Chapter 11 — Language is Wings

She turned sharply towards me.

“Lam Dao, are you satisfied?”

I looked at her, calmly.

"From beginning to end, you were causing trouble with me. I never took the initiative to touch you."

“Because your existence is already a provocation!” Her voice cracked, "You know eight languages, hidden for three years! You made my seven years... become a joke!"

Her eyes turned red. I didn't reply. She picked up her bag, pushed the door open and left. The door slammed shut, the sound was dry. There were only three people left in the room. Trinh Hao Nam looked at me.

"Lam Dao, your matter... I should have paid attention sooner. The company has suffered a loss for you."

“The past is over.”

"For your position as deputy head of department, the salary is adjusted to twenty-five thousand per year. In addition, the Dong Thinh project bonus is calculated separately."

He hesitated a bit.

"One more thing. Is Co Than Chau... trying to drag you away?"

“He mentioned it.”

“What do you think?”

“I'm still working in Trung Hoa.”

Trinh Hao Nam nodded, but his eyes were not relieved. He understood. Can't keep it. Not just him—the whole company understood. It's just... it's not the right time. News that To Uyen Tinh was dismissed spread throughout the company that afternoon. Outwardly, everyone was silent. But in the group chat—explosion.

“It should have happened a long time ago, how can you be the team leader with such qualifications?”

“I heard that her translations were always edited by Lam Dao…”

“What?”

"It's true. I've seen the proofreading file."

“Three years… how much has been fixed?”

“At least a hundred feet.”

If these words reach To Uyen Tinh's ears... it will probably be even more painful than the decision just now. But I don't care. At five o'clock in the afternoon, I was preparing to leave when a stranger appeared at the door. About forty years old, short hair, gray trench coat, neat and sharp temperament. She went straight into the translation room.

“Excuse me, who is Lam Dao?”

I raised my head. She gave me a business card.

"Hello, I am Qiu Xiaotong, producer of United States Media. We are preparing a transnational documentary project, and need a multilingual translation consultant."

“How did you find me?”

"The industry introduced her. Her two recent projects—Dong Thinh and the French brand—have begun to gain attention."

I looked at the business card. United States Communications. One of the leading manufacturing companies in the country.

“General Khuu, what project specifically?”

"A documentary about countries along the Silk Road. Needed simultaneous translation and editing of subtitles for five languages: Chinese, English, French, Arabic, Russian. We looked for three translation companies, none of whom could let one person handle the whole thing… until someone told me—in Zhonghe there was a girl who knew eight languages."

“Who told you?”

Khuu Hieu Dong smiled lightly.

"Co Than Chau. He is one of the investors of this project."

It's you again.

“How much is the consulting fee?”

"Twenty thousand a month. Estimated three months."

Sixty thousand. Equal to three years of my salary in Trung Hoa.

“General Khuu, I need to think more.”

"Of course. But I'll say it first—the project starts next month, filming in the Middle East and Europe. If you accept, you'll have to go on a business trip for about two months."

She left. I sat for a long time. Tieu Manh stopped by, his eyes shining.

“Who was that just now?”

"Producer. Wants to invite me to be an interpreter consultant for a documentary."

"How much?"

“Twenty thousand a month.”

Her mouth It opens roundly.

“Do… do you accept?”

“I don't know yet.”

"I don't know?! Twenty thousand a month! Even if I work in Trung Hoa all my life, I'm not sure I'll get it!"

“But if I go, who will handle the Dong Thinh project?”

“Co Than Chau is still bringing resources to you, why are you still worrying about Trung Hoa!”

I laughed softly. It's true... what am I worried about? At night, Nien Cao was waiting at the door. It screams louder than usual.

“I know, I'm hungry.”

I fed it, then sat by the window. Lawyer Chu's email came again. Attached is the asset table. Account in Zurich. Real estate in Munich. And… an apartment in the 16th district of Paris that he hadn't mentioned before. Total conversion value... nearly sixty million. I looked at that number for a long time. My parents... love language the most. Mom once said:

“Language is the most beautiful bridge.”

“When you understand a person's mother tongue, you will understand their heart.”

They carved the whole world into me. Then leave. As for me... I locked it all up myself. Each language is a memory. German—in Berlin, when my dad took me for ice cream in front of the Brandenburg Gate. French—in Paris, when mother read Maupassant on the banks of the Seine. Arabic—in Cairo, on the Nile boat, my father pointed out the stars and taught me how to count. Every sentence, every word... has them. Don't want to reopen those memories. Phone vibrates. Co Than Chau.

“Chief Qiu from the United States has already looked for you?”

"Okay. Why did you introduce me?"

“Because you need to step out.”

“You don't understand me.”

"I know your parents are diplomats. I know your past."

My hand tightened on the phone.

“You investigated me?”

"Before cooperating, I will get to know the other person. Lam Dao, your parents are very excellent people. You don't need to lock yourself away because you avoid their shadow."