The files Vivian Shen sent arrived faster than Sierra expected—and far uglier than she was prepared for.
It was nearly 11 p.m. Only her desk lamp remained on, casting a warm pool of light in the otherwise dark dorm room. On her laptop screen, lines of data scrolled past: backend screenshots from anonymous troll accounts.
Same IP.Same posting pattern.Same timing.Same coordinated waves of attacks.
But what made her breath catch wasn't the patterns—it was the red boxes Vivian had carefully marked.
"Lin Family PR Team""External Public Relations Contractor""Primary Target: Sierra Song"
Her fingers tightened on the mouse until her knuckles turned white.
In the original novel, this was exactly how it happened.This was how Leon Lin destroyed her—quietly, cleanly, ruthlessly.
Smearing her name.Dragging her father's case back into the spotlight.Forcing her into a corner she could never escape.
And she… she had walked right into it.
Not this time.
A cold breath left her lungs as she closed the last file. Her pulse steadied, her mind sharpening with a clarity she hadn't felt in days.
Just then, Vivian's message popped up again:
Vivian:These accounts were paid through a PR contractor, but the invoice is… suspicious. It didn't come from the Lin family directly.
Sierra:Meaning someone's hiding behind them.
Vivian:Exactly. We're digging further.
Before she could reply, her phone vibrated again—this time with a name she hadn't seen since the chaos began.
Leon Lin.
The screen glowed with his caller ID, calm and cold.
Her breath stilled for half a second.Then she pressed accept.
"Sierra."His voice was low, steady—too steady.A tone she'd heard before in the original story, right before he manipulated her into silence.
She leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowing.
"What is it, Leon?"
A pause.As if he hadn't expected her to sound so detached.
"Let's talk," he said. "Face-to-face."
"No," she answered immediately. "If you have something to say, say it now."
Another silence, heavier this time.
"Your name is being dragged through the mud," he said finally. "And I don't want—"
"You don't want what?" she cut in, her voice cool. "For me to look like the villainess again?"
The line went quiet.
For the first time since the scandal began, she felt the faint, steady burn of control returning.
"You used this method in the original timeline," she thought bitterly."You won't do it to me again."
Before he could respond, she continued, "I already know. About the paid trolls. About the PR contractor. About the fake narratives."
The silence turned dangerous.
"Who told you that?" His voice dropped, controlled but sharp.
"So it's true?" she countered softly.
A breath.Barely audible.
Until he finally replied, "Meet me tomorrow after class. I'll explain everything."
"I'm not interested in explanations," Sierra said. "Only in the truth. And trust me, I won't sit still while someone tries to ruin me."
She ended the call before he could respond.
Her reflection stared back at her from the dark screen—tired, but sharper. Stronger.
Tomorrow, she thought, pushing her laptop closed.
Tomorrow, she would stop being hunted.
And begin hunting back.