Chapter 3 — From the Ashes to the Pinnacle

Sixteen years of being confined to a wheelchair in my previous life only taught me one thing— The more I want something, the steadier my hands must be. 【Chapter 3】 At seven o'clock the next morning, Trieu Ngoc Phan went to the Civil Affairs Department to apply for benefits. Before leaving, she threw twenty yuan on the table: "At noon, go to the street to buy rice." She said "self". But his eyes looked at Lam Phong. I don't pay attention. After waiting for her to leave for ten minutes, I stood up and put on my shoes. Lam Phong is still sleeping. I left the layout point, walking towards the residential office. At this time of the morning, there is only one aunt on duty in the office. Mrs. Ho, over fifty years old, with small curly hair, very enthusiastic but quite talkative. "Oh my, I'm from Mr. Trieu's family..." "Tham Ve Duong." I said: "Aunt Ho, can I use the landline for a moment? I want to call my dad." Aunt Ho blinked: "My dad? Isn't your dad already..." "Divorced, not dead." Aunt Ho choked. Perhaps she had heard another version from Trieu Ngoc Phan's mouth. But a fourteen-year-old child standing in front of her said "I want to call dad", she couldn't find a reason to refuse. "So... then call." She pushed the landline phone on the table over. I picked up the receiver and dialed the number. I memorized that number all night, and it's even more familiar than the wheelchair repair phone number in my previous life. Tut—tut—tut— After three rings, someone picked up the phone. “Hello?” The man's voice was a bit hoarse, as if it had been permeated by the hot and humid climate in the South. The middle energy is full, the voice is steady. No longer looks like a builder. My throat suddenly closed up. I never made this phone call in my previous life. In my previous life, I didn't know that phone number. In my previous life, I thought he had abandoned me. "Hello? Who is it?" The other person asked again. I took a deep breath. "Dad." "It's me, Tham Ve Duong." The other end was silent for three seconds. Then—“What did you say?” His voice was trembling. “You… who do you say you are?” “Shen Wei Yang.” I repeated: “My son. This year is fourteen years old, with the spirit of a dog. When he was young, he had a scar on his left knee. When he was three years old, he fell down the steps, and dad carried you to the hospital.” The breathing on the other side was completely disordered. Heavy, urgent, accompanied by a trembling sound in the throat. I heard a “bang”—maybe he hit something. Then, the voice seemed to be forced out from between teeth: "Ve Duong... where are you? Why are you... I've been looking for you for three years... Mom, your mother..." "I know." I said: "She changed the address, changed the phone number." "But now I have found dad." "Dad, the house is on fire." "The house is no longer there." "I'm okay. I jumped out the window myself." Shen Wei Guo couldn't say a complete sentence. I heard him sniffing. A man over forty years old was crying on the other end of the phone. "Dad." I tightened my grip on the receiver. "Dad, come pick me up." "This time, dad, please come pick me up." Tham Ve Quoc's crying stopped for a moment. Then, he used an almost completely broken voice to say—“I'll be there soon.” “Wait there. What city are you in? Which street? Send me the address… No, I don't have your WeChat… I'll read the residential area's phone number for you…” “I'll wait for you!” “Don't go anywhere!” “I'm coming to pick you up!” I read the residential address and Aunt Ho's phone number to him. He repeated each word to remember, his voice still shaking. Before hanging up, he said one sentence—“Ve Duong.”“I'm sorry.”“Over the years, Dad…”“Dad is here. Dad will definitely come.”I hung up the phone. When the fingers left the stethoscope, the knuckles were white. I don't know how long Aunt Ho has been standing next to me. Her eyes were red and she held a handful of tissues in her hand. "This child..." She said softly, not continuing. I turned around: "Thank you, Aunt Ho." "Ah..." Aunt Ho called out: "Your father... when will he come?" "He is in Guangzhou." I said: "About tomorrow." Life memories

Let me know first—Shen Weiguo is doing construction materials wholesale business in Guangzhou, with more than ten people under his hands. They cannot be considered rich and noble, but in our fourth-class city, they are considered "people with money". In the bank card with my name on it is one million two hundred thousand yuan. To a fourteen year old child, what does one million two hundred thousand mean? Which means I can escape Trieu Ngoc Phan. That means I don't need to continue eating grandma's leftover rice and soup. Which means I got the first card. On the way back to the deployment point, I passed by an internet cafe. On the glass door is pasted the words "No minors allowed in". No problem. I don't need an internet cafe. What I need is a notebook. I spent two yuan to buy the cheapest notebook and ballpoint pen at the stationery store across the street. I sat on the steps in front of the layout point and opened the first page. Start writing. First line: Tham Weiguo—coming tomorrow. Take me away. Change custody rights. Second line: Alimony that Zhao Yufeng owes me—six years, 1,200 yuan per month, total 86,400 yuan. Plus proof that you left me alone in the fire. Third line: