Chapter 9 — Behind the Door is Still Home

It was as if last night's bitter complaints, those cold calculations, the room and house book... never existed. I stared at the sentence:

“Waiting for you to come home.”

About a small motel out of town? Or go home and lie down on the makeshift folding bed in the living room? I type slowly. Then delete it. In the end, only one sentence remains.

“Happy New Year everyone”

No icons. No punctuation. Dry, exactly six words. I hit send. Then, without waiting for anyone to answer, swipe left directly and turn on "turn off notifications" mode. Conveniently drag the chat group from the main list. Out of sight is less annoying. On the morning of the first day, I didn't want to go anywhere. Most restaurants on food delivery apps are closed for Tet. It was very difficult to find a porridge shop that was still open. I ordered a portion of white porridge with some pickles. Shipper takes a long time to deliver. By the time I received it, the porridge was cold. I sat in front of the table, spoon after spoon mechanically put into my mouth. Can't feel any taste anymore. I just don't want to leave my stomach empty. The phone is unusually quiet. I turned off notifications for the family group, and for the work group, no one sent any messages because of the holiday. It was like the whole world suddenly left me out. That's good too. I just need this bit of isolation to digest all the truths that exploded last night, and I also need time to think clearly about what to do next. After anger, what remains is sanity. Call to question? Or immediately run back and make a fuss? That's something only children do. Besides tearing everyone's faces off, and then finally being labeled "disloyal", "not understanding", "fighting over house with younger sister"... what else is there? The house that needs to be renamed will still be renamed. The room that needs repair will still be repaired. Parents will cry. Tri Tinh will be angry. Chu Hao will go everywhere telling me I'm "not reasonable". Then what? In the end, the one who lost was still me. Even the last bit of fragile love can eventually fade away. But if you think about it carefully... That kind of friendship doesn't look like much anymore. But if I really tear everything apart now, to me there is no benefit at all. I put down the spoon. Go to the desk, pull out the drawer, and take out an old notebook from inside. Inside were a few bank cards, a few bills and papers, and... my household registration book. I stared at the page with my name on it. Head of household: Luc Kien Quan. Relationship to head of household: Eldest daughter. Big daughter. Those four words now only look ironic. On paper, in law, I am the "eldest daughter" of this family. But in my parents' calculations, in Tri Tinh and Chu Hao's calculations... I am just an "outsider who will get married sooner or later". But outsiders... What right do they have to ask about their mother's family? I closed the household registration book and put it back in its original place. Then pick up your phone and open the train ticket booking app. Find a flight from Nanchang to Hangzhou. After the 5th is the peak time to return to work, so there are very few tickets left. There are only a few sporadic high-speed train tickets left. The timing is not very good but you can still book them. My finger stopped on the “Book tickets” button for a few seconds. Then exit. Impossible. Can't go back now. What does it mean when you return now? Ask what's wrong? Isn't that what they meant? They will panic. Will hide. Will use love to force me. Use tears and soft words to hold me back. In the end, ten parts are still nine parts I give in. I took a step back. I continue "for the sake of the big picture". Just like countless times before. I have to find a reason. An excuse that forced me to return but did not make them suspicious. An opportunity for me to see everything clearly with my own eyes, calmly consider, then... Make a decision. I opened the company communication software and clicked on the direct manager's avatar.

"Mr. Vuong, have a happy new year. I can do the rest of the project remotely from home. I want to take a few more days off. I'll probably return to the company after New Year's Day. There are some things at home that need to be handled."

Waiting time for response is longer than I thought. I looked at the screen, my fingers gently tapping on the table. A few minutes later, the other party responded.

"Okay, you've worked hard. Let's deal with the house matters first. Let me know if there's anything about the project."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Then reopen the ticket booking application. This time, I chose the train on the afternoon of the third day. Payment successful. The screen shows: February 18, 2026, departure at 15:24, flight G2186, second class seat. My finger stopped on the “Refund” section for a moment. Then lock the screen. In the dark glass, my calm face was reflected. Two days left. The first day passed especially unpleasantly. I forced myself not to think about staying in my hometown anymore. I finished a few unfinished errands, then cleaned the room from top to bottom. Clean the windows. Clean every small corner in the kitchen and bathroom. I used my body's fatigue to suppress the thoughts swirling in my head. Until I was so tired that I couldn't stand up straight anymore, so I collapsed onto the sofa.