Chapter 1 — I Shall Never Set Foot in Nam Thanh Again

The first thing I did after being reborn was to delete the Nam Thanh University application from my university enrollment system. Tan Tu Bach was set to attend the Nam Thanh Sports Institute. As for me, I switched my preference to the Kinh Thi University of Foreign Studies in the north. One heading south, one heading north. More than 1,700 kilometers of separation. It was perfect.

Before I finalized my choices, Tan Tu Bach messaged me: "I just finished training, and my wrists are a bit sore. Could you do me a favor and double-check my supplementary documents for the Sports Institute? Don’t let any errors slip through."

In my previous life, I had spent my entire existence performing these "favors." I filled out his applications. I organized his training logs. I contacted his physical therapists. I stabilized his fluctuating emotions. I pulled him back from the depths of despair time and time again. Yet, in the end, when he stood on the podium to receive his award, the person he thanked was Man Tri Ha. He said, "Thank you, Tri Ha, for accompanying me through my most difficult times."

And what about me? I was in a cramped, rented room in Nam Thanh, clutching a pile of translation documents until three in the morning. Listening to his acceptance speech on television, I laughed until tears streamed down my face. Only then did I understand: for some people, even if you pave the way for them for ten years, they will only resent you because you cast a shadow over their spotlight.

In this life, I would not pave the way. Nor would I keep him company.

I stared at the words "Kinh Thi University of Foreign Studies" on the screen and pressed confirm. The system displayed the notification: "Application successfully submitted." My entire body went limp. It felt as though I had finally crawled out of a long, suffocating nightmare.

My phone vibrated again. Tan Tu Bach saw that I hadn't replied and called me directly. I stared at the name dancing on the screen. In my previous life, I was always terrified of missing his calls. Whether he was injured in training, lost a match, argued with a coach, or held a grudge against Man Tri Ha, every time he called my name, I would drop everything to run to his side. But this time, I waited until the very last second before answering.

Tan Tu Bach’s voice sounded impatient. "Why did it take you so long to pick up?"

"I was finishing my enrollment application."

He let out a visible sigh of relief. "As long as that's done. Remember to look over my supplementary documents for the Nam Thanh Sports Institute; the coach said it's best to send them tonight."

I asked in a flat tone, "Why should I be the one looking over your documents?"

There was a brief silence on the other end. Tan Tu Bach sounded baffled. "What?"

"I said," I snapped my laptop shut, "why should I be the one looking over your documents?"

Tan Tu Bach remained silent for a few seconds. When he finally spoke, his voice had dropped in pitch. "Nguyen Thanh Chi, what is wrong with you again?"

Listen to that. I was merely returning his life to him, and already he found my behavior abnormal. I replied, "Nothing is wrong. You are eighteen years old; check your own documents."

Tan Tu Bach let out a soft laugh, tinged with helplessness. "Are you still angry about this afternoon?"

This afternoon? I thought for a moment before remembering. Earlier today, Man Tri Ha had fallen in the training room. Tan Tu Bach had carried her to the infirmary. In my previous life, upon learning this, I had cried and questioned why he couldn't keep his distance. He had retorted that Man Tri Ha was just a candidate for the team assistant position and it was pitiful that no one cared for her injured knee. The more I made a scene, the more he viewed me as unreasonable and irrational. That night, I still checked all his documents for him. Fearing I might disturb his sleep, I didn't even dare to voice my grievances.

How foolish I had been. I lowered my eyes to the cold glass of milk on my desk. "I'm not angry."

Tan Tu Bach didn't believe me. "Thanh Chi, Tri Ha is not like you. Her family situation is difficult, and it wasn't easy for her to get into the training camp. I was just doing her a small favor."

There it was again—the "small favor." In my previous life, I hated those words more than anything. He did small favors for others, and I had to pay the price. He felt pity for others, and I had to swallow my tears in silence.

I said, "Then do yourself a favor and check your own documents."

I hung up. Tan Tu Bach called back immediately. I didn't answer. He sent a text: "Nguyen Thanh Chi, stop acting out."

"My mother is coming to your house tomorrow to discuss the celebration party for our university acceptance. You're making things very difficult for me."

"Didn't you once say you would come to Nam Thanh with me?"

I stared at the last line. My fingers froze for a long time. In my previous life, I had indeed said that. Back then, when Tan Tu Bach received his acceptance letter, he was so excited he didn't sleep all night. He sat on my balcony, his eyes burning with ambition. He had said, "Thanh Chi, I must go to Nam Thanh." I asked him, "What about me?" He replied, "Of course you're coming with me."

My heart had raced. I thought it was a promise. Only later did I realize it wasn't a promise at all; it was an arrangement. He went to Nam Thanh to pursue his dream. I went to Nam Thanh to serve him. When he was injured, I helped him with rehabilitation. When he was anxious, I stayed awake with him all night. When rumors circulated about him and Man Tri Ha, I explained things to both our families. He became the rising star of the provincial team. I became the shadow behind him, growing more silent with each passing day.

Later, he and Man Tri Ha were interviewed together. A reporter asked him who he wanted to thank the most. He looked at Man Tri Ha beside him, smiling so tenderly. "Thank you to the one who was willing to run the final lap with me when I was at my most desperate."

I sat in the stands, still holding the knee brace he had forgotten. At that moment, I realized my entire life was even more laughable than that knee brace. At least when the brace got old, he replaced it with a new one. As for me, once I was "old," he didn't even bother to spare me a glance.

The phone screen went dark. I did not reply to Tan Tu Bach. A few minutes later, a half-familiar profile picture popped up with a message. It was Man Tri Ha. She sent a photo. In it, Tan Tu Bach was squatting on the gym floor, leaning over to apply kinesiology tape to her knee. His fingers pressed against the edge of her calf with such gentle care, as if he were afraid of causing her pain.

Attached to the photo was a note: "Sister Thanh Chi, please don't misunderstand. Brother Tu Bach just thinks I've been working too hard in training."

I stared at the photo. If this were my former self, I would certainly be shaking with rage. I would have rushed to the gym to get into a fight with Man Tri Ha. Tan Tu Bach would have dragged me out in front of the entire team. He would have asked, "Can you not embarrass me like this?" He would have said, "Tri Ha has already suffered enough, why must you target her?" He would have said, "She and I are clean; it is your heart that is dirty, so that is all you see."

After that day, everyone in the training camp knew that I was just a girl who used the title of "childhood friend" to act out. I deleted the message, blocked the contact, and set my phone aside. Finally, there was peace.