Chapter 1 — My Home, No One Should Touch It

The house I spent ten years saving to buy... someone moved in first.

"You guys clarify for me! I'm the homeowner! What do you mean the key was already claimed by someone yesterday?"

My growling voice almost echoed throughout the management room.

"I already understand this matter. The key was indeed received yesterday. Your younger brother, Tham An, came with his household registration book, saying he was authorized by you to receive it on his behalf. My side has verified his identity information, the process is completely valid."

Faced with the manager's dismissive, responsibility-shifting attitude, I turned cold, took out my phone, and dialed 110.

“Change house for me.”

“I don't need it anymore.”

“That house… is dirty.”

I clutched the house purchase contract in my hand, standing in front of the "Cam Tu Hoa Dinh" sales center, the corners of my lips curling up uncontrollably. Thirty years old. Finally, I have a house that belongs to me. Don't rent, don't borrow. It's a house named Tham Thanh Vy, built by me, every penny. From the day I graduated from college until now, I have been frugal, worked late into the night, and finally gathered enough money for a deposit. In those days, people ordered food, I ate instant noodles. People take taxis, I squeeze into buses. People go out on weekends, I stay at the company and work part-time to earn triple the salary. Every penny of mine is covered in sweat... and tears. From now on, I don't need to look at the host's face anymore. No need to worry about rent increases. There's no need to listen to my mother say things like...

"What's the point of a girl buying a house? She has to get married."

I laughed coldly. Now I also have capital. Do you want to hold my hand?

“Miss Tham, congratulations on becoming the prestigious owner of Cam Tu Hoa Dinh!”

Salesperson Tieu Ly smiled so brightly that he gave me a red gift box with both hands.

"You really have good eyesight, the three-room, two-hall, open-air apartment in both directions, and you even chose the most beautiful apartment in the building! August 1802, the most beautiful location in the area, extremely clear view, overlooking the entire scenic lake!"

I accepted the gift and gently said thank you. Those were ten years of my youth. Ten years of suffering. Ten years of always telling myself... "I can handle it".

“Let's go, let's see my new house!”

My steps were light, I just wished I couldn't fly over right away. The residential area is even more beautiful than imagined. Covered with green trees, the distance between buildings is wide. In the middle is a fountain, and the lake also raises ornamental carp. The willows next to the artificial lake have not been planted long ago, but have already begun to sprout. I hummed a melody softly, and was in such a good mood that I just wanted to spin a few times on the spot. This is Tham Thanh Vy's house. My own house. I put on high heels, walked through the small path in the garden, towards the management center. The excitement made the air taste sweet as well. The management center is located in a separate small two-story building. Glass windows cleaned until shiny. The sign in front of the door clearly reads:

“Cam Tu Hoa Dinh Management Service Center — Serving with heart, building with love.”

Only later did I realize how ironic these eight words were. I pushed the door open and walked in, cold air rushed in. At the front desk there was a young girl with her hair tied in a ponytail, her head bowed, scrolling through her phone. The screen is TikTok, the sound is loud, the "evil" laughter repeats over and over. She even don't raise your head. I took a deep breath, put my ID and house purchase contract on the counter, trying to keep my voice polite:

"Hello, I am the owner of apartment 8-1802, Tham Thanh Vy. I came to receive the key."

No response. Her finger was still gliding across the screen. I repeat again, my voice a little higher:

“I came to get the keys.”

“Wait a minute.”

She finally opened her mouth, her tone was superficial as if chasing away beggars, her eyes never left the phone. I stood there... looking at her for exactly two minutes. Constantly reminding myself in my head. Happy day. Don't get angry. Don't get angry. Getting hot will cause wrinkles. In those two minutes, she watched the entire video three times, laughed out loud twice, then slowly exited the application, opened the management system, yawned, and then glanced at me.

“August 1802 huh…”

She muttered, typed a few times on the keyboard, clicked the mouse. Then the movement stopped. His eyebrows furrowed a bit and then relaxed, his expression becoming very uncomfortable. Not surprising. Not guilty. It's like... I came to cause trouble.

“The key to apartment 8-1802 was claimed yesterday.”

Her voice was light, like she was comforting a child. I stopped.

“I received it yesterday, the owner has moved in.”

She withdrew her gaze and picked up the phone again.

“Did you remember the house number wrong?”

My head made a "buzzing" sound. It was like someone poured a bucket of cold water straight from my head down to my feet.

“Am I remembering wrong?”

I couldn't believe my ears.

"I bought a house but I remembered wrongly? I made a deposit, signed a loan, paid the mortgage every month... but I remembered the wrong house number?"

I pushed the contract towards her, almost hitting her in the face:

"Open your eyes and look! Tham Thanh Vy! August 1802! Just handed over yesterday, today I just came for the first time! Who received my key?!"

She was so startled that I almost dropped the phone. But quickly returned to the original uncomfortable look. She slowly took the contract, glanced at it, then flipped through the file on the table, finding something.

“Ah, Tham An received it.”

"Bring your household registration book, say it's your younger brother, authorized to accept it on your behalf."

As soon as that name popped out... my heart felt like it fell straight to the bottom of the abyss.

“My brother?”

The person who hasn't contacted me in ten years and doesn't even know my phone number? The person who took my things from a young age, but when he grows up, he still wants to take my money? A stream of hot blood rushed straight to my head, my temples twitched, my voice was also distorted:

"What kind of business are you guys doing?! I bought a house and I haven't lived in it for a day. You dare to give the keys to someone else?!"

“Someone else?”

She laughed contemptuously. That kind of smile... makes me want to tear her mouth out.

"It's clearly written in the household registration book, she's the older sister, he's the younger brother. If we're in the same family, how can we divide what belongs to whose? Besides, who knows if I bought the house for you to use as a wedding house?"

She shrugged, her voice full of "experience":

"We've encountered this many times. It's normal for siblings to give houses to each other. Why are you reacting so loudly?"

I was so angry that I was dizzy. What is called a “big reaction”? My house, my keys, were taken by someone... I'm not allowed to react? Seeing my silence, she thought I was weak and added:

"Besides, your younger brother said that you asked him to come pick it up. We have verified the information. In the household registration book, we are indeed the same family. We followed the correct procedure. Do you have an opinion?" Then go find your brother, don't take your anger out on us."

“Correct procedure?”

I laughed. A bone-chilling laugh.

“You call that correct procedure? Will you call me to confirm? Can you see I'm there? Do you have my power of attorney?”

I looked straight at her, each word falling like a knife:

“You only need a household registration book to take someone else's key?”

“So can anyone who holds my household registration book sell my house?”

Her expression finally wavered. But still trying to keep my mouth shut:

“Then go tell your younger brother… it's not like we told him to take over your house…”

“Call your manager out.”

I speak slowly, word by word.

“Now. Lap. That means.”