Chapter 8 — After taking the university entrance exam, I transferred my household registration to my adoptive mother's house

"Classmate Lam Chu, congratulations on getting first place in the natural science class in the whole province. 709 points, truly excellent."

“Thank you.”

"Today we mainly want to interview you and your family, find out how a valedictorian was raised. Is it convenient?"

Tran Kha turned to Qian Le Hoa.

“This person is—”

Tien Le Hoa immediately sat up straighter, a prepared smile appearing on her face.

“I am Chu Chu's mother, Qian Lihua.”

“And this is Lam Chu's father—”

Lam Kien Quoc raised his hand.

“I am her father, Lam Kien Quoc.”

"Alright."

Tran Kha nodded, then looked at Trieu Que Lan.

“And who is this?”

Tien Le Hoa is one step faster than me.

"Ah, this is just a relative, just stopping by for a while, no need to pay attention."

Trieu Que Lan's fingers curled slightly on her knees. I see. Tran Kha also saw it. She is a good reporter. I spoke up.

“Reporter Tran.”

“She is not a relative.”

The smile on Tien Le Hoa's face immediately stiffened and she turned her head to look at me. The living room was silent for a moment. The cameraman's camera still made a soft buzzing sound. I stood up and walked next to Trieu Que Lan.

“This is Zhao Guilan.”

“She is my foster mother.”

“From the time I was born until I was ten years old, I was always raised by her.”

“You are the one who raised me to adulthood.”

Trieu Que Lan raised her head to look at me. Her lips trembled. But Tien Le Hoa's face... was pale. Lam Kien Quoc's fingers tightened on the sofa armrest. Tran Kha's eyes lit up. That's the instinctive reaction of a reporter when he smells big news. She didn't interrupt me, just slightly raised the microphone, bringing it a little more towards me.

“Classmate Lam Chu, can you be more specific?”

I don't look at Qian Lihua. Also don't look at Lam Kien Quoc. I looked straight into the lens.

“Not long after I was born, I was taken to aunt Trieu Que Lan's house.”

“She was twenty-eight years old that year, unmarried, selling tofu alone at the market, her economic conditions were not good.”

“But she still adopted me and raised me alone until I was ten years old.”

“When I was ten years old, my biological parents came to take me home.”

“The reason is because my academic performance in elementary school was quite good and was reported in the press.”

“So they took me home.”

“From then on, I lived at my parents' house for eight years.”

“Those eight years…”

I stopped for a moment.

“My mother has never attended any parent-teacher conferences.”

“My scholarship money was used to register for extra classes for my sister.”

“My room is only twelve square meters, but half of the wardrobe is still hers.”

“Every time the family goes on a trip, they never bring me along.”

“Right after this college entrance exam, they took their older sister and younger brother and flew to Sanya.”

“My duty is to stay home and look after the house… and feed the hamsters.”

The living room is so quiet that you can clearly hear the wind from the air conditioner. The city station's cameraman was carrying the camera, the lens unconsciously zooming closer to Tien Le Hoa's face. Her expression... The corner of her lips still had the "proud but humble" smile from before. But his eyes have completely changed. Not outrage. It's panic. Kind of scared as if wanting to scream:

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

She opened her mouth, but the sound was stuck in her throat. Lam Kien Quoc sat straight, not moving. His forehead began to be covered with graves foul. I continued talking.

“So after the college entrance exams ended, I made a decision.”

"While they were traveling these few days, I took my citizen ID card and household registration book to the police station..."

“Transfer my household registration back to Aunt Trieu Que Lan's name.”

The pen in Tran Kha's hand stopped. She raised her head to look at me, her expression wavering for a moment— From professional calm... Transformed into the vibration of a human being. The female reporter from the city station standing next to her had red eyes. I turned to Tran Kha and said the most important sentence today.

“Miss Tran.”

"I asked you, how was a valedictorian in the entire province raised?"

I turned around, raised my hand and pointed at Trieu Que Lan.

“You should interview…”

“It's her.”

Trieu Que Lan lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly. Her hands clasped each other tightly, her knuckles turning white. Tears fell onto the dark blue floral shirt, spreading in dark circles. But she didn't make any cry. She has always been like that her whole life. If you can carry it, then carry it yourself. If you can endure it, endure it yourself. Even crying... Crying in silence. In the living room, the only sounds were the buzzing sound of the camera operating and Tien Le Hoa's rapid breathing. I stood next to Trieu's mother, my hand on her shoulder. The recording session… It's over.