Chapter 5 — A Sweetness Forgotten

The second semester exam came faster than anyone thought. The bulletin board in the school hallway is covered with exam schedules. Every morning, twelfth grade students gather in front of the board, sighing at the overwhelming number of exams in two weeks.

Diệp Chi still holds the top position, but this year the pressure is much heavier - not only because of the upcoming graduation exam, but also because she knows that after this exam, the whole class will gradually separate to study for separate university entrance exams, without having as much time to gather as before.

"I wish time would slow down a bit," Tường Vy lamented during recess, putting her head down on the table. "It's almost the end of the school year."

"YES." Diệp Chi nodded, eyes still glued to the thick Chemistry book. "There are three months left until the graduation exam."

"What are you and Khoi doing? Are you planning to take the same university exam?"

The question made Diệp Chi pause, her pen stopping in the middle of the page. She had never thought that far ahead — not because she didn't want to, but because she knew her circumstances didn't allow her to dream too much. College tuition, living expenses, books — all were numbers she had to calculate every penny herself, while for Thế Khôi, choosing a university was simply choosing the best school that fits her future inheritance plan.

"I haven't thought about it," she replied, her voice evasive.

"It's okay, I won't ask anymore." Tường Vy realized the sensitivity of her question and quickly changed the subject.

In the evening, after closing the shop, Diệp Chi sat and studied alone under the light of an old table lamp, with the window slightly open to let in the cool night breeze. There was a sudden knock on the door - Thế Khôi stood outside, holding a bag of late-night snacks, a thin jacket over his uniform.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" Diệp Chi opened the door in surprise, glanced at the clock, it was already past nine o'clock in the evening.

"Bring late-night snacks for your friends to study." Thế Khôi handed over the bag of food and smiled shyly. "I guess you haven't eaten anything yet."

"You guessed right." Diệp Chi received the bag and invited him to sit at the study table, although she was a bit hesitant because her mother was asleep, leaving only the two of them in the quiet space of the tea shop late at night.

Diệp Chi opened the food bag and saw inside were two boxes of hot chicken porridge, along with a bottle of orange juice. "How do you know I like chicken porridge?"

"Just guess." Thế Khôi sat down on the chair opposite, watching her eat with satisfaction. "Besides, studying late at night and eating too much food can cause indigestion, so porridge is the most suitable."

"You calculated it so carefully," Diệp Chi scooped a spoonful of porridge, ate and spoke, her voice becoming happier after a long and tiring day. "Who did you learn it from? Did the private chef teach it?"

"No, I just thought of it myself." Thế Khôi smiled, his eyes shining with a little pride that was rarely shown. "I'm also trying to learn how to take care of others in a normal way, without relying on anyone to do it for me."

"Great progress." Diệp Chi teased, but inside she was secretly touched by that quiet thoughtfulness - not the kind of thoughtfulness that flaunts with expensive gifts, but the kind that pays attention to the smallest details in her daily life.

After eating, the two cleaned up neatly and began to sit next to each other, studying Chemistry for the upcoming exam. Thế Khôi is good at theory and has a solid grasp of recipes, but weak at practical applications - a part that Diệp Chi masters thanks to daily cooking experience. Two people complement each other naturally, no one needs to try.

"Please explain this reaction balance part to me again," Diệp Chi pointed to a difficult exercise, "I keep getting confused about the coefficients," Thế Khôi bent down and patiently explained each step, his deep voice resounding in the quiet space of the tea shop at midnight. Diệp Chi listened attentively, but occasionally her eyes absentmindedly glanced at his profile under the warm yellow light of the table lamp, noticing something she had never paid close attention to before - his facial features, when focused, had an unusually serious and trustworthy look.

"Did you hear what I said?" Thế Khôi suddenly asked, realizing her eyes were looking at him, not at the assignment.

"Yes... yes." Diệp Chi was startled and quickly bent down to look at the page again, her ears burning.

Thế Khôi was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, his voice smaller than usual. "Diệp Chi, after graduation, what do you plan to do?"

The question made Diệp Chi pause. She put down her pen and looked out the window at the small, dark yard. "I don't know for sure yet. Maybe the entrance exam is for a food-related field, or economics. But it remains to be seen what the tuition will be and whether there will be any scholarships."

"If there were no tuition fees, what would you like to study?"

