Chapter 3 — Forcing My Mother to Sleep on the Sofa, Do You Think I Will Resist?

Tran Minh was stunned for a few seconds, as if someone had slapped him in the face. His face turned from blue to white, then from white to gradually purple with anger and shame. That so-called fragile "man's self-esteem" was torn apart by me right in front of everyone.

“You…” He trembled and pointed at me, his fingertips shaking, “you cruel woman!”

Before he could finish his words, he suddenly raised his hand, his fist ripped through the air, and aggressively punched me in the face. But I prepared in advance. The moment he rushed forward, I leaned aside and pressed the shortcut on my phone. The punch missed and hit the wall behind me, making a dull "thump" sound. At the same time, the calm voice of the operator rang out on my phone.

“Hello, is it 110?” My voice was also cold and clear, not shaking at all, "I'm reporting to the police. The address is area xx, building xx, room xx. My husband Tran Minh committed an act of domestic violence, and just now tried to hit me."

Tran Minh's arm raised in midair immediately stiffened. The words "report to the police" were like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing all of his anger and aggression. He quickly retracted his hand, his face turned pale, and he stammered an explanation.

"I... I didn't! I didn't hit you! I just... just wanted to push you away!"

The fierce look from before was immediately replaced by fear, looking both funny and pitiful. Ly Thuy Phuong was also really panicked. She never thought that her previously patient daughter-in-law would dare push things to the point of calling the police. She pointed at me, continuing to scream according to her familiar logic.

"You are truly cruel! Dare to report your husband to the police?! Is there any sense? Family matters should not be discussed outside, don't you understand?"

I was too lazy to argue, so I just continued to speak clearly into the phone.

“That's right, I'm currently facing a serious threat to my personal safety. I hope you guys will come and handle it soon.”

The police arrived very quickly. Two uniformed policemen stood at the door, and the tense atmosphere in the room immediately froze. Tran Minh and Ly Thuy Phuong were like two deflated balloons, collapsing on the spot. I calmly recounted the whole incident: from my mother being forced to sleep on the sofa, to me throwing my mother-in-law's luggage out, and then Tran Minh angrily tried to take action. Tran Minh stood next to him and tried to justify it, saying it was just "family conflict" and "husband and wife quarreling". Ly Thuy Phuong continued to act, wiping her tears while telling me how "unfilial" and "unruly" I was. I don't argue. Just quietly went into the bedroom and took out a file bag. In front of the police, I placed each thing on the tea table: the red book, the house purchase contract, and the bank statement proving that the money to buy the house before marriage was my personal money. White paper and black ink, bright red stamp. Everyone is saying one thing very clearly: this house has the Lam family name, not the Tran family name. Ly Thuy Phuong's crying immediately stopped. Tran Minh's face was even more unsightly than a dead person's. The police looked through the documents, their eyes became serious, and turned to Tran Minh to warn.

"Hey man, no matter whose name the house is in, what you're planning to do is wrong. If there's a next time, it won't just be a verbal reminder."

Then they turned to me, their voices softer.

"If you feel that your personal safety continues to be threatened, you can apply for a protection order from the court. Family conflicts should be handled calmly and carefully. then you can seek legal assistance.”

The police left. The room fell into dead silence. I pulled out the last piece of paper from my file bag. A divorce agreement has been prepared. I threw it on the table in front of Tran Minh. The sound of the paper falling was like the death knell for this marriage.

“Let's talk about divorce.”

My voice is calm and light as if talking about today's weather. Tran Minh looked at the agreement on the ground, then looked out the door - where his mother's luggage was still lying, and then looked back at me. A face he had never seen before—cold, determined, and utterly heartless. All his cover, all his support, in this moment I crushed him to nothing. He made a "thud" sound and sat down on the ground. Like a puddle of mud, no longer shapeless. Ly Thuy Phuong's "fighting" strength is even tougher than I thought. When I bluntly invited her out, she didn't go, but instead used her ultimate move: a ruse. She sat down on the cold tile floor in the hallway, kicking her legs wildly, slapping her thighs and crying. The cry was so loud and resounding like a street speaker that in less than a moment it brought the whole neighborhood to peek out to hear what was going on.

“Oh my god! I worked hard to raise my son, but in the end he married a house-destroyer!”

“Unfilial daughter-in-law, torturing her mother-in-law! Kick me out of the house, I don't even have a place to sleep!”

“She even told the police to arrest her husband! I want to force my mother and child to death!”

She cried as she spoke, turning black and white upside down, portraying herself as a pitiful mother-in-law who was oppressed to the extreme. Tran Minh stood next to her, his face was sometimes red, sometimes white, he reached out to pull her but was thrown away.

“Mom! Don't make trouble anymore! Quickly stand up!”

“I'm not standing! Today I have to let everyone judge! See if there is still justice!”

Some people who didn't know what was going on started pointing at me.

“Tieu Lam, why shouldn't we chase old people out like that?”

“That's right, family harmony is important. She's old, please bear with it a bit.”

Those words sounded light, but they were like soft knife strokes, using the words "filial piety" and "tradition" to tie me up. I stood at the door, coldly watching her one-man show. My heart was as calm as water, and even felt funny. I took out my phone, pointed it at her rolling on the ground, and dialed. Then, calmly speak to the crowd.

“Guys, sorry for bothering you.”

My voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough to drown out my crying.

“First, I bought this house before marriage and paid in full. The red book only has my name. I invite an outsider to leave my house, what's wrong?

There were immediately whispers in the crowd. I didn't stop, opened the gallery, played another video. That's the part I downloaded from the door camera yesterday. In the video, Ly Thuy Phuong is dancing in the square in the yard with other women, her movements are flexible, her spirit is energetic, she can turn her waist and kick her legs stronger than a young person.

“Second, she said her back hurt and she had to stay in the living room. My mother, who is over fifty years old and sat on the train for ten hours to visit, had to sleep on the sofa. Everyone, take a look, is this 'back pain'?"

The image of her jumping happily in the video is in complete contrast to her "barely alive" appearance lying on the ground. The neighbors' expressions began to change, and the whispering became more and more frequent.

“Eh… it doesn't look like this Looks like back pain.”

“Yesterday I saw her carrying two bags of rice upstairs.”

I turned off the video and conveniently sent the video I just recorded along with the square dancing clip to the building's residents. Accompanied by a brief explanation.