Chapter 4 — The Truth in the Schoolbag

Murmurs rippled through the gathered crowd beneath the stage. “Wait, just now he said if he didn't pay today, his mother would lose her life…”

“Was that a lie?”

“Even life-saving money is a lie?”

Hua Tri Ngan stared up at the massive screen in horror, suddenly shrieking at the top of his lungs, “You are violating my privacy!”

I met his frantic gaze with cold indifference.

“This is a donation page and public fund notice that you yourself shared with everyone.”

“When you exploited your own mother’s illness to play the victim and milk sympathy, you didn't seem to think of it as privacy.”

“I am merely using publicly available information to prove you are lying, and now you accuse me of invading your privacy?”

He was cornered so completely that he could not utter a single coherent syllable. Principal Dam’s face had turned pitch black, the color draining away entirely. Just moments ago, the administrator had readily agreed to hand down a severe disciplinary mark against me. Now, every single piece of undeniable evidence was slamming ruthlessly across his face. He glared daggers at Hua Tri Ngan. “Then exactly what is the truth behind the fifty thousand yuan surgery fee you mentioned earlier?”

Instinctively, Hua Tri Ngan’s eyes darted toward the section where the twelfth-grade science class stood. No, to be precise, he looked straight at Hua Viet Vy.

Hua Viet Vy instantly averted her eyes, trying to melt into the background. I knew she wanted to retreat, to escape the impending storm. Unfortunately for her, it was far too late. I lifted the microphone closer to my lips, my voice measured yet carrying easily across the entire schoolyard.

“Principal, this whole ordeal is far from a simple misunderstanding.”

“Long before I ever stumbled upon that discarded schoolbag, someone had already painstakingly prepared a tear-jerking script for today's performance.”

“And their ultimate goal was never just about thirty thousand yuan.”

“It was about securing my guaranteed university recommendation slot.”

The moment those words echoed through the air, the courtyard erupted as if a boulder had been hurled into a stagnant pond.

“A guaranteed recommendation slot?”

“What on earth does that mean?”

“Didn't Hua Tri Ngan claim it was for his mother’s vital surgery?”

“Wait, isn't Hua Viet Vy currently ranked second on the alternate list for recommendations? No, wait a minute, I heard she only missed out on outscoring Ha Tran by a single point.”

Principal Dam snapped his head around, fixing a piercing stare directly at me.

“Ha Tran, do you have concrete proof of this?”

I answered firmly, “I have a portion of it right here, ready to be handed over to the school administration for thorough inspection.”

With a swift motion, I projected a series of screenshots onto the main display. It was a thread pulled directly from the school’s anonymous online forum. The account username belonged to someone named “Tu”. The provocative title read: If a student holding a recommendation slot is exposed for moral corruption, will their nomination eligibility be revoked?

The timestamp showed it was posted at 11:46 PM last night. The questions raised within the thread were chillingly specific.

“The school has already finalized the list of nominees, but if the top-ranking student is proven to be a thief and receives a disciplinary record, will the administration reshuffle the rankings?”

“During the temporary suspension period of application submissions, do the alternate candidates stand a chance?”

“Can public pressure force the administration to process this disciplinary action swiftly?”

Beneath the main post, several replies were clearly visible. One user commented, “That entirely depends on the official disciplinary verdict handed down by the school.” Another chimed in, “If this blows up into a massive scandal, to protect the institution’s reputation, the school might halt applications indefinitely.”

The original poster then probed further: “Would it be more effective to publicly expose this during the Monday flag-raising ceremony?”

I scrolled through the slides one by one, laying bare the premeditated scheme. Down below, not a single soul dared to raise their voice anymore. The last remaining trace of color completely vanished from Hua Viet Vy’s face. Yet, she stubbornly refused to concede, refusing to the very end.

“Anyone can register an anonymous account on the forum! What gives you the right to claim that person is me?”

I turned my gaze slowly toward Dean Thieu.

“Director, logging into our school’s internal forum requires authentication via the campus intranet. Can the administrative IT department trace the specific device and registered account used?”

Dean Thieu’s expression turned grim and solemn. “Yes, that can certainly be checked.”

Hua Viet Vy immediately blurted out, “Even if it can be checked, there is always the possibility that someone else borrowed my account or used my device without my knowledge!”

I nodded calmly. “Very well. Let us examine something else, then.”

I continued addressing the crowd, “When I first picked up the schoolbag, I discovered a handwritten draft tucked inside. The contents match almost word-for-word what Hua Tri Ngan just wailed about on stage.”

Hua Tri Ngan suddenly lunged forward, clutching his schoolbag tightly against his chest as if guarding his life. But it was far too late. Dean Thieu had already strode up directly in front of him.

“The items contained within that schoolbag must be surrendered for immediate registration and inspection.”

Hua Tri Ngan desperately tried to resist, refusing to let go. “These are my personal belongings!”

I looked down at him and asked, “Just moments ago, when you loudly demanded a public inventory of the money and demanded my immediate punishment, why didn't you care about them being personal belongings then?”

His face flushed a deep, ugly shade of crimson. Principal Dam barked in a stern, authoritative voice, “Hua Tri Ngan, cooperate with the school investigation immediately.”

Cornered, he finally loosened his white-knuckled grip. Dean Thieu reached into a hidden compartment of the bag and retrieved a crumpled piece of paper. As it was unfolded and projected onto the massive screen above, the damning words became clear to everyone present.

Written in neat handwriting were the lines:

“Respected Principal, I harbor no wish to ruin Ha Tran’s bright future, but my mother is currently languishing in a hospital bed, desperately awaiting life-saving funds.”

“Since he has already secured a guaranteed spot at the top universities, I only wish to reclaim the thirty thousand yuan rightfully belonging to my family.”

“I implore the school to handle this with the utmost severity and refuse to let someone with profound moral failings represent our institution.”

Every single sentence mirrored the melodramatic performance Hua Tri Ngan had just delivered on stage. At the very bottom, there was a line of hastily scribbled text that had been half-erased with aggressive strokes. Yet, the remaining fragments still revealed crucial keywords.

“Flag-raising ceremony… large crowd… review recommendation status…”

The entire schoolyard broke out into absolute chaos.

“Was this entire script written beforehand?”

“And yet, he was crying tears that looked so genuine just now!”

“My god… he deliberately set Ha Tran up!”