Chapter 23 — Guess, MVP Heiress Has Returned

A few weeks after the historic championship, Yen Chi's life gradually returned to a stable rhythm, although her fame has now reached much further than before. She became a sought-after face across the media, not only because of her excellent competition achievements, but also because of her inspirational story of daring to stand up against injustice, even when that injustice came from her own family members.

One Sunday afternoon, Luc Thanh Nam called, his voice was a bit more timid than usual. "Yen Chi, our family is having a dinner this weekend. Can... can you go home? Mom and dad want the whole family to sit down and talk, including Y Nhi, when she is temporarily released on bail awaiting trial."

Yen Chi was silent for a moment, considering. She no longer felt the intense avoidance or hurt like the first days after being reborn, but she also clearly understood that returning to sit and eat with her family as if everything had never happened was not what she wanted.

"I'll come back, Dad," she replied, "but I want to make it clear first, I'm not coming back to make things go back to the way they were before. I'm coming back because I still consider you and Mom to be family, but I need a family relationship based on mutual respect, not based on me always having to be the one to sacrifice."

"I understand," Luc Thanh Nam replied, his voice choked. "We've had a lot of time to think about our mistakes. We don't want you to go back to being a good child like before. We just hope to have a chance to correct ourselves, no matter how big or small."

The weekend meal took place in a somewhat awkward atmosphere but was no longer as heavy as previous meetings. Y Nhi sat at the corner of the table, her face was noticeably thinner, her eyes no longer had the look of calculation or fake self-pity, leaving only the fatigue and quietness of a person facing the real consequences of wrong choices.

"Sister," Y Nhi spoke first, her voice soft, "I know my apology cannot erase what I have done. But I really thank you for not pushing me to the end, even though you could have done so."

"I don't want to push you into a dead end," Yen Chi replied, her voice calm. "I just want the truth to be made clear. What happened to you next is a consequence of your own choices, not of my malice."

Hoang Thi Nga, sitting nearby, couldn't hold back her tears. "I've been thinking a lot these past few days," she said, her voice shaking. "I realized, I was wrong right from the way I raised both of you. I thought protecting Y Nhi was loving her, but it turned out I was just depriving her of the opportunity to stand on her own two feet. And I thought Yen Chi was strong so she didn't need protection, but I left you to suffer so much injustice without even knowing it."

Yen Chi looked at her mother, feeling a sincere emotion in those words, but she also understood that awareness is one thing, but real change is a much longer journey.

"Thank you mom for saying that," Yen Chi replied. "But I think, instead of trying to fix everything right away, maybe it's more important for parents to learn how to let me and Y Nhi build our own lives, the way each person thinks is right, instead of continuing to interfere or impose any patterns."

After the meal, Luc Thanh Nam sent Yen Chi to the gate and stood silently for a moment before speaking. "Are you planning on... moving closer to home, after all this?"

Yen Chi shook her head slightly. "No, dad. I will continue to live in the team dormitory, continue my playing career. I think enough distance will be good for our whole family, at least at this stage. I will still call, I will still visit my parents, but I need to keep an independent space for myself, so as not to fall into old patterns."

Luc Thanh Nam nodded, although his eyes could not hide his regret. "I understand. I will respect your decision."

On the way back to the dormitory, Yen Chi sat in the taxi, looking out the window, familiar streets passing by in the sunset. She felt a strange peace in her heart — not the peace of someone who has completely forgiven and forgotten all hurt, but the peace of someone who has learned to set healthy boundaries, who has learned that intimacy does not have to come with endless sacrifices.

She thought about the days ahead — an expanding competitive career with countless new opportunities, a blossoming relationship with Bach Khang, and a family slowly learning to rebuild trust on a more equitable foundation. Not everything is perfect, not all wounds have healed, but for the first time in two lifetimes, Yen Chi feels like she is truly living her own life, the way she chooses.

Returning to the dormitory, she saw Bach Khang waiting in the lobby, holding two boxes of snacks she bought on the street. "How was the family meal?" he asked, handing her a box.

"It's okay," Yen Chi replied, sitting on the bench next to him. "It's not perfect, but at least people have started talking honestly to each other, instead of avoiding it or pretending like nothing happened."

"That's already a big step," Bach Khang said, his eyes looking at her full of understanding. "Not every family is brave enough to face their own mistakes."

Yen Chi nodded, was silent for a moment, then asked, her voice somewhat curious. "Do you think I should maintain regular contact with my family, after all that's happened?"

"I think it's completely up to you," Bach Khang replied, "and you don't need to rush to decide right now. Intimacy doesn't mean being completely close or completely distant, but finding a distance that makes both parties feel respected and safe."

"You're right," Yen Chi smiled, feeling relieved to be able to share her messy thoughts with someone who always listened without judgment.

In the following days, Yen Chi began to receive many new collaboration invitations — from prestigious esports brands wanting her to be their representative, to offers to participate in reality TV shows about esports to inspire the younger generation of players. She carefully chooses, does not rush to accept any offer, but takes time to carefully consider what truly fits her values and long-term goals, instead of running after every opportunity just for fear of missing out.

She also spends time providing additional guidance to young players in the team's training academy, sharing experiences not only in technical skills but also in how to build healthy boundaries in relationships, both inside and outside of the competitive environment. Many young players, especially girls who carry the same burden of family expectations as she experienced, come to her for advice, and Yen Chi always takes the time to listen and share as sincerely as possible.

"You're becoming a truly inspirational role model," Trinh Gia Linh commented one evening, when he saw Yen Chi sitting and chatting for a long time with a young player who had just joined the team. "Not just because of his talent, but because of the way he faced adversity."

"I'm just doing what I wish someone had done for me, a long time ago," Yen Chi replied, her eyes distant for a moment before returning to the familiar warmth.

One weekend evening, while sitting alone reviewing the schedule of upcoming activities, Yen Chi realized that she no longer felt as heavy every time she thought of the word "family" as in the first weeks after being reborn. She still keeps in regular contact with her parents, occasionally visiting on weekends, but always keeps a clear boundary: not letting anyone, even her closest loved one, have the right to decide for her the things about her personal life.

She opened her phone and reviewed some of her mother's messages sent during the week. The messages were no longer imposing or blaming like before, but simply sincere greetings, sometimes accompanied by a photo of the dish her mother had just cooked. That small change, although not perfect, still warmed her heart. She typed out a few lines of response, then closed her laptop, preparing for a new day of practice, with a heart lighter than at any time since the day she opened her eyes and woke up in her second life, ready to accept whatever lies ahead, with her own steady feet.