Chapter 2 — From Noodles to Glory

He didn't lift his head, his tone was very casual, as if he was asking what to eat tonight. "Excuse me?" "That day you said that to her in front of Mr. Truong and Tieu Luu, she lost all face. It was very difficult for me to calm her down, so that she would agree to continue staying in the project team. At least you have to express your attitude." "She lost face?" I stood at the bedroom door, in my arms holding my daughter who had just finished breastfeeding. "I'm a pregnant woman in the hospital. Being forced to cook for your female co-worker. Who's more embarrassed? "There you go again." Chu Han finally raised his head and frowned at me. "To Niem, can you stop thinking that way about everything? Luong Uyen and I are really just colleagues. If you continue like this, our lives cannot continue." Chu Han's movements also stopped. He put down the beer bottle, stood up and looked at me. "What did you say?" The living room was very quiet. There was only the sound of my daughter's soft breathing. "I said..." I looked at him. “If you feel like you can't live anymore, then don't continue living.” “To Niem.” He stepped forward, his voice cold. “Are you threatening me?” “I'm presenting the truth.” “Do you think I won't be able to live if I leave you?” He laughed. "Look at what you've become now? No job, no income, two children with you, what can you do if you leave me?" He said this very lightly. But every word has a thorn in it. "That's a bit harsh, To Niem, you don't have the capital to confront me. You'd better think clearly." He picked up his coat, went out to change shoes. "I'm having a party with the project team tonight, I won't come back for dinner." The door closed. He's gone. I stood in the middle of the living room, holding my daughter, still wearing gray pajamas that had been washed countless times until they were ruffled. He said I had no capital. Really? I lowered my head to look at the daughter in my arms. The baby slept very peacefully, her small mouth slightly puckered. "Baby, maybe I have to make a decision." I said softly. Then I took out my phone and flipped to a contact I hadn't used in a long time. The note is “Dao Vi”. My college roommate. Also the only person who knows my true identity. The message was very simple. "Vi, do you remember the account password of 'Nien Bach factory'?" Three seconds later, the other person sent a voice message. "Mom! Have you finally figured it out?!" Half an hour later Dao Vi arrived. She brought a bouquet of flowers, a bag of fruit and a brand new laptop. “Don't ask, you'll need it.” She placed the computer in front of me. I looked at the computer, a bit bewildered. I haven't touched design software in three years. Since the day Chu Han told me to quit my job, I have never accepted any projects as "Niem Bach". "Niem Bach Studio" is an independent design brand I founded while studying in graduate school. Specializing in creating high-end brand images and product interface designs. After graduating, I worked and operated it. Before I quit my job, I had received more than ten million-level projects, and was somewhat famous in the world. But no one knew that "Niem Bach" was me. Including Chu Han. "Do you know how much the outside price is for your factory now?" Dao Vi sat next to my bed, peeling an apple and said. "How much?" "Last month, a brand manager of a listed company came to me and asked if Niem Bach still accepted projects, quoting a price of three million for an individual project." "I haven't updated my portfolio in three years." "So what? The things you left in the past are living signs. Furthermore..." Dao Vi leaned closer to me, lowering her voice. "Do you know about her husband's project 'Northern Lights'? you, who is Party A?" "I don't know. He never told me the details of his job." "Party

A is Tri Vien Group." I was stunned. Tri Vien Group. "Do you remember Tri Vien's brand director Truong Loi?" "Remember. I've done brand upgrades for them twice before.” “That's right. Recently, Truong Loi asked me to submit an article, saying that Tri Vien's new project was being bid. In the bidding documents, it clearly stated that the supplier's visual plan must reach 'Niem Bach level'." I didn't say anything. "To Niem, do you understand?" Dao Vi stared at me. "Your husband's project won the bid, eight out of ten out of ten because in their plan someone referred to the style of your old work." "Who made the plan?" "I don't know. But I can help you check." I accepted the apple she gave me, took a bite. It's sweet. "Don't look it up for now." "Why?" "I want to confirm one thing first." "What?" I opened a new laptop, entered each password one by one. The behind-the-scenes of the "Nien Bach factory" hadn't been touched in three years, yet in the mailbox there were more than a thousand unread messages. Cooperation invitations, media interviews, industry forum invitations, university talks... They all sank to the bottom of the sea. "I want to confirm..." I closed the computer and looked at Dao Vi. "Did Chu Han ever touch anything in my workshop?" Dao Vi's expression changed. "What do you mean..."