Chapter 10 — Late Table Lady

An's bank card was locked on Monday morning, without warning. She stood in front of the bus ticket vending machine, gave her card out of habit and then saw the screen display the words "Invalid transaction". The ticket seller looked at her waiting. An opened his wallet, only twenty thousand and a few coins left.

“Do you have cash?” he asked.

An counted again. “There are eighteen thousand.”

“Ten thousand tickets.”

"Yes."

An gave the money, got in the car, sat in the last row. She knew her father had locked the card. He once said the test would be more severe if she tried to circumvent it. But she didn't think he would do that right away when the project was lacking money to buy paint.

At school, she tried calling. Dad didn't listen. The message had only one sentence: "This week I will balance myself."

Mai saw her face and asked: "What's wrong?"

“I'm out of money.”

Huy immediately took his wallet. “I have forty-two thousand and an unused parking ticket.”

“I don't borrow.”

"I haven't made a loan yet. I'm disclosing the assets."

Khang didn't say anything, just put a piece of paper on the table. That is the afternoon duty schedule for the car repair shop, in addition to recording the wages for cleaning, sorting screws and delivering the car.

An looked at him. “Are you recruiting me?”

"I'm giving you a choice. You don't have to accept it."

“I can do it.”

"I know."

After class, An followed Khang back to the shop. She replaced her clean shoes with the plastic slippers her grandmother lent her. The first job is to clean the floor and sort screws by size. An made a mistake three times, causing Khang to add stickers shaped like a cat and a leaf.

“Which snail is this label for?” she asked.

“Snails were intuitively distinguished.”

“Where is my intuition?”

“Learning from the beginning.”

Grandma smiled and gave her a glass of lemonade. An cleans floors, stacks boxes, and writes down the list of vehicles that need to be delivered. Each little job took more time than she thought, but by the end of the session, the shop was neater and she received thirty thousand.

“Wage for one session?” An asked.

"YES."

“Too little.”

Khang looked at her. "You just worked four hours. If it's too little, do it faster tomorrow or negotiate again."

An keeps the money. At home, thirty thousand is only enough to buy a glass of water. Here, it is the price of sweat, floor dust and patience. She kept the money in a separate compartment in her wallet.

On the way home, An stopped at the market to buy eggs and vegetables. She charged slowly, asking the seller the price of each bundle. A little girl standing next to her looked at her and said: "Are you new to buying things?"

"YES."

“I know how to bargain.”

“Can you teach me?”

The two of them stood next to the vegetable stall. She showed An how to ask the price, how to choose a fresh bunch, and how not to buy too much because the room did not have a large refrigerator. An bought enough vegetables for two days, saving five thousand more than expected. She was so happy that she sent a text message to Mai: "I just bought vegetables without any mistakes."

Mai responded with the clapping hand emoji and the sentence: “Tomorrow you will be deified.”

In class, the project team lacks money to buy waterproof paint. An offered to work more at the shop to contribute to the fund, but Khang shook his head. “The project fund does not receive your private salary without agreement.”

"Why? That's the money I earn."

“Because people might feel like you're making up for things that aren't enough.”

An upset. “So what should I do with my money?”

"Use it for your needs. If you want to contribute, suggest like everyone else."

Huy raised his hand: "I propose selling lemonade at the school gate. I have experience mixing the ratio wrongly."

Like immediately writing a plan. Mai designed the price list, Khang asked for permission from the school union, and An calculated the total cost material. Each person plays a small part. They sold lemonade and cookies at recess, but Huy made the first batch so sour that a 10th grader winced.

“We call it experiential taste,” Huy said.

An edited the recipe, adding sugar and ice. The second batch is sold out. The amount of money earned was not much, but enough to buy waterproof paint and a few hangers. Like recording each item, publicizing it right on the board.

In the afternoon, father called. “How much money do you have left?”

An looked at the thirty thousand bill from the store, the portion from the lemonade and the remaining money. “One hundred and seventeen thousand.”

“Do you have enough to eat?”

“If you think ahead.”

“You can talk to me if you need to.”

An looked at the broom placed next to the door. “If I tell you, will you reopen the card?”

"Maybe."

“So I won't say it.”

Father sighed. “An, this is not a contest to see who is more stubborn.”