"If there is no tuition problem?" Diệp Chi laughed softly, her voice was a bit bitter and she couldn't hide it. "That's easy to say, no one can dream. But life doesn't have such an easy 'if', Thế Khôi," He remained silent, realizing that he had just asked a question that was a bit naive compared to the reality she was living in. "Sorry. I didn't mean—"

"It's okay." Diệp Chi shook her head, her voice softened. "I'm not angry. It's just that sometimes I forget, you and I see the future in two very different ways."

"I want to understand how you look at it," Thế Khôi said, his eyes sincere. "Honestly." Diệp Chi looked at him for a long time, then sighed and decided to open up a bit. "Okay. If there's no problem with tuition, I want to study Food Technology, then open my own restaurant — not a street vendor like my mother is now, but a proper restaurant that can grow into many branches. I want my mother's recipe to be known to many people, not just confined to a small alley."

"Then you should study that," Thế Khôi said, his voice firm as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You have real talent and passion. Tuition is a problem that can be solved — scholarships, student loans, part-time jobs —"

"You say it so easily because you've never had to weigh every penny to live," Diệp Chi interrupted, not to blame, but just to say a truth she had carried in her heart for eighteen years. "For you, every door is open. For me, every door you have to push yourself, and sometimes you can't open it even if you keep pushing it."

The air in the room slackened. Thế Khôi did not refute, just sat silently, clearly feeling the invisible distance between the two people whose existence he had always tried to deny.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, his voice low. "I shouldn't talk like I understand everything."

Diệp Chi looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, her heart suddenly softened. "It's okay. There's nothing wrong with you. It's just... everyone's world is so different."

The two were silent for a long time, only the sound of the wall clock ticking and the sound of the wind blowing through the window. Then Thế Khôi, not knowing where the courage came from, gently placed his hand on the table, near Diệp Chi's hand holding the pen, not touching but close enough for her to feel the warmth.

“But I want to be a part of your world,” he said, his voice quiet but each word clear. "If you allow it."

Diệp Chi looked down at her hands close together on the old wooden table, her heart beating so fast that she was afraid Thế Khôi could hear it. She wanted to say something, but her throat felt tight and she couldn't say a word.

"It's late," was all she finally said, her voice shaking slightly. "You should go home, otherwise the driver will wait too long." Thế Khôi looked at her for a moment, realizing she wasn't ready to give a clear answer, so he just nodded and packed up his books. "Yes. Good luck studying for your exams."

He stood up, walked out the door, but stopped at the threshold and turned to look back. "This Diệp Chi."

"What?"

"No matter how different our worlds are," he said, his eyes steady under the streetlight, "I still want to learn how to enter your world. Slowly. I promise."

He left, leaving Diệp Chi standing hesitantly by the door frame, watching his shadow disappear into the dark alley. She gently touched her chest, feeling her heart still beating erratically, then went back into the house, sat down at her desk, but couldn't concentrate on studying anymore.

That night, she opened the notebook, but instead of a Chemical formula, she wrote small letters in the corner of the last page - not to send it to anyone, just to keep for herself a moment that she knew, no matter what the future held, she didn't want to forget: "Today Thế Khôi said he wanted to enter my world. I don't dare to believe it yet, but I want to believe it."

The next morning, when Diệp Chi recounted last night's story to Tường Vy during recess - of course omitting the part where their hands almost touched - her best friend immediately leaned forward, her eyes bright.

"Oh my god, so he confessed his love!" Tường Vy patted the table in excitement, causing a few people nearby to turn and look.

"No, he didn't say he loved me," Diệp Chi quickly waved her hand and lowered her voice. "He just said he wanted to enter my world."

"So it's not like confessing love in a roundabout way." Tường Vy shook her head and clicked her tongue. "Rich boys are like that, they talk like they're reading a movie script, they don't even say 'I like you' straight away."

"Well... that's not necessarily the case." Diệp Chi lowered her eyes, but the corners of her lips still could not hide a small smile. "I haven't answered anything yet."

"Why don't you answer?" Tường Vy frowned. "You like it, right?"

Diệp Chi was silent for a moment, looking out at the schoolyard where Thế Khôi was standing with Đình Bách, holding a basketball in hand, laughing and talking like any other normal student. "I like it. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid that if I nod, if something happens later, I'll lose more than I gain."

Tường Vy looked at her friend, did not say anything more, just gently wrapped her arms around Diệp Chi's shoulder, as a wordless way of comforting the worries that she knew her friend was carrying in her heart, much heavier than her eighteen years.