Chapter 1 — Eight Stolen Years

My best friend hid my college records in a junkyard for 8 years, and the day she found it again... she panicked. In 2018, I was the valedictorian of the whole city in the university exam. But on the day I received the results, my document bag suddenly and strangely disappeared. From then on, I could not enroll in school. I dropped out of school midway, delivered food every day, swept trash on the street, and was laughed at by the whole village as "the kid who studies well but still doesn't get along in the end". No one knows... I was the person most able to get out of that poor village. Until today, 2026. The owner of the waste station in the same village called me back:

“Girl, in this pile of scraps there is a bag with your name written on it.”

I bent down to pick it up. My hands began to shake violently. Inside is the exam admission notice, transcript, and university admission notice. All are intact. At the bottom of the bag was pressed a piece of yellowed paper:

“Sorry… but the leader can only be me.”

I looked at that familiar handwriting. Then, right on the spot, I called the police.

“Chu Le, come here for a moment.”

Uncle Vuong at the bottle station was holding a cigarette, standing in the distance and calling me. At his feet was a pile of old books and cardboard covers that were soaked in rainwater until they were blistered.

“In this pile of junk there is a parchment bag, it seems to have your name written on it.”

My heart stopped for a beat. The body reacts faster than thought. I squatted down, reached towards the pile of trash, and my fingertips began to tremble uncontrollably. The bag was crushed at the bottom, the edges were worn to the point of fraying, but the black print in the middle was still as clear as if burned into my eyes.

“University exam candidate profile — Chu Le.”

I pulled it out. It's been eight years. In 2018, I was the valedictorian of the whole province in the university exam. This same bag of documents disappeared without a trace. My life also disappeared accordingly. I dropped out of school, delivered food, swept trash on the street, and stood in restaurant kitchens washing dishes. The people in the village went from regretful to pitying, then finally turned into blatant laughter.

“If you study a lot, you will gain nothing, in the end you will still be a waste.”

"Reading books makes you stupid, you can even lose your documents."

My mother's hair turned white overnight. My father bowed his head and avoided everyone he met. I tore the seal on the file bag. The white thread is still intact, showing that it has never been opened. Each item inside is poured out one by one. Exam admission notice. Health examination card. But there is no admission notice. That year the notice was sent directly to me. I received it, but later it disappeared. I turned the bag upside down again. At the bottom of the bag fell a tiny pink sticky note. On it is a line of elegant letters.

“Sorry, but the leader must be me.”

I'm so familiar with this handwriting. It's Tham Nguyet. My best friend. Also the person who replaced me at Capital University that year. I laughed. Laughed so much that my whole body was shaking. The phone vibrates continuously, it's a WeChat message. Tham Nguyet posted in the group "Good Sisterhood".

"Ladies, look at the bag my husband gave me today, it's limited edition."

Attached is a photo of her intimately leaning against Luc Xuyen, behind is the luxurious villa living room. The person I liked all through high school. Immediately after that, Tham Nguyet posted another post on her friends circle.

“I really love my best friend Chu Le. Obviously he tried his best, but fate was so unfair. If possible, I would like to use everything to give him a better future. @Chu Le”

Below are a series of comments from mutual friends.

“Nguyet Nguyet is truly both beautiful and kind.”

"Chu Le is so sorry, having a friend like you is her blessing."

“Don't think too much, everyone has their own destiny.”

I stared at the sentence "each person has a destiny", my stomach churned violently. Eight years of pain, humiliation and unwillingness exploded like a volcano in my chest. I don't answer. I stood up, carefully put everything back in my file bag, and hugged it tightly. Then call 110. The phone is quickly connected.

“Hello, hello, is this the police station?”

“I want to report the crime.”

The police officer on the other end of the line was very patient, listening to me tell the whole incident in the shortest possible terms. Then he asked a few key questions.

“Miss Chu, can anyone prove that this file bag was found at the waste station?”

“Yes, Uncle Vuong — the owner of the waste station.”

“That piece of paper, can you confirm that it is the other person's handwriting?”

“Do you have direct evidence that she stole your records that year?”

I was silent. The piece of paper has no name or date. The road eight years ago also had no surveillance cameras. The policeman's voice became mechanical in accordance with the procedure.

“Miss Chu, I understand your mood. But based only on a note and a recovered file, it is very difficult to make a case. Legally, this cannot create a complete chain of evidence. You need stronger evidence.”

I hung up. The cold wind blew and I suddenly shivered. It's been eight years. She had long since erased all traces. If I just rush up now, holding the file bag and questioning her, she will definitely cry and say she doesn't know anything. Then everyone will think I'm crazy. That because I was jealous, I slandered her. I can't go like that. I want her to admit it herself. I want her in front of me, little by little, tearing off with her own hands the false mask she has worn for eight years. I returned home. The two-story house was already quiet because of my "fall". My father was squatting in the yard smoking. As soon as he saw me, his eyes immediately avoided him. My mother stayed in the kitchen and didn't come out. I went into the living room and put the file bag on the table.

“Dad, Mom, you two come over here.”

My father stubbed out his cigarette and walked over. My mother also poked her head out from the kitchen, her face full of fatigue. I pushed the pink sticky note in front of them. The three people were as silent as ch. A few seconds later, my mother burst into tears and rushed to hug me tightly. My father, a man over fifty years old, his eyes immediately turned red and he slammed his fist on the table.

“That beast from the Tham family, I have to go tear it apart!”

I pulled my father's hand back, my voice was not loud but extremely determined.

“Dad, don't get involved in this matter. I want to solve it myself.”

My mother cried and asked:

“Le Le, what are you going to do? Don't do anything foolish."

I looked at her.

“Mom, I'm not stupid.”

“I just want to take back the life that should belong to me.”