Chapter 2 — I Won't Wait for You to Return

They struck first, issuing a formal correction that severed all ties, while branding us as clout-chasers and emotionally unstable liabilities to pin us firmly to the pillar of shame. But they had no idea that we had booked red-eye flights that very night, and were already a thousand kilometers away in Dali.

Is this pork roasted enough, do you think?

Ha Nhan picked up a knife, sliced a piece of crispy skin from the edge, and popped it into her mouth, chewing with a satisfying crunch.

Crispy on the outside, tender on the inside. Youve got the heat just right, the local guy gave a thumbs-up, praising the technique.

I switched my phone to silent and tucked it back into my apron pocket. Ha Nhan plated the carved meat and turned to look at me.

Should we eat first? Lets get a full meal in our bellies before we decide whether or not to send them packing to the afterlife.

I picked up my chopsticks and dipped a piece of meat into a bowl of chili sauce.

Agreed. No point in suffering on an empty stomach.

Two.

Do you still have those old photos of him wearing those tattered costumes?

By early afternoon, Ha Nhan and I were squatting by the backyard sink of the homestay, scrubbing the grill racks with steel wool. The sun in Dali was intense, casting a warm, comforting heat across our backs. I rinsed the soap bubbles from my hands and turned to look at her.

I do. They are saved on my old phone. Do you still have the receipts for the hospital bills from when Doctor Chu had that stomach ailment?

Ha Nhan let out a sharp laugh, flicking the water from her fingers.

I certainly do. I have all eight years worth, including the copies of his gastric endoscopy report. I kept them all.

The trending topics continued to ferment, and public opinion had tilted entirely in their favor. After finishing with the grill, we sat on the rattan chairs in the yard and idly opened Weibo. Gu Trach Vu’s fans had unearthed my old account from years ago. It contained a digital diary of the days we spent weathering storms and scorching suns on film sets. Though I never showed my face, there were countless behind-the-scenes photos. The comment sections had long since been overrun.

A nameless, nobody assistant trying to ride the coattails of our Brother Vu for clout?

Looking at the aesthetic of this profile, she probably followed the crew back in the day and developed a pathetic, one-sided crush, imagining herself as the sister-in-law, huh?

Brother Vu must have been blind to ever look her way. Our true sister-in-law is a highly educated beauty; what does someone like you think you are?

I scrolled through the screen, observing the venomous insults with a calm detachment. For seven years, to protect his career, I never dared to leave any clear trail on the internet. Now, that very restraint had become the evidence they used to attack me as a delusional stalker. Ha Nhan’s situation was no better. The colleagues and peers of Chu Dien were taking turns posting mocking status updates on their private feeds and university forums.

Some people serve others so much they start hallucinating, thinking that just because they ran a few errands for a senior, they are his girlfriend?

Our senior has always been single. He is naturally kind and caring toward everyone; some people just lack the self-awareness to know where the boundaries are.

Don't let this affect the senior’s performance review next month. This type of leech-like woman is truly terrifying.

Ha Nhan looked at those familiar avatars and laughed coldly, over and over.

The former landlord? The delivery woman? The sister who doesn't know where the boundaries are?

She read the labels from the forum aloud, so angry she burst into a mocking laugh.

When I was helping him format his thesis until four in the morning, these people were still snoring away in their dorms.

I handed her a bottle of mineral water.

Are you angry?

A little. She twisted the cap and took a sip. But mostly, I just feel nauseated.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Gu Trach Vu’s manager, the tone patronizing and dripping with feigned charity.

Ms. Tan, if you know what is good for you, stay quiet. This internet drama will blow over in a few days. Name your price, and we can negotiate.

Brother Vu is being merciful due to your history together. Don't be ungrateful.

Looking at those two lines of text, I found it all nothing short of laughable.