Chapter 36 — Betrayed by My Own Mother, Saved by My Mother-in-Law

Luong Mai looked up, her eye sockets rimmed with red. "I don't want to."

"Then let's go find Professor Ha."

Her voice was barely a whisper. "But my parents are coming here tomorrow. They threatened that if I don't go back home obediently, they will storm the administration office and humiliate me, calling me an unfilial daughter." The word "unfilial"—that cursed, suffocating noose that had tightened around the necks of so many women. I grabbed my coat. "Let’s go." Tran Que Phan scrambled off her bed. "I’m coming too." Bach Tue stood up as well. "I know the way to the Student Affairs Office. I'll join you." In the dead of night, cold mist blanketed the campus, the sickly yellow streetlights casting long, distorted shadows of the trees onto the asphalt. Luong Mai paced beside me, her voice taut with anxiety. "Trieu Thu, back when I said your situation was complicated, it was actually because I was afraid of being implicated."

"I know."

She turned to look at me. "Are you not angry?"

"I was." I didn't mince words. "But this is not the time to settle such trivial scores."

She bowed her head, walking in silence for a while. "I always deceived myself into thinking I was better off than you. I had city residency, parents with respectable jobs, and proper clothes. But now that I’m being forced into marriage, I realize with shame that my fate is no better than yours." I replied, "You passed the entrance exam to get here, so your life is not something they can simply snatch away just because they say so." Luong Mai looked up at me. "Did you think that way back then?" I pondered for a moment. "No. At first, I only knew how to cry. It was much later that someone finally asked me if I still wanted to study."

"Did your mother-in-law ask you that?" Luong Mai whispered.

"Yes."

"She is a wonderful person."

"She is," I continued. "And now, someone is asking you the same thing. Do you still want to study?"

Luong Mai faltered for a heartbeat. When she finally spoke, her voice had hardened with resolve: "I do." Professor Ha’s residence was within the faculty housing complex. When we knocked on her door, she was still awake, grading freshman essays. Upon hearing Luong Mai’s explanation, Professor Ha’s expression darkened. "When your parents arrive tomorrow, I will be there. The Student Affairs Office will also be present. Students of age have full autonomy over their education; the university will never allow family members to forcibly drag a student away." As if a thousand-pound weight had been lifted, Luong Mai collapsed onto a chair and sobbed into her hands. Professor Ha poured her a cup of warm water. "Stop crying. Now, write a formal statement. Clearly state your parents’ names, the man’s family name, the date you were forced into this engagement, and most importantly, your firm stance on staying." Luong Mai’s hands trembled as she held the pen. I pulled my chair closer. "Stay calm. Write the first sentence: 'I absolutely do not consent to deferring or quitting my studies.'" She glanced at me and nodded sharply. The pen raced across the white page. *I absolutely do not consent to deferring or quitting my studies.* The handwriting was a bit jagged, but for the first time, Luong Mai was stamping her own seal upon her life. The next morning, Luong Mai’s parents and the man’s family arrived at the school as expected. The suitor was around thirty, dressed in a sharp suit with an expensive watch on his wrist. As he stepped into the office, he furrowed his brows with an air of superiority. "School is fine, but the marriage was settled a long time ago. A woman shouldn't just go back on her word like that, should she?" Luong Mai’s father darkened. "Luong Mai, don't you dare shame this family." Her mother wiped her tears with a handkerchief. "We are only doing this for your future. The family has such good conditions; you’ll live in comfort, so why lose out on that?" Luong Mai pressed herself against Professor Ha, her face drained of color. I stood outside the door with Tran Que Phan and Bach Tue; we didn't enter, but we lingered so that Luong Mai would know she had allies nearby. The advisor from the Student Affairs Office flipped through a file. "Student Luong Mai is over eighteen and was admitted through the standard university entrance exam. The school has never received a withdrawal request from the student herself; therefore, no one has the right to remove her from this campus." The man’s family looked annoyed. "We are an engaged couple." Professor Ha countered, "Do you have a marriage certificate?" The man was struck dumb. Luong Mai’s father tried to argue, "The engagement was witnessed and agreed upon by both sides of the family." Professor Ha’s voice remained icy. "An engagement carries no legal weight, and it certainly cannot strip a student of her right to study." Luong Mai’s mother turned to her daughter, wailing, "Are you truly going to disown your own parents?" Luong Mai gripped her knees so hard her knuckles turned white. Standing outside, my own heart constricted. That sentence was the most brutal weapon of all. Years ago, I had nearly collapsed under that very same weight. Luong Mai glanced toward the door. I didn't say a word, only gave a slight, encouraging nod. She turned back, her voice trembling but unbroken: "I am not disowning you. I am simply refusing to quit school." Her father slammed his hand on the table. "You've grown your own wings, haven't you!"