Chapter 8 — I Don't Need Your Late-Found Affection

The social welfare institution reposted the updates. The public sentiment in the comments section had completely inverted. Some people were apologizing to me, while others were condemning the Tan family for their utter lack of shame. Others still sent over vast quantities of books and milk for the welfare home. Director Fang messaged me:

"Van Tri, the institution received thirty crates of strawberry milk today."

I replied:

"That is wonderful. The children enjoy drinking it."

Director Fang messaged again:

"And what about you?"

I stared at my phone for a long time before typing:

"I am doing just fine, too."

The eight hundred thousand was officially deposited into my account. I did not feel overly agitated. When the bank clerk showed me the balance on the screen, her hands were trembling more than mine.

"Miss Lam, all the funds have been successfully transferred to your account."

I nodded.

"Thank you."

She lowered her voice and added, "Congratulations on your admission to Beijing University."

I had heard that phrase many times, yet this was the first moment it finally felt real. After stepping out of the bank, I performed three tasks. The first was to transfer two hundred thousand back to the welfare institution. Director Fang called me immediately.

"Lam Van Tri, have you lost your mind? Don't you need money for university?"

"I do."

"Then why are you sending over such a large amount?"

"Building number three at the institution has a leak in the roof."

"That is not a concern for a child like you to manage!"

I stood outside the bank, watching the tide of passersby.

"Director, I am twenty years old now."

"Besides, I lived in building number three once."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Director Fang’s voice grew thick and raspy.

"You child..."

"Please do not scold me, Director."

"I am not scolding you."

"Every time you want to cry, you always scold me first."

Director Fang sniffled.

"You rotten girl."

I chuckled. The second task was to visit the shopping mall to buy a laptop. Throughout my three years of high school, I had used an outdated computer discarded by the welfare home; it took five minutes to boot, ten minutes to run a program, and the fan whirred like a tractor. The clerk asked me:

"Young student, what is your budget?"

I replied:

"As long as it is sufficient for my needs."

He introduced several models to me. Unlike before, I did not open a calculator to weigh every cent. I simply swiped my card. The moment the transaction went through, I looked at the receipt and felt a slight daze. It turned out that the achievements I earned myself could truly be exchanged for tangible things.

The third task was to return to the welfare institution. As soon as I stepped through the gate, all the children on the playground rushed toward me.

"The valedictorian sister!"

"You were on television!"

"Sister, have the bad people been caught yet?"

A six-year-old girl hugged my leg and looked up to ask:

"Sister, now that your parents have returned, are you happy?"

I squatted down. Her eyes were incredibly clear—so clear that they reminded me of myself at that age. I ruffled her hair.

"I was not happy at first."

"And now?"

"Now, I finally know who my true family is."

The little girl looked puzzled.

"What is family?"

I thought for a moment.

"Family is when you have a fever at night, and someone is there to check your temperature."

"When you achieve a good result, someone is there to boil eggs for you."

"When you are being bullied, someone stands in front of you to shield you."

She nodded solemnly.

"Then Director Fang is family."

I smiled.

"That is correct."

Later, the legal case against the Tan family was processed through official channels. Tan The Hai and Lieu Phuong Cam were sentenced for document forgery, attempted fraud, defamation, and harassment. The sentences were not severe, but they were sufficient to ensure they could no longer stage their "twenty years lost" performance. Tan Dieu Tong, having participated in the submission of fraudulent documents, also received administrative penalties. Some time after, Kieu Nhan messaged me once.

"I have been admitted to graduate school."

I replied:

"Congratulations."

She said, "Thank you for helping me see the truth that day."

I did not reply further. Everyone has their own path to walk. Whether one can truly step forward after seeing the truth depends entirely on oneself. On the day of my departure for school, Director Fang took me to the train station. He had claimed to be very busy, yet he arrived two hours early, carrying a cloth bag. Inside were tea-boiled eggs, dried beef, adhesive bandages, cold medicine, and a thin jacket. I said:

"Director, Beijing is not a deserted island."

He replied:

"I know."

"Then why did you pack so much?"

"My hands were just restless."

I laughed. Before I went through the ticket gate, he suddenly called out to me.

"Van Tri."

"Yes?"

He handed me a small red booklet. It was the cover of my admission letter. Tucked inside was an old photograph. In the image, I was ten years old, standing before the gate of the welfare institution, holding up a math competition certificate. Behind me, Director Fang was grinning foolishly.

"Take this photo with you."

I stared at it for a long time.

"When did you take this?"

"Aunt Truong took it. That day, you insisted you hadn't done well on the test, but you ended up winning first place."

My eyes grew hot. Director Fang turned his head away.

"Alright, hurry inside. Send me a message when you arrive. Do not skimp on your meals, do not stay up late, and do not be too distant from your classmates. When people treat you well, do not always live in fear."

I nodded.

"I know."

He added, "If the Tan family tries to find you in the future..."

"I will call the police."

Director Fang laughed.

"You have grown quite capable."

I pulled my suitcase and walked into the station.