Chapter 7 — From Today I Only Speak the Truth

"If you have to manage something, then manage it yourself." "The money you owe us, if you want to pay it, pay it. If you don't want to pay, I won't chase after you." Luong Uyen Ninh stared at the notebook. "Do you want to break off relations with me?" Dad put the notebook on the door step. "Friendship is not in words." "It must be in the heart." "If you don't have it in your heart, then stop pretending." At that moment, someone from the village came running and called: "Uyen." Ninh, your family's old house leaked, the western wall has collapsed!” Luong Uyen Ninh instinctively looked towards my father. In the past, whenever her old house leaked, my father was always the first person to bring the ladder. This time, Dad turned around and went into the house, hanging bunches of garlic in front of the door on the crossbar. Luong Uyen Ninh's face was pale. She pulled her suitcase and went out. The wheel got stuck in the mud, making a harsh sound. No one stepped forward to help her. 10. After breaking off the relationship, life does not immediately become easier. My mother's hand still hurts. My father's land still needs to be cultivated. Garlic prices are still high and low, and God does not care a little more because my family has suffered unjustly. But some things are different from before. My father no longer arbitrarily went up the hill behind the village to chop tree branches. He and Khau village chief cleaned up the land next to the abandoned lime kiln in the village, turning it into a gathering place for agricultural tools. Any house that needs wooden sticks or old bamboo trees must register in advance. If you can use discarded materials, you cannot take things from the mountain. The forestry station came to inspect and even gave a few compliments. As for the school, I have turned the entire situation over to the academic advisor. After that, no one in class mentioned compensation anymore. The people who previously sent private messages scolding me changed their profile picture and sent a sentence: "Sorry, I misunderstood you." I didn't reply. Not every misunderstanding deserves forgiveness. Liang Wanning starts paying in winter. The first amount is three hundred yuan. The content of the transfer reads: Refund the family's expenses that have been advanced. The second amount is five hundred yuan. The third payment took a long time to be transferred, only one hundred and eighty yuan. Hearing that she went to work at a printing shop in the district, Hua Nghien broke up with her a long time ago. She didn't know how to plant the two acres of land left by her parents. They were initially abandoned. Then she returned on her own, wearing weeding gloves, her hands blistered. Someone in the village couldn't bear it and wanted to call my father to help. My mother immediately stopped me. "We raised him for seven years." "It's not like we worked for him for free all his life." One time, Luong Uyen Ninh cut her hand in the field. She stood on the edge of the field, saw my father passing by, her mouth slightly opened. Dad took a package of bandages from his pocket and placed it on the rock. "Get it from the village health station." After saying that, he turned and left. Luong Uyen Ninh squatted in the field and cried for a long time. After knowing what happened, my mother was silent for a long time. "Your father is someone who cannot harden his heart to the end." Two years later, I graduated from university. The day I returned to the village, the garlic had just been harvested, and the yard was filled with the pungent smell of new garlic. Dad was drying garlic, mom was sitting in front of the door peeling the dry outer layer. A taxi stopped at the beginning of the alley. Luong Uyen Ninh walked down. She is much thinner than before, and her hair is no longer neatly taken care of. In her hand she held a parchment bag. She stood outside the door, not entering. "Eldest uncle, auntie." My mother raised her head to look at her. Luong Uyen Ninh placed a paper bag outside the door step. "I've paid it all." Inside was a stack of transfer history and a handwritten explanation. The amount of money she transferred in small amounts over the years, combined with today's additional amount, just matched the number in her mother's book.

I. Dad picked it up and looked at it. After reading it, he went into the house and took out that year's notebook, drawing two lines on the last page. It means the debt has been paid. Luong Uyen Ninh's eyes turned red. "Eldest uncle, can you..." Dad closed the book, looked at her, his voice was not loud. "The money has been paid, the debt has been paid." "In the future, if you want to move up, don't continue to step on the person who raised you." The wind blew in from the yard, carrying with it the rustling sound of dried garlic leaves. The words Luong Uyen Ninh had not yet said were choked in her throat. She stood outside the door for a long time, and finally bowed deeply. As she turned to leave, the afternoon light lengthened her shadow. My mother looked at that back, her fingers curled slightly. She frowned in pain, but didn't call her anymore. In the yard, each new bed of garlic is spread out to dry. The trees on the hill behind the village were also moving in the wind. Lush branches and leaves. The road still stretches forward. Who should take which path has finally been clearly defined.