Chapter 3 — After taking the university entrance exam, I transferred my household registration to my adoptive mother's house

"The documents are complete. Are you sure you want to transfer?"

“Sure.”

"After moving, it's not just a matter of changing a few simple lines of information. Your civil status and personal records will all change."

“I know.”

“Does your adoptive mother agree to take you in?”

“She… is always waiting for me to come home.”

Female police officer Chu said nothing more. She typed a few times on the keyboard, opening the system interface. A young male police officer next to him curiously turned his head to look.

“Miss Chu, what is the case?”

“Not the case.” Ms. Chu did not turn back. “Change household registration.”

The male police officer looked at me, then looked at the computer screen, and muttered:

“It's hot like this and still running to change household registration…”

Female police officer Chu calmly replied:

"She just finished her university entrance exam, her parents took the other children to Sanya to play, leaving her at home."

The male police officer's head immediately turned towards me. The look in my eyes changed right on the spot. That expression can be summed up in four words:

“Why did it come to this?”

I smiled at him.

“It's okay, I'm used to it.”

The male police officer opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, looked at me and then looked at Ms. Chu, but in the end he still didn't say anything. Female police officer Chu spoke up:

"I have received the documents. The system needs two to three working days to review. The transfer destination must also confirm. Go back and wait for the notification."

I turned around to leave.

“Wait a minute.”

Ms. Chu called me back. She opened the drawer, took out something, stood up and passed it through the transaction window. A bottle of iced lemon tea.

"Take a drink. It's hot outside."

I took it, the cold water drops on the bottle's body flowed down to my fingertips.

“Thank you, Ms. Chu.”

“No need to thank me.”

Her voice was very low.

"Life is yours. Once you've moved on, live it well."

I opened the bottle, tilted my head back and took a big sip. I walked out of the police station gate, the sunlight was so bright that it stung my eyes. The sound of cicadas echoed throughout the sky. I stood on the steps, took out my phone and took a photo of the police station gate. Send it to Trieu's mother. Does not include any text. Three seconds later, Trieu's mother sent back a series of exclamation points. Next is a voice clip. I pressed open, her voice was intermittent, mixed with sobs and a muffled nasal voice.

“Okay… okay okay… Mom will go get ready now…”

I put my phone back in my pocket, screwed the cap on my water bottle, and slowly walked towards the bus stop. Strangely calm inside. Doing the right thing... turns out to be this feeling. No agitation. Not excited. Just feel... Finally able to step out. After returning home, I did one more thing. I locked the drawer under my father's TV shelf. The inside is now empty, but… Who cares? They never opened it anyway. While the household transfer procedure was still pending approval, I had three rare quiet days at home. How quiet is it? My mother posts pictures of Sanya to the family group every day, and the caption style is terrifyingly stable. First day:

“The sky is so blue, the sea water is so clear, Duyet Duyet looks so beautiful in her swimsuit!”

Day two:

"Black Hao Hao has gone around, he's been playing like crazy."

Day three:

“Kien Quoc said this hotel's price is really worth the money. Will definitely come back next time!”

In three days, she posted a total of forty-seven photos. There is a photo of my sister posing. There is a photo of my younger brother playing in the sand. There is a photo of my father standing with his hands on his hips looking at the sea. There is a photo of my mother I held the coconut and smiled brightly. Forty-seven panels. Not a single photo mentioned me. No one in the group could ask a single question:

“Chu Chu, have you eaten yet?”

“Chu Chu, what are you doing?”

Even the sentence:

“Chu Chu, have you fed the hamster yet?”

There isn't either. On the contrary, the hamster I took care of was quite good and became quite fat. My daily activities are extremely disciplined. Wake up at nine o'clock in the morning, cook, and clean up after eating. In the afternoon, go out for a walk, stop at the library to sit for a while, and come back to cook dinner in the evening. At night, I called Trieu's mother. Every time she answered the phone, her voice was extremely cheerful.

"Chu Chu, today I packed your favorite meat-filled chive dumplings. When you come home, I'll cook them for you to eat."

"Uncle Trieu helped me clean the room, the blanket was dried in the sun, and the pillow was replaced with new cotton."

“Ah yes, last time you said you wanted to eat eggs stir-fried with dried radishes, I finished salting them, I just opened the jar today…”

The "Uncle Trieu" that Trieu's mother mentioned was not her husband.

My next-door neighbor, Uncle Trieu Dai Minh. Trieu Que Lan has never been married in her entire life. The year she adopted me, she was only twenty-eight years old and opened a tofu stall alone in the market. Raised me for ten years. Then he waited alone for another eight years. Now she is forty-six years old, still living alone. There was a matchmaker for her. But she refused. The reason is only one sentence:

"My daughter hasn't come home yet, wait until she comes back and then figure it out."

That one sentence... She waited for eight years. I picked up my phone and scrolled through the chat with Trieu's mother. The first message was from three years ago, when I had just learned to use WeChat. Then I added her account and sent a message:

“Mom, it's me.”

She answered immediately. Two o'clock in the morning. Reply immediately. After that, he sent dozens of voice clips in succession, both crying and laughing, asking me if I had grown taller, if I was skinny, if I was eating well. From then on, we talked every day. Sometimes voice calls, sometimes text messages. She sent me business stories at the tofu stall. Send funny stories you encounter at the market. Send a photo of the small tomato plant she planted that has begun to bear fruit. And I sent her the monthly exam scorecard. Send photos of food in the school canteen. There's only so much I can send. Because besides my academic achievements... In that house, I have nothing. On the fourth day, female police officer Chu at the police station called me.

"Lam Chu, the procedure is complete, the moving place has also confirmed it. Please arrange a time to get a new household registration card."

“Yes, I will come today.”