"I know. But if the test is self-responsible, you can't both set the questions and give the answers."

There was a long silence. Finally, her father said, "I'll send you a sample spending list tonight. It's not money, just how to budget."

“I can do it myself.”

“I know. But adults can also share tools without buying the results.”

An was stunned. This was the first time her father said something that made her not know how to refute. She agreed to receive the file.

The next day, An made a spending chart for the whole week: bus tickets, breakfast, cooking ingredients, money for projects, and a reserve. She cut out the things she didn't need, but still kept the money to buy a cup of tea on Friday. Mai looked at the board and said: "Did you include joy in the budget?"

“If I don't write it down, I'll forget it.”

Khang read it through. “Don't cut the provision.”

“I already cut it.”

“So what if you get sick?”

An looked at the number. “I will…”

"See. Backup is not change."

An added a small amount. She realized money management isn't just about allocating enough for everything, but about leaving room for the unpredictable.

At the end of the week, the card is still locked. An is no longer panicking. She already knows how much a bus ticket costs, which vegetables last a long time, the shop pays by the hour, and a project cannot use one person's money to claim it belongs to the whole class.

On the backyard board, Huy added: "Today's lemonade is less sour than yesterday." Khang changed it to: "The fund is enough to buy paint." An looked at the text and smiled. Perhaps maturity is not about not needing anyone, but about knowing what you need and asking in the right way.

Saturday morning, An went to the market with the landlady of the apartment. She showed her how to choose fish, ask the seller the price first and bring a cloth bag. An originally planned to buy beef, but changed to tofu and eggs when he saw the price increase. The hostess said she knew how to calculate, but don't turn the meal into a harsh test.

“Eating enough is enough,” she said. “Don't skip meals because of savings.”

An remembered Khang's words about the reserve. She bought an extra carton of milk, even though she had to cut down on a pack of cookies. She wrote in the notebook: "Health is also an expense that needs to be protected."

At the shop, Khang gave An a new job: check the brakes of the cars the students brought. An learned how to squeeze the brake lever, hear the rubbing sound and recognize that the wire was too loose. She did it slowly, but not carelessly. A boy thanked him, saying the car was safer for going to school.

“Do you think today's salary is worth it?” Khang asked.

“Yes. But I like the part where people can go home without worrying about their car breaking down.”

“Don't say this to Huy, he will turn into a poster.”

Huy heard it and immediately took the paper. Mai snatched the pen before him write.

In the afternoon, the group met about the use of the lemonade money. Some of you want to buy new lights, some want to buy moisture-proof boxes. An did not vote first, because she knew her opinion could easily be viewed as certain. She asked everyone to state their needs first. In the end, they chose a moisture-proof box and borrowed a lamp from the school union.

Khang asked An if he regretted it. “No. Rain data is more important than feeling beautiful.”

“You sound like someone whose roof has leaked.”

“I was taught by a lunch box.”

The group laughed.

That evening, my father sent An a sample expense list. She looked and saw that there were expenses she had never thought of: maintenance, insurance, extra money, the manager's time. She texted asking why she didn't write "fun money". Father replied: “Joy can also be planned, but don't let it disappear because of too many pounds.”

An took the last envelope and put in a small amount for the class's upcoming field trip. She did not report immediately, but the next morning asked the group if they needed to close. The group decides that each person contributes according to their ability, not required. An contributes his own contribution with wages, without writing his own name on the board.

A friend asked who contributed the most. As replied: "It's not important. What's important is enough and no one is forced."

An looked at that sentence and saw that it was similar to the principle she was learning everywhere: money is just a type of resource; The right to choose is what needs to be kept.

At the end of the week, An had eight thousand left in his wallet and his reserves intact. She bought a small ice cream at the school gate and ate it with Mai. Mai asked her if she missed home.

"Have."

“Remember what?”

“Remember the bathtub having hot water, but don't miss having everything set up.”

Mai gave me a tissue. “You can remember both.”

An nodded. She doesn't need to deny the comfort she once had to prove she has changed. She just needs to know when to use it, when to do it herself, and when to ask others.

The bank card is still locked, but An no longer feels like his life is locked. She has a small wallet, a budget, and a group of people who remind her to eat lunch. For a lady at the back table, that's the new kind of rich.