Chapter 16 — I Shall Never Set Foot in Nam Thanh Again

I told them that I had things I wanted to do as well, but those private words of mine never held any weight. They would listen, nod along, and offer me empty reassurances, only to turn their backs and continue exactly as before. It was only later that I realized: it was never about their fear of hurting me. What they truly feared was that I might expose those festering wounds for others to see.

I said, "Aunt Chu, with so many relatives coming tomorrow, we should take the opportunity to clear the air once and for all. It will save everyone from misunderstanding later on."

Aunt Chu’s face drained of all color. She began to try to persuade me further, but my father stepped out of the study.

"Minh Lam, the girl has already made up her mind."

Aunt Chu looked at my father, her tone dripping with reproach. "Chinh Hoa, are you really going to let her act so recklessly?"

My father responded calmly, "She is not being reckless."

"Our two families have been close for so many years," she insisted. "Must you really take things this far?"

My father fixed his gaze upon her. "A long-standing friendship does not mean that my daughter must sacrifice her life to live out the life of your son."

Aunt Chu choked on her words. She could never have anticipated that my father would be so blunt. For years, he had been a man of immense patience. When Tan Tu Bach was injured, he helped. When the training data for Tan Tu Bach was a mess, he helped. Whatever the Tan family needed, if he could provide it, he did. A man who is usually so easygoing is at his most disarming when he finally decides to be sharp.

When Aunt Chu left, she even forgot to take the box containing the jade heirloom. She left it sitting on the coffee table as if she were absolutely certain that I would accept it tomorrow. I opened the box, took a fleeting glance at the contents, and snapped it shut. Whether I accepted it or not, they would find out soon enough.

The celebration for the university entrance exam was held at Cam Hoa Hall in the city center. The Tan family had booked the largest private room, and relatives from both sides had gathered in droves. Even Tan Tu Bach’s coaches, his training camp teammates, and several school teachers were in attendance. The scale of the event was even greater than in my previous life. Back then, Aunt Chu only wanted to inform our relatives of the special bond between me and Tan Tu Bach. Now, she was likely afraid I would bolt, so she invited everyone she could, hoping to use social pressure and personal sentiment to force my hand.

When my father and I arrived, Tan Tu Bach was already seated at the head table. His right leg was encased in a stabilizing brace, and he did not look well. Manh Tri Ha sat in a dim corner near the entrance, her eyes red-rimmed. Upon seeing me, she instinctively bowed her head, acting as if she had suffered some monumental injustice.

Tan Tu Bach raised his eyes to look at me. His gaze locked onto the jade heirloom box in my hand, and his expression softened. He must have assumed that by bringing the jade, I had finally succumbed to their expectations.

Aunt Chu hurried over, all smiles, to welcome us. "Thanh Chi is here! Come, sit down, go sit right next to Tu Bach."

I did not move. "That won't be necessary. I will sit next to my father."

Aunt Chu’s smile stiffened. The relatives nearby began to whisper and look our way. Someone chimed in with a teasing tone.

"Thanh Chi is still shy," they laughed.

"She is grown up now, but remember how she used to trail behind Tu Bach like a little shadow when they were children?"

"That’s right. Once they head to Nam Thanh, having Thanh Chi there to look after Tu Bach will give you such peace of mind, Minh Lam."

Tan Tu Bach called out to me in a low voice. "Thanh Chi."

His tone was slightly softer than it had been days prior. Perhaps it was because of his injury, or perhaps he had finally realized that he still required my father’s resources. "Come over here and sit."

I looked at him. The brace on his right leg was adjusted perfectly, clearly a result of strict medical adherence. However, the glimmer of smug triumph in the depths of his eyes still repulsed me. He thought I would pity him. He thought I would bow to the pressure of the crowd.

I ignored him entirely, pulled out a chair, and sat down next to my father. The atmosphere in the room dimmed instantly. Aunt Chu hurriedly signaled the staff to begin serving the meal. As the dishes were brought out one by one, the room filled with chatter about the bright future of Tan Tu Bach.