Chapter 11 — No Resentment, No Forgiveness

Then, she spoke slowly:

"I will only say this one last thing."

"In the future..."

"The person you meet."

"Will surely be more worthy of you than he ever was."

After hanging up the phone, I sat by the window for a very long time. Chu Minh Hien’s mother... she was a kind woman. None of this had anything to do with her. But our connection—that chapter of my life—had reached its definitive close. There was no lingering attachment left. It felt like turning to a clean, blank page in a book; the old one had been left behind forever. That evening, To Dao came over to have dinner with me. We shared a bottle of wine, and suddenly, she asked me a question that I still remember vividly to this day.

"Nhuoc Tinh."

"Those eight days in the Western Sichuan mountains..."

"How on earth did you manage to get through them?"

I thought about it for a moment, then smiled.

"I wasn't trying to endure anything."

"I was just..."

"Looking at the scenery."

To Dao stared at me, dumbfounded.

"Tan Nhuoc Tinh."

"Are you still human?"

I set my wine glass down and let out a soft laugh.

"Yes, I am."

"But..."

"I am a person who has finally found peace with the past."

Two months later, the tide turned completely. The evidence of Lam Tu Vu’s past behavior—her habit of spreading malicious rumors online to smear others—was brought to light by someone else. That person filed a formal complaint directly to the Human Resources department of her company. It wasn’t me. It was a former colleague from her previous workplace. This person provided evidence showing that even at her old job, Lam Tu Vu had repeatedly done the same thing: using burner accounts to spread rumors, harass, and slander her peers. Those incidents had actually been officially documented back then. With these two sets of complaints overlapping, the company immediately launched an internal investigation. The final verdict was clear: Lam Tu Vu’s employment contract was terminated. The stated reason: "Damaging the company's reputation and disseminating false information."

When To Dao texted me the news, I was busy refining an event proposal for a new client. Her message contained only one sentence:

"Lam Tu Vu is unemployed."

I replied with a single word:

"Okay."

To Dao immediately typed back:

"Is that all you have to say?"

I smiled.

"What else is there to say?"

"She dug this pit for herself."

As for news about Chu Minh Hien, it was To Dao who did the digging. After losing the contract source from my company, he had tried to find work with another wedding planning firm. At first, he managed to secure a few small contracts, but his reputation had already soured. Within less than a month, his new partners terminated their collaboration as well. Lam Tu Vu was out of a job, and Chu Minh Hien’s career was hanging by a thread. They were living together, and I heard they fought every single day. Hearing all of this, my heart remained perfectly still. It wasn't because I had grown cold; it was because there was simply nothing left. The hatred, the self-pity, the desperate screams I had once let out on the peak of the Zheduo Mountain pass—they had all evaporated. I was simply continuing to walk forward. On and on I walked, until the two of them were left far behind, growing smaller and smaller, until eventually, I couldn't even see their silhouettes anymore.

Three months later, I received a major project: a contract to organize the annual gala for a large technology firm. The budget was eight million yuan, and it was open for competitive bidding nationwide. The General Manager, Mr. Ngo, handed the project to me. He looked at me and said:

"Nhuoc Tinh."

"I want you to be the team leader for this project."

"If we succeed..."

"You will become a partner in this company."

"You will receive a share of the profits."

Upon hearing this, I didn't feel a surge of excitement. I simply accepted the folder quietly, walked back to my desk, and opened the files. For the next two months of preparing the bid, I almost never left the office on time. To Dao would look at the dark circles under my eyes and shake her head.

"You’ve become possessed," she said.

"Those dark circles are starting to look like a panda's."

I laughed.

"Pandas are cute."

"I don't mind."

The day of the bidding presentation arrived.