Chapter 12 — I Wrote My Name In Jinghua

“Are you afraid?”

“What now?”

“Now I just see…”

“The things they owe are too much.”

“Just cry…”

“Can't pay it off.”

Mr. Co nodded.

“Remember this feeling.”

“I will become a doctor later…”

“You will also meet a lot of people crying.”

“Tears…”

“It is not the same as repentance.”

The day of sentencing— Kinh Hoa welcomed the first autumn rain. Chu Hoai Dan, Nghiem Tung and others involved were sentenced one after another. Chu Thien Thien for participating in forging documents, instigating bullying and destroying martyrs' relics should be handled according to the law. Luong Mai lost her status as a teacher. Cao Yen and others must also bear corresponding responsibility. Trieu Duc Hai received an official document amending his daughter's profile in the past. He held that piece of paper and squatted in front of the court gate for a long time. He said hoarsely:

“Nem Niem…”

“Dad finally fixed it for me.”

I stood in the rain. The umbrella was blown to one side by the wind. Diep Tri Thu pulled the umbrella towards me.

“Do you really want to be a doctor in the future?”

“Having gone through so many things…”

“I thought you were going to study law.”

I laughed.

“The law already has people studying it.”

“My mother's pen…”

“Still waiting for me to write the medical record.”

Diep Tri Thu snorted.

“Then I'll study law.”

“Who will bully you in the future…”

“I'll sue them to death on your behalf.”

My aunt stood next to me and interjected:

“You two, let's eat properly first…”

“More than anything.”

Afterwards, Kinh Hoa organized a belated welcome party for me. Unobtrusive. Just a small session in the academy hall. The vice principal handed me the new admission notice. The inside pages are clean and pristine. There's only my name. I brought the old iron box onto the stage. Inside are two recovered letters from home. The remaining piece of paper with six words from my brother. The fountain pen Mr. Co gave me. With Trieu Duc Hai's daughter's little rabbit. I looked down at the stands.

“I can't go this far…”

“Thanks to one person's pity.”

“But thanks to each piece of evidence, it was finally seen.”

“Thanks to each person…”

“Still want to tell the truth.”

Chung Ninh sat in the front row, whispering to his friend next to him:

“Speaking is fine.”

Diep Tri Thu immediately continued:

“Whatever?”

“Those are my sisters.”

In the hall, someone laughed. I no longer find that laughter shrill. A few years later. I was on duty alone for the first time. The emergency room brought in a traffic accident patient. Lost a lot of blood. Family members stood outside the door crying to the point of not being able to stand. The instructor looked at me.

“Doctor Giang.”

“You decided to go.”

I bowed my head and looked at the patient. Look at the data on the tracker. Thanh Nguyen's stadium no longer comes to mind. Chu Thien Thien's face is no longer there. Only the sentence my mother wrote in the letter remains.

“You have to see people first.”

When it was finished— It was almost dawn. My family held my hand tightly and said thank you. I saw blood on her sleeve. Like the juice on my apron that year. Just like the blood stains on Dad's letter that can't be wiped clean. After work— I went to the small store in front of the hospital to buy three oranges. Mr. Co is now very old. Nursing in the hospital room. Seeing me bring oranges, he smiled and said I still didn't know how to choose.

“The crust is too thick.”

I peeled an orange segment and gave it to him.

“Last batch in line of Nghiem Tung... has also received the revised document."

"Uncle Trieu Duc Hai opened a student support point and named it after his daughter."

“Diep Tri Thu also passed the judicial exam.”

“Zhong Ninh entered the surgical department.”

Mr. Co slowly nodded. I smiled slightly.

“I'm still learning.”

“Every day I feel like I'm not good enough.”

He looked out the window.

“I still feel like I'm not enough…”

“Only then can we continue to move forward.”

Leaving the hospital room, I received an email. Jinghua University of Medicine invited me to share with new students.

“How to Face Injustice.”

I answered in four words.

“Can participate.”

That night, I opened the old iron box. Look again at the six words my brother left behind.

“Kien Nguyet, just move forward.”

The day of the sharing session— The hall was full. I don't tell inspirational stories. Nor does it turn suffering into a beautiful gift. I placed on the screen a notice of admission to nursing college. Then put it next to it— Kinh Hoa's new admission notice.

“Between these two pieces of paper…”

“It's not fate.”

“But someone broke the law.”

“Some people are silent.”

“There are also people who stand up.”

Below, a student asked me:

“Senior sister…”

“If there had been no livestream that year, there would have been no Mr. Co…”

“What will you do?”