Chapter 10 — Secret Explosive Burning of Cow Dung

Niu Dai Dung in the screen rushed towards the camera, as if he wanted to go through the internet and grab that piece of paper. As for me, sitting in the brightest light, for the first time, I heard my voice drift away slightly.

“What is the child's background?”

07 After I asked that question, the lights in the studio seemed even whiter. So white that the expressions on each person's face have nowhere to hide. Tham Kieu held the script but never turned the page. The lens on Niu Dai Dung's side shook violently. He wanted to hang up, but didn't dare. Bach Nhiem stood next to the table, his eyes staring at the half sheet of paper in Luc Van Da's hand. She was even more afraid of that piece of paper than I was. As soon as this thought crossed my mind, I felt even calmer. I looked towards Luc Van Da.

“Read it all.”

Luc Van Da was silent for a moment.

“It's over.”

“Only half of this sentence remains.”

I stared at the screen.

“Where is the other half of the paper?”

Nuu Dai Dung suddenly roared.

“I don't know!”

He roared too fast. It's like he's afraid that if he's too late, someone else will speak for him. Tham Kieu held the headset.

"Mr. Nguu, we just want to ask about the whereabouts of the items in the old iron box."

Nuu Dai Dung gasped.

“That box belongs to my family.”

"What's inside, what's lost, has nothing to do with Van Duong."

I smiled faintly.

“When you asked me earlier if I took the iron box, you didn't say that.”

Nuu Dai Dung's face twitched. Bach Nhiem suddenly sat down on the chair. The edges of her eyes were still red, but her voice was much steadier.

“Van Duong, I know you are very confused right now.”

"But Mr. Luc held half a piece of paper of unknown origin, talking about your background, it's really too wild."

“What if this is fake?”

I looked at her.

“Why do you hope it's fake so much?”

Bach Nhiem paused. She quickly bowed her head.

“I don't want you to be taken advantage of by others.”

I nodded.

“Then you can thank yourself on my behalf.”

Quy Hanh couldn't help but turn his head away. Tham Kieu coughed softly and quickly continued.

“Van Duong, do you need to pause recording?”

Before I could answer, Tieu Hoa rushed out from backstage. In her hand, she held my phone tightly.

“Miss Duong.”

The girl's voice was tense.

“Auntie called.”

This time, the studio was even quieter than before. I took the phone. On the screen was my mother's name. My finger hovered for two seconds then pressed the listen button. I don't turn on speakerphone. But the studio was too quiet. It was so quiet that the first sentence my mother said passed through the receiver.

“Duong Duong, don't ask anything on my show.”

The bridge of my nose is stinging. Not out of self-pity. But because she never asked me what was going on. She knows. She always knew. I tightened my grip on the phone.

“Mom, what does the child's status mean?”

On the other end of the line was only the sound of breathing. After a long time, she said: "You should go home first." I looked at Luc Van Da on the screen. Looking at Nguu Dai Dung again. Finally looked towards Bach Nhiem.

“If you leave now, tomorrow's hot search will say you're guilty.”

My mother's voice was hoarse.

"I'm not sorry."

“They owe me.”

My hand twitched. Tham Kieu's eyes changed. Apparently she also heard this sentence. Bach Nhiem sat next to him There, his face darkened little by little. I turned on the speakerphone.

“Mom, say that again.”

The other end of the line suddenly went silent. I heard the sound of an old fan spinning. I could also hear her taking deep breaths to suppress her cries.

“Duong Duong.”

“In the past, I was not a child that no one needed.”

"It's not like I picked you up from the street."

My ears felt like they were filled with water. From a young age I knew I was not my parents' biological child.