Chapter 7 — I Won't Wait for You to Return

As a form of compensation, the company will transfer two million yuan to you in a single payment. However, should you violate this agreement, the penalty will be ten million yuan.

Hearing the figure she tossed out, I could not help but let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

Two million yuan to purchase seven years of my youth? It seems the supposedly deep, devoted persona of your precious movie star, Co Trach Vu, is unexpectedly cheap.

Tan Tranh Tranh, do not mistake my offer for a request. If you insist on refusing the toast, you will only be forced to drink the forfeit.

The manager’s voice turned icy. You are just an ordinary person without any backing. Do you really think you can stand up against capital? Mr. Vu is only offering you this money out of past sentiments. Otherwise, we have hundreds of ways to ensure you are permanently blacklisted from every social media platform.

Is that so?

I leaned against the second-floor railing, looking down at the courtyard below, where Ha Nhan was loudly arguing with someone on her phone.

Then by all means, keep trying.

I cut the call abruptly. Below, Ha Nhan was holding her phone, unleashing a torrent of words:

Sir, I respect you as the head of the department, and I know you are here to perform some psychological management, but I simply cannot stomach what you are saying. What do you mean that if I post these truths, it will jeopardize Chu Dien’s application for the youth research grant? I am only stating facts. How does that ruin him?

The voice on the other end was smooth, even carrying the weary sigh of an elder, but every syllable was calculated to exert pressure.

Ha Nhan, Chu Dien is a brilliant seed in the field of scientific research. It is not easy to cultivate a doctoral candidate. The department does not want to see such an outstanding student dragged into the mud simply because of petty, private affairs. These interpersonal conflicts between you young people should be settled privately. Do not blow things out of proportion to the point where you destroy someone else’s future. You are an educated person; you should understand the bigger picture.

Ha Nhan was trembling with rage.

I should understand the bigger picture? For the sake of his bigger picture, I have not dared to post a single photo of us together on social media for the past eight years! I am ruining his prospects? Or is he the one who has squandered eight years of my youth?

She paused for a heartbeat, her voice turning biting and cold.

Sir, if a man cannot even maintain the most basic honesty in an intimate relationship—if he can so easily slander and sacrifice the person who has stood by his side for eight years—do you honestly believe he will remain ethically sound once he enters a high-level research project?

There was a long silence on the other end. Ha Nhan did not wait for him to resume his sermon; she pressed the end call button with finality. Two men, two different powers, had sent us ultimatums at almost the exact same time. They believed that by wielding authority and dangling futures before us, they could crush our resolve. In the past, we were truly afraid. We were terrified of damaging Co Trach Vu’s stardom, afraid of sabotaging Chu Dien’s thesis defense. We lived like shadows, never allowed to step into the light, meticulously guarding their halos.

But now, looking up at the clear, star-studded sky of Dai Ly, I suddenly found it all so meaningless. It was not us who ruined them. It was they who destroyed us first.

Ha Nhan brought two bottles of beer up to the terrace and handed one to me. Shall we sign? She bit the metal cap off with her teeth and spat it onto the floor.

Sign my foot.

I tapped my bottle lightly against the railing and tilted my head back, taking a long, defiant swallow.

Then what are we waiting for?

Ha Nhan unlocked her phone. I have had enough of the condescending, high-handed attitude of these bastards.

We did not post long-winded manifestos or launch into hysterical rants. I opened my photo album and selected a single image. In the photograph, a worn, gray wool scarf lay quietly on a wooden table. Ha Nhan chose her own picture: an old, dented blue thermos, its paint peeling at the edges.