Chapter 17: The Plagiarism Scandal
“My design theme is ‘Breaking the Cocoon’.”
Evelyn’s voice was no longer trembling. Instead, it carried a sense of calm.
On the review panel, a few professors exchanged glances. Professor Hays leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her posture one of pure judgment, devoid of warmth.
Evelyn opened the first page of her portfolio. It was a concept drawing, sketched in charcoal, outlining countless intersecting lines that formed an abstract shape resembling both a chrysalis and a cage.
“‘Breaking the Cocoon’ represents a form of bondage. An exterior shell that was once mistaken for protection, but eventually became the imprisonment itself.”
Her gaze swept over the unfamiliar faces in the audience, but ultimately, it was uncontrollably captured by that familiar, cold gravitational pull.
Damian did not move. Not even the curve of his lips changed.
But the index finger of the hand resting on his knee tapped once, unconsciously, a movement so slight it was almost imperceptible.
Yet, Evelyn saw it.
That was his telltale sign of impatience.
He understood.
Of course, he understood.
Every word she spoke was aimed precisely at the control he prided himself on.
Excellent.
Evelyn turned to the next page, revealing the design sketch for the first finished garment.
“The first phase of this collection, I call ‘Fracture’.”
She pointed to the dress on the drawing, with its distorted structure. The fabric seemed to be torn by an invisible force, exposing the lining of a different material underneath.
“When the life within the shell begins to awaken, it discovers that the once flawless world is riddled with cracks. Light penetrating these fissures is both hope and the beginning of pain.”
“Next is ‘Resistance’.”
She continued to flip through the pages, displaying one design after another.
Sharp tailoring, bold asymmetric designs, soft silk clashing with hard metallic accessories.
Every garment was filled with unyielding tension.
A subtle stir began in the auditorium.
The audience, who had initially been there for entertainment, gradually sat up straight.
Evelyn noticed that Professor Hays had slightly leaned forward at some point. Her stern eyes were fixed on the details of the design drawings, as if trying to bore through the paper with her gaze.
“Finally, ‘Rebirth’.” Evelyn turned to the last page.
It was a pure white gown. The design appeared simple, but it featured a large structure on the back, like a pair of unfolding butterfly wings.
The structure was composed of countless layers of thin gauze, light and full of power, as if ready to soar with the wind at any moment.
“When the old shell is completely broken, the new life gains its wings.”
She closed the portfolio with a soft snap.
“My presentation is concluded.”
Evelyn raised her head, looking directly at the review panel.
Her heart pounded so fast it felt like it would burst out of her chest. The back of her clothes was soaked with cold sweat.
She stood like a prisoner awaiting judgment, placing her fate in the hands of these design masters.
The venue fell silent.
Everyone held their breath.
Professor Hays did not speak immediately. She just looked at Evelyn, her expression complex.
Disappointment and strictness, but there seemed to be something else added to it.
A long-dormant emotion called "admiration."
And in this dead silence, a clear, sarcastic round of applause abruptly rang out.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
The applause was measured and slow, coming from the corner of the audience seating.
Evelyn’s body stiffened. All the blood in her body seemed to freeze instantly.
It was Damian.
He stood up, wearing that familiar, hypocritical smile she knew so well.
“I have a question.”
His voice was not loud, but it instantly drew everyone’s attention.
Professor Hays frowned and motioned for him to continue.
Damian stood up, holding a blue folder. A polite but distant smile played on his lips. “Evelyn’s design is suspected of plagiarizing a core, unreleased proposal from our Omni Company.”
Before he finished speaking, the venue erupted in an uproar.
Damian handed the folder to the review panel. Inside was an exquisitely produced design proposal. Both the concept and details bore a striking resemblance to Evelyn’s work.
“Evelyn, do you have an explanation?” Professor Hays’s voice turned cold.
Evelyn’s gaze swept over the fabricated “evidence.” She calmly pointed out, “The final draft date of this proposal is last Wednesday. However, my design inspiration originated three years ago. I have the original manuscript here.”
She pulled several yellowed sheets of paper from a hidden layer in her portfolio. They were pencil sketches, slightly rough, but the core design language was consistent with her work today.
Just then, the main hall door was violently pushed open. Sienna rushed in, her hair disheveled, tear streaks on her face, heading straight for Damian.
“Evelyn has the status of Mrs. Green, yet she fails to properly fulfill her duties as a wife!” she wailed, her voice sharp and wronged. “Now, to hurt Damian, she has resorted to such an act!”
“I can prove that Evelyn stole company secrets!”
This succession of dramatic incidents completely derailed the defense.
Professor Hays, unable to tolerate it any longer, announced a recess.
In the lounge, the professor looked at Evelyn and sighed, “I believe in your talent, but what happened today is too complicated. I need time to verify, and the results will be temporarily withheld.”
Evelyn walked out of the hall and immediately saw Damian confronting a familiar figure in the corner.
It was Ethan.
He had a bandage on his forehead and looked pale.
“Well, playing the hero, getting yourself into this state?” Damian’s tone was full of mockery.
“You have gone too far!” Ethan said angrily.
Damian sneered and shoved Ethan hard. Ethan, already unsteady, staggered and nearly fell.
“Stop it!” Evelyn rushed over and stepped in front of Ethan.
“Get away from me!” Damian’s eyes burned with rage. He roughly shoved her aside with force.
Evelyn’s body lost its balance. Her lower back hit the corner of the wall hard, and a sharp, sudden cramp shot through her abdomen.
She gasped in sharp pain, biting her lip hard to stifle any sound.
The piercing pain felt like a cold awl plunging deep into her lower abdomen, instantly draining all the strength from her body.
Evelyn’s nails dug into her palms. The intense pain made her vision blur, but she stubbornly clung to the wall, refusing to slide down.
She could not collapse.
She absolutely could not show weakness in front of Damian.
“Evelyn! Are you alright?” Ethan, disregarding his own shaking body, struggled to step forward and support her.
His hand had barely touched her arm when Damian roughly slapped it away.
“Do not touch her!” Damian’s voice was squeezed out between his teeth, laced with a twisted possessiveness. “Who do you think you are, to dare touch my wife?”