Chapter 15 — I Never Made It to Nam Thanh With You

I sent a message to Sister Vuong, asking her to temporarily halt the printing of the promotional brochures. She sounded deeply troubled as she replied that a significant batch had already been finished. When I mentioned the managing director, she hesitated, but I told her firmly that I would handle the matter with her myself. I did not engage in any heated arguments within the group chat, nor did I pen a lengthy, defensive manifesto. Tong Uyen Ninh was clearly trying to cast herself as the fragile victim, while Co Nghien Le wanted me to step forward and perform a public cleanup, washing away the scandalous rumors clinging to them. But why should I? They were the ones who sowed the seeds of this turmoil; they must be the ones to reap the harvest. I logged out of the class group and powered off my phone. I printed out the promotional materials myself and tucked them away in a folder alongside my original exam papers—not to use as ammunition for a trivial quarrel, but as a silent insurance policy. If anyone ever dared to label me irrational or troublesome in the future, I would finally have the evidence to expose exactly how they had systematically erased me from the narrative, piece by piece.

Half an hour later, Co Nghien Le arrived. He stormed into the house, his face etched with a frigid, stony expression. My father had not yet returned from work, leaving me alone to face him.

"Why did you leave the group?" he demanded.

"I didn't feel like seeing those messages anymore," I replied coldly.

"Uyen Ninh’s post didn't even mention your name," he countered.

"The people in the group had already connected the dots themselves."

"That is merely their own wild speculation."

He threw his phone down in front of me. On the screen was a message from Tong Uyen Ninh to him: "Nghien Le, have I caused trouble for Kien Nguyet again? Perhaps I should just delete the post. But I truly feel so aggrieved." Co Nghien Le’s expression softened instantly, betraying his deep sympathy for her. "She is already planning to take it down," he told me. "Just go into the group and leave a brief explanation. Say that the summer camp was granted based on merit, and that the engagement is merely an arrangement by our parents—not something you used to trap me. If you clarify that, no one will misunderstand her anymore."

I looked him straight in the eyes. "Why must I be the one to explain?"

"Because the whole situation started with you," he insisted.

"She was the one who wrote the post."

"She didn't name you, did she?"

"She mentioned the summer camp, the ancestral home, the engagement, and a wealthy father. Is there anyone else in this entire school who fits all those descriptors?"

Co Nghien Le fell silent for a moment. "She is just emotionally unstable right now," he muttered. "Once she calms down, I will speak with her. For now, just smooth this over."

I let out a derisive laugh. "Co Nghien Le, do you truly believe that whenever Tong Uyen Ninh feels sad, everyone else is obligated to rush in and clean up her mess?"

"I never said that," he retorted.

"But that is always how you behave."

Impatience began to flicker between his brows. "Now is not the time to keep score. The anniversary banquet is coming up. Both our families are deep in preparations; the more you stir the pot now, the harder it will be to settle things later."

"So, you want me to admit that I am the one using this engagement to control you?"

"I am not telling you to say that."

"Then what, exactly, am I supposed to say?"

He was momentarily speechless. He couldn't answer because what he truly desired was for me to shoulder this vague, toxic stigma. He could not admit to his feelings for Tong Uyen Ninh, yet he could not bear for others to criticize her as an interloper in our engagement. The perfect solution was for me, the "fiancee," to voluntarily step into the light and vouch for their absolute purity. In my previous life, I had done exactly that. When Tong Uyen Ninh called him in the middle of the night and was seen by others, I explained it away as work. When she moved into his apartment, I told everyone I was the one who had consented to it. When he abandoned me on my birthday to take her to the hospital, I put on a smile and told everyone it didn't bother me in the least. I spent my entire life shielding them, and in the end, their love became a tragic, touching epic, while my own marriage was dismissed as a mere mistake that stood in their way.