He and Chen Ziheng agreed to meet at his apartment.

They never usually chatted with each other; this was the first time they had met privately.

“What on earth is the school doing?”

“The old routine, holding meetings on campus, counselors intimidating students. This matter also involves the hospital, so the hospital is holding meetings too,” Chen Ziheng replied. “Nothing new.”

“Plus deleting comments, shadow-banning, and suspending accounts. The advisor's name disappeared before it even trended.”

He said in a low voice, “If there isn't any more news or solid evidence, the heat should die down quickly in a few days.”

“There is.” Cheng Shuo could no longer hesitate. “I got his computer, copied all the evidence he left, and I also have his phone.”

He pointed at the things he had placed on the table.

“What's in there?”

“Recordings, chat logs.”

“Is there a suicide note?” Chen Ziheng was silent for a long time before finally asking.

“No.” Cheng Shuo paused. “Or rather, I don't know if it counts.”

He got stuck, not even knowing how to say it.

Chen Ziheng looked at him.

“There's a piece of paper that says 'Quite unnecessary,' and a document that says 'Thank you.' I didn't bring the paper.”

He couldn't bear to see those words again.

Chen Ziheng pursed his lips. “What did the family say?”

Of course, he couldn't say that Cen Zeng's mother was the kind of person who wouldn't even hold a funeral for her own son.

“The family has fully entrusted me with everything.” He finally answered this way.

“They're not willing to speak out?”

“Overcome with grief.” Cheng Shuo bluffed casually. “See, the school hasn't heard from the family either, right?”

Chen Ziheng nodded.

He didn't ask about his relationship with Cen Zeng, only saying, “You need to think this through. Even if we have solid evidence, this matter might not have a good outcome.”

“Li Aimin has plenty of people protecting him. We're throwing an egg against a rock.” He said this with exceptional calmness.

'It doesn't matter, it's fine. Even if Li Aimin died, Cen Zeng couldn't come back. The person is already dead. He has to do what he can.'

“Then I'll have to rely on you to help me,” Cheng Shuo continued. “I'm begging you, Chen Ziheng.”

The person before him said nothing, only opening his computer.

They organized the materials, and Chen Ziheng went on Taobao to find someone to help make banners.

“There are other victims...” Chen Ziheng said. “Should we contact them?”

“Cen Zeng even censored their names.” Cheng Shuo replied. “Do you think he'd be willing?”

Chen Ziheng sighed and said, “True. The other victims, those who spoke out on Weibo, have probably all been contacted by the school by now.”

“Should I use my real name to present the evidence?” Cheng Shuo asked.

“If you're willing, that would be the most convincing,” Chen Ziheng said. “But it will definitely involve you. The school might make a big deal out of you. You don't care about school, but what about your parents?”

Cheng Shuo's parents didn't care about him at all. They usually just gave him money, hoping that he would act presentable on the few occasions a year when appearances mattered, and not cause any major trouble.

Was this major trouble?

At least in his heart, he wasn't the one causing trouble. The troublemaker was someone else.

“I don't think this is the wrong thing to do,” Cheng Shuo replied. “You're the Student Council president, and you're willing to help. What do I have to be afraid of?”

“I'm not willing to put my name on it,” Chen Ziheng answered. “I'm very hypocritical. I only show a little bit of my scarce kindness when it doesn't affect me.”

He was the same as ever, saying calmly, “I feel like you're going crazy. I personally suggest you don't use your real name for now. Release a little bit first. Anyway, the evidence is ironclad, and there's still a lot of attention today. If the school really comes after you later, and you've thought it through, then you can see how to present your ID card more forcefully.”

They sorted through the evidence, planning to release it bit by bit over three consecutive days to maintain the hype. They set the release time for eight o'clock tonight. At that time, everyone would have just finished dinner, making it the perfect moment to check for updates on the trending topics they saw on their way to work.

Cheng Shuo sent a message to Wu Yin, asking if he could provide any third-party accounts, promising to keep him anonymous.

Perhaps still in the middle of a breakdown, there was no reply.

So they continued sorting through the evidence, the recordings, and reading Cen Zeng's chat logs.

