Chapter 4 — My Sister-in-Law Is Not My Maid

When I arrived, the receptionist escorted me up to the third-floor reception room. The prospective partner was named Trinh Hac Nien, a man in his early forties who enjoyed a stellar reputation in the industry. Having spent a decade working in Beijing before returning to this city three years ago to establish the Hoa Truc firm, he examined my portfolio of works without wasting any breath on pleasantries.

Lam Niem So, how long have you been at your current research institute?

Six years.

What is your annual salary?

Including bonuses and project commissions, roughly three hundred and fifty thousand.

He nodded gently.

My offer to you is a basic annual salary of four hundred and twenty thousand, with project profit-sharing calculated separately. You would come in as a key design partner, and after completing one full year of service, we can discuss equity stakes.

I looked at him, remaining silent for a moment.

I have already reviewed your online account, A Single Room.

Trinh Hac Nien slid his phone across the table. On the screen was a design piece I had previously published.

Your spatial perception is exceptional, and you possess strong commercial instincts. You should not merely be drafting blueprints for other people.

I currently have a project on hand that has not yet been formally handed over...

The Lang Dinh development?

I froze. He chuckled softly.

The primary investor is a friend of mine. He mentioned recently that he had set his sights on a designer at your institute, and when I looked into it, it turned out to be you.

So this is not a mere coincidence.

Not at all.

He leaned back leisurely against his chair.

Niem So, let me be entirely direct with you. Regarding that Lang Dinh project, the investor wishes to collaborate with an independent designer and prefers not to follow the rigid bureaucratic procedures of your institute. If you are willing to come over to Hoa Truc, this project can be transferred here directly.

In my mind, I quickly calculated the financial implications. The design fee for the Lang Dinh project alone amounted to at least four million. Under Hoa Truc profit-sharing scheme, the portion I could pocket would far exceed my entire yearly income at the institute.

I need a few days to consider this.

Naturally.

Trinh Hac Nien stood up and extended his hand.

Take your time, but do not make me wait too long.

I shook his hand. As I stepped out of the Hoa Truc building, the sunlight was blindingly bright. While standing by the roadside waiting for the pedestrian light to turn, my phone buzzed again. Tran Trac Vien: Where on earth are you? My mother says you haven't answered her messages in a week. I glanced briefly at the screen, locked it, and crossed the street. I spent three full days reaching my final decision. On Tuesday morning, I made an appointment to speak with the institute director, informing him of my intention to resign. He looked utterly astonished.

Is this because of the Lang Dinh matter? I can still try to negotiate further with the client...

It has nothing to do with Lang Dinh. It is simply a personal choice.

He stared at me for a long time before finally speaking.

Niem So, you have been here for six years. I will not force you to stay, but I hope you have thought this through carefully.

I have thought it through thoroughly.

The resignation procedure spanned two weeks. During this period, I attended to several pressing matters. First, I converted my short-term apartment lease into a long-term contract of two years. Second, I updated the business email linked to my personal account A Single Room to a completely new address, severing all ties with my former workplace. Third, I sought out a lawyer friend recommended by Co Thanh Van for a single free consultation. The lawyer, surnamed Chu, was a woman in her mid-thirties who spoke with absolute decisiveness.

The property deed bears both of your names. The initial down payment of four hundred and fifty thousand came from you, including contributions from your parents, while he contributed two hundred thousand, including funds from his parents. You bore half of the mortgage payments. Given current market valuations and capital contribution ratios, if the property is divided, you are entitled to the lion's share.

What if he refuses to agree?

Then we take it to court. Bank statements exist, contracts exist, and transfer records exist. The judge will issue a ruling.

Is there anything else I need to prepare?

Lawyer Chu glanced at me sharply.

Do you have any evidence of fault on the other party's part? For example, infidelity, domestic violence, or the concealment and transfer of assets.

No violence, no infidelity, at least none that I have discovered.

Then negotiation will be our primary path. The most crucial task right now is for you to organize your personal finances and carefully preserve all bank statements.

I nodded. When I stepped out of the law office, twilight had already fallen. My phone displayed three missed calls, all from Tran Trac Vien. There was also a WeChat voice message, which I pressed to play. It was his voice, heavy with the stench of cigarette smoke and sheer exhaustion:

Lam Niem So, exactly how long do you plan on throwing this tantrum? Vu Dong is giving birth next week, and you are her sister-in-law yet you haven't shown your face even once. How do outsiders perceive this? Do you have no sense of shame left at all?

Shame. What he had always cared about was never me, but superficial pride. I listened to the entire voice message and left it unanswered. On the day Tran Vu Dong went into labor, I was sitting at my new desk at Hoa Truc, reviewing the preliminary documentation for the Lang Dinh project. Tran Trac Vien sent a text message: Vu Dong is in the delivery room now, it is twins, are you coming? I replied with two brief words: Not going. He said nothing further. At four o'clock in the afternoon, my mother-in-law posted in the family group chat: Mother and children are safe! Two little princesses! One weighs just over three kilos, and the other two kilos nine! Beneath that message erupted a torrent of congratulatory remarks. Tran Trac Vien's eldest uncle, second aunt, cousins, and various in-laws flooded the chat with red envelopes, voice notes, and emojis spanning dozens of lines. Not a single person asked where Lam Niem So was. Nor did anyone feel that anyone was missing. I closed out of the group chat interface and resumed sketching my design drafts. Past nine o'clock in the evening, Co Thanh Van sent a message over.