Chapter 7 — Medal of Duong Nguyet

After retiring, I no longer maintained my weight, my body gradually lost weight, returning to the shape of a normal girl. But every day I still wake up early to practice. Even though there are still people calling me "Athletic Barbie" behind my back, I don't pay attention. That day, as usual, I jogged before starting work. The greenway I usually run was blocked, so I changed to another route. Unexpectedly, I met Truong Nam Tinh. He's obviously the same age as me, but now he looks like someone who's forty or fifty years old. He is proficient at dodging urban management staff, proficient at paying change and making pancakes. Seeing me, he looked extremely awkward. In my heart I was a little sobbing, also a little emotional, but I didn't know what to say. Just as I turned around to leave, he called me: "Tieu Nguyet." I don't care about his past, I intend to save him some dignity. But he kept talking, saying everything he had been through in one breath in one breath. After going abroad with Hua Vien Vien, at first everything was fine. Later, because there were no adults to manage them, they began to let themselves go. His studies were a mess, and he accidentally became addicted to drugs. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed classmate smiled and gave him a glass of wine: "Don't worry, it's legal. It's okay." After Hua Vien Vien's parents found out about the incident, they forcibly sent their daughter back to the country for drug treatment. They don't care about Truong Nam Tinh's life and death. After his passport expired, he had to scrape together money from everywhere to buy a plane ticket back home. He could have become the most glorious athlete, but he ended up in prison for the first time and then the second time. The social workers in the residential area are well aware of his situation. Finally, having no other choice, they helped him set up a stall. But the people in that area are all familiar with each other. Knowing that it was an addict's counter, no one dared to come and buy it. Furthermore, the flow of people there is not much. So he could only carry the stall around, just to get a bite to eat. He talked east and west, finished telling the story of the past years, then tremblingly lit a cigarette. "I... I know your story. That year you competed, I saw you win the championship on television." I looked at his collapsed appearance like a withered tree, and added a dagger: "Truong Nam Tinh, have you forgotten?" “You could have done it too.” He was stunned, then burst into tears. I stopped paying attention to him and stood up to leave. Like I said, in this world, the most difficult things to take are shortcuts. I walked towards the rising sun. Author: Grilled seitan — End of full text —