Chapter 11 — My House is Not a Living House

He lowered his voice.

"This morning, General Director Lam of Lang Dinh investor called me. He said he was preparing a resort hotel project even larger than Lang Dinh, and wanted to appoint you to be in charge. Asked if you could arrange the time."

I raised my head.

“What scale?”

"Two hundred thousand square meters. Estimated interior design fee is eight million."

Just calculating according to Hoa Truc's profit sharing ratio, the amount of money I received far exceeded my three-year income working at the hospital.

“I accept.”

Trinh Hac Nien laughed.

"I knew right away. From now on, you can work directly with General Manager Lam. He is very sympathetic to you."

After he left, I looked at the drawing on the screen and suddenly remembered it. Summer three years ago, while pregnant, I still worked overtime to draw. Then what was it for? Because I want to earn a little more project commission. Because I want to save more money for my family. Because we want "our lives" to be a little better. Just regret...

The "us" of that day is no longer there.

But I still am. And the current me is alive better than when the so-called "us" still existed. The day of the industry conference falls on a Saturday. The hall of the international convention center located in the middle of the city was full, the room reported that there was not a single empty seat left in the room with a capacity of four hundred people. I wore a gray-blue vest dress, light makeup, stood in the waiting area behind the stage, quietly reviewing the reminder card in my hand. I'm not stressed at all. There was just a feeling of excitement that had been coming for a long time. The previous speaker shared about the project to renovate the old street, the response in the auditorium was quite normal. Then it was my turn. The presenter spoke up:

“Next, we would like to respectfully introduce Ms. Lam Niem So, key designer of Hoa Truc Design Company, with a sharing session titled 'Interior design practice of Lang Dinh complex commercial center'."

I walked onto the stage. As soon as the light shined down, the four hundred faces below seemed to blur. I opened the first page of the presentation and began the sharing session. For twenty minutes, I spoke continuously and coherently, without a single redundant sentence. From Lang Dinh's positioning analysis, space planning thinking, to considerations in material selection and lighting design, all are practical experiences. By about the fifth minute, the entire auditorium gradually fell silent. That's not the silence of boredom, but the concentration of those who are truly listening. At the end of the presentation, it was time for questions and answers. One hand was raised.

“Miss Lam, may I ask when designing a hotel lobby, what is the core thinking in organizing travel routes?”

“Miss Lam, did you complete Lang Dinh's lighting plan yourself or did you have a lighting expert to assist you?”

“I would like to ask if Hoa Truc currently accepts full design packages for private housing?”

I answered each question in turn in a calm and clear tone. Thirty minutes ended. The applause in the auditorium continued endlessly. As soon as I stepped off the stage, seven or eight people came forward to give me business cards. There are investors. Have colleagues in the industry. There are also media reporters. A man in a dark blue suit pushed his way to the front.

"Miss Lam, I am the person in charge of developing the Quan Lan Phu project in the east of the city. We are looking for a design team." interior design. Can I make WeChat friends?”

I received the business card and glanced at it. Chu Lap Vien. General Director of Quan Lan real estate. After making WeChat friends, he just nodded slightly and left without saying anything else. Trinh Hac Nien was waiting at the backstage exit, holding two cups of coffee in his hands.

“Not bad.”

He gave me a glass.

“While she was presenting, general manager Lam was also watching the livestream. Just now he texted me a sentence.”

He smiled.

“'Found the right person.’”

I took a sip of coffee, the corners of my lips curling up slightly. This is a moment that belongs to me. Not anyone's wife. Nor is she anyone's sister-in-law. Lam Niem So. That evening, returning to the apartment, I turned on my phone and took a look. There were more than ten new friend requests, all of them people I met at the conference today. There is also a special message. It's from Tran Trac Vien.

“Today my colleague said he saw you at a conference. Since when did you become a designer?

I looked at the message for a long time. Type a few words. Then delete it again. In the end, I didn't answer. You don't need to know what I've become. You just need to know... The current you is no longer worthy of me.