Chapter 4 — Hundred Million in Exchange for Freedom

I bent down to sign. Turn the page. Sign. Flip again. Sign again. I signed very quickly, moving my pen quickly, afraid that he would change his mind. Tran Dien looked at my eager appearance and his face visibly darkened.

“To Duong, you can't have any…”

“A little what?” I didn't even look up, swiped my signature on the last page, dropped the pen, "It's done. Sign it."

He stared at me for a long time. That look carried anger, unwillingness, and a kind of violated dignity — He was angry because I didn't cry. Angry because I wasn't like the script he had written: tears streaming down my face, begging miserably, losing face and being ugly. He wanted to see me collapse, so he could carry the feeling of superiority, "Look, I just got rid of a crazy woman," and then turn around and hug Lam Tu Vien. What a pity. I disappointed him. His face was pale and he was holding a pen. The lawyer collects the documents and goes through the final stamping procedures. There were only two of us left in the meeting room. The atmosphere was quiet for about 10 seconds.

“To Duong.”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever thought, if you had treated me a little better before —”

I stood up, picked up my bag, and interrupted him: "Tran Dien, how long will it take for 100 million to arrive in my account?" His face was green. Really green. The physiological greenness of being provoked to the point of bursting blood vessels.

“Three working days.” He gritted his teeth and forced out a few words.

“Okay, it's hard for you.”

I turned around and walked out the door. At the door, I stopped and turned to look at him. He sat in a chair, his shoulders tense, his knuckles clenched until they turned white. I smiled: "Tran Dien, thank you. Really." He didn't say anything, but I saw his jaw twitch. I pushed the door open and walked out, my steps as light as walking on clouds. Standing on the steps outside the building, the sunlight shines on my face. The April wind brings warmth and blows my hair. I took a deep breath. The smell of freedom. The phone vibrated, a text message from Ha Lo: "Have you signed yet?" I texted back one word: "Sign." Ha Lo replied in a moment: "Hahahaha let's go to the party!!! I invite you! No, you have 100 million you have to invite!!!" I was about to answer when out of the corner of my eye I saw someone. The coffee shop is opposite the law office. Behind the transparent glass door, there is a woman sitting. Lam Tu Vien. She came too. Sitting there, holding a cup of coffee, across the street staring at the law office door. Watch me walk out. Obviously she was waiting for Tran Dien. I couldn't contain my excitement to receive the "victory results". Our eyes met across the street. She raised her chin slightly and looked at me. I'm all too familiar with that perspective — the perspective of winners scorning losers. The corner of the mouth carries a smile that seems like nothing, elegant, dignified, just enough to make people nauseous. The To Duong of the past would probably tremble with anger. But now — I raised my phone and waved it at her. Then bowed his head and typed a line, posting a WeChat status:

“Happyly closed a small target (100 million yuan), today is really sunny.”

Attached is a photo of the steps in front of the law office and the tip of my shoe. After posting, I raised my head. Lam Tu Vien's smile in the cafe opposite had stiffened. She saw it. Surely she saw it. She thought I was going to walk out crying. I thought I would be utterly miserable. As a result, I posted a status to celebrate. Already. Feeling numb. I waved at her, as if greeting an old friend. Then turned around, took a taxi and left. Through the rearview mirror, I saw Lam Tu Vien rushing out of the coffee shop, his high heels stepping on the sidewalk, almost twisting his leg. She was probably rushing to ask Tran Dien — "Is this motherfucker crazy?" Go away. Go and ask. His answer will definitely be more unique than you imagine. 【Chapter 4】 The day 100 million arrived in the account is Wednesday. At 9:07 am, the text message bell rang.