan. When Nien walked onto the stage in a crisp white shirt to accept her award, the entire auditorium erupted in thunderous applause. Within that sound, there was no trace of pity—only genuine, profound respect.

In a different part of the province, the Hua family supermarket had been shuttered by authorities. Her parents were facing heavy fines and criminal prosecution. Hua Nguyen, wearing a drab factory uniform, worked on an assembly line at an electronics plant. During her break, she pulled out a phone with a shattered screen and saw the news of the art exhibition. Seeing Nien standing under the bright stage lights, she was consumed by a madness of jealousy; she let out a piercing scream and hurled her phone against the wall.

Worker number thirteen! Deliberate destruction of company property! Your perfect attendance bonus is revoked, and five hundred yuan will be deducted from your wages! the floor manager bellowed. Hua Nguyen closed her eyes in despair, tears streaming down her face as she paid the price for her greed.

After the awards ceremony, Nien hugged her trophy and ran to jump into my arms. She beamed, her voice bright and proud: Mother, look! I can create beauty! I actually did it!

My eyes burned as I stroked her hair, tears of relief falling down my cheeks. Yes, you did. This is something our Nien earned entirely through her own strength.

I kissed her forehead gently. You were never meant to be a stepping stone for anyone, and you have never been a burden to anyone. Reborn into this life, I protected the room she needed, crushed every malicious intent, and secured my daughter’s future.

As we walked down the tree-lined path of the campus, two female students were chatting nearby. One of them accidentally dropped a book. Nien let go of my hand, ran over to pick up the book, and handed it to the girl. The student paused, surprised, then smiled warmly: Thank you.

It is nothing, Nien replied softly. Her condition was improving day by day, and she was learning to accept the kindness of the world. Watching my daughter walk ahead, I remembered the online abuse and vitriol I had endured in my previous life; it felt like a lifetime ago. In this life, I did not fall into the trap of trying to prove my innocence; instead, I used cold, hard evidence to dismantle those deceitful people entirely. The setting sun cast long, peaceful shadows behind us as we walked toward our bright future.