During this time, Zhang Yijie called to ask what was going on.

Cheng Shuo calmly explained everything, saying Cen Zeng had committed suicide, and that he felt his advisor bore a great deal of responsibility.

I have his laptop and phone, and they have evidence. I'm at home with Chen Ziheng organizing the materials now, and we plan to post on Weibo tonight. If you have time, bring some food over.

The person on the other end, seemingly reeling from some shock, eventually packed up some things and rushed through the door.

“You two?” He glanced over his buddy and the other acquaintance who always acted cool but whom he had grown up with.

Chen Ziheng was on Taobao discussing with someone which specific characters to bold and whether the layout was eye-catching enough.

Cheng Shuo was editing the recordings, adding subtitles to them.

Only Li Aimin's voice echoed: “Who do you think you are?”

Zhang Yijie sat down, breaking the silence, and said, “Time to eat?”

He waited for a while, maybe five minutes, maybe ten.

Eventually, both of them turned around and looked at the home-style food he had brought for them.

He had nothing to do, and seeing them like this, he didn't want to leave either.

So he simply started scrolling through Weibo.

It was already ten o'clock when he got up. He opened Weibo, opened WeChat, and suddenly the whole world was discussing Cen Zeng.

There were many versions of the story circulating, and with Cen Zeng's family not making an appearance, the speculation grew more and more intense.

Right now, the speculation was split half and half between his family problems, his mental health problems, and his advisor problems.

He refreshed, and the Weibo post from Cen Zeng's lab mate that he had just seen, which summarized the situation, was already gone.

He sighed and continued to scroll down.

Then Zhang Yijie suddenly sat bolt upright. “Holy shit.”

The two who were eating both turned their heads.

“The roommate who called the police has released a statement.”

Cheng Shuo subconsciously reached out his hand, but Zhang Yijie didn't immediately hand it over.

He was still staring at the screen, his expression turning very strange.

“What is it?” Cheng Shuo's heart suddenly skipped a beat.

Zhang Yijie finally passed the phone over, and Cheng Shuo saw the large characters on Weibo at a glance.

It was that Wu Yin:

【Please don't over-interpret things, I have something I want to say...】

His finger swiped across the screen, scrolling down.

Then, he saw a sentence that made his heart go completely numb—

【He had pre-existing mental health issues, which his advisor was aware of. The advisor hadn't contacted him these past few days, letting him rest. Auntie was also too overwhelmed by grief to speak out. These things are not what everyone imagines.】

It felt like something had slammed viciously into his chest.

Wu Yin had attached a picture. It was the white piece of paper he hadn't dared to take.

"Quite unnecessary".

【He was always a very kind person who took life seriously. I think he left these words hoping that the world could have a moment of peace. The deceased is gone; at the very least, please do not use rumors to hurt the people he cherished.】

He stared at the screen without speaking.

Chen Ziheng's voice sounded from the side, devoid of any discernible emotion: “The school has made its move.”

“So, his roommate has gone over to their side.”

Cheng Shuo didn't speak immediately. His fingers trembled slightly as he tapped open the comments section.

The top comment: “So you're saying it has nothing to do with the advisor then?”

Cheng Shuo's throat felt as if it were stuffed with a ball of cotton.

He stared for a long time, so long that Zhang Yijie couldn't help but ask, “Are you okay?”

Cheng Shuo smiled. “I'm fine.”

“Then what he said...”

“It's all lies,” Cheng Shuo said. “Oh, maybe not entirely. Two days ago, Cen Zeng's advisor told him to get out of the lab if he couldn't make it. He didn't reply.”

Zhang Yijie fell silent.

“I don't understand,” Cheng Shuo said. “I really don't understand.”

“I saw him today. He looked at the evidence with me. He took me to retrieve the belongings.” Cheng Shuo said. “Just a few hours ago.”

He took a deep breath. “Why?”

Zhang Yijie didn't speak.

Chen Ziheng answered him: “One person jumps, the whole dorm gets postgraduate recommendations.”

Cheng Shuo rushed to his computer, took a deep breath, and looked at his almost-finished draft. “Should we adjust the materials and post early? We can't delay any longer.”