Chapter 13 — The day I disappeared, they realized their mistake

The whole hallway was silent. The eldest aunt wiped her tears. His eyes were red, his lips pursed tightly. Their sister-in-law bowed her head. To Hao turned away, his shoulders shaking. I took out a bank card from my pocket. Put it down in front of her.

"Operating fee. 200,000 yuan. That's enough."

Everyone was stunned. She hugged the card tightly, as if clinging to the last straw. To Hao returned:

“Nien Niem, I will pay this money—”

I raised my hand to stop him.

"No need. This is the last time I spend money on this family."

I looked at my mother.

"Mom, I'll pay for the surgery. Because you're my mother. No matter how you treat me, that doesn't change."

She cried harder.

"But—from today, I don't owe anyone anything. And no one can take another penny from me."

I stood up.

"Your life from now on is yours. Not the To family's, not anyone's child, not anyone's younger brother. It's yours—To Niem."

I turned around and walked away. Behind her, her voice rang out, broken:

“Nien Niem… are you still coming back?”

I stopped at the end of the hallway. Don't turn around.

"You can come visit during the holidays. Not because you owe me money. But because I want to."

I stopped for a beat.

"And—treat Trang Trang well. Boy or girl, it's all you. Don't let another 'To Niem' have to live your life again."

There was silence behind for a long time. Then Liu Kien Quoc's voice rang out, hoarse:

“This girl… is the best in the family.”

When I walked out of the hospital gate, it was late afternoon. The sunset glowed red as if someone had poured color into the sky. I stood on the steps and took a deep breath. The air smelled of antiseptic, mixed with the smell of corn leaves in the background. I took out my phone and booked a train ticket to Hangzhou. 9:15 p.m. Two hours left. To Hao followed.

“Nim Niem!”

He stood in front of me, breathing heavily, still holding the card.

“This… you really don't need me to pay?”

"No need."

“So later—”

"From now on, you should worry about working and raising Trang Trang properly. Don't touch any more 'investment' things."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. After a long while, he said softly:

“Nien Niem… thank you.”

I looked at him. Those two words, he owes me more than ten years. Arrived very late. But it finally came. He stood there, as if he still wanted to say something. I don't wait.

“I'll take the admission notice.”

He nodded.

“It was originally mine.”

Correct. Originally mine. For this question, I waited nine years. It's here too. On the way to the station, I passed by the breakfast restaurant. Three years ago, at five thirty in the morning, I stood here and took a breath of cold air mixed with the smell of grease, then sent an email to resign. The shop is still open now. The quiche is still boiling in the pan. The shop owner has changed people, younger. I walked in.

“A bowl of wontons.”

“Big or small?”

The bowl of wontons was brought out, the heat made my eyes blurry. Thin skin, fragrant kernel. The broth has seaweed and dried shrimp. I ate one piece. Still the same taste. It's just that the people eating are different. Three years ago, the girl sitting here only had 2,370 yuan, not knowing where she would be tomorrow. Three years later, this woman knows where she is going... and also knows where she has come from. I finished eating. Pay. As I left, I turned to look back. The street lights in town were turned on. Warm yellow light spreads on the road surface like a thin layer of sugar. This time, I can say goodbye. Because I know—I will come back. Not because of debt. Not because of blood ties. But because... when you can say "no", then you really have the right to say "yes". On the speedboat. 9:15 p.m. The train carriage is more than half empty. I leaned against the window, looking at the night outside. Occasionally a few spots of light flashed by, like sparkling buttons on a black cloth. Phone vibrates. Tran Vy messaged:

"Nien Niem, your mother just cried for a long time. Your brother said he will look for a job tomorrow."

I finished reading. Don't reply right away. Next news:

"You deserve better. Always."

I smiled slightly. Type three words: Then open the album. That photo. To Niem is eighteen years old. Sit in front of the boarding table. A bowl of instant noodles. A notebook opened. The text is still clear:

“One day, I will live beautifully by myself.”

I enlarged the photo. Look into that girl's eyes. A little scared, a little confused... but still bright.

“Yes,” I whispered, “I did it.”

I set it as wallpaper. The speakers on the train rang out:

“Attention, the train is about to arrive at the station—Hangzhou East.”

I put the phone away. Carry bags. Stand up. The darkness outside the window is gradually being swallowed by the city lights. Hangzhou opened up—the buildings, the overpasses, the strip of light on the Qiantang River—like a glowing river. The train door opens. The wind blew in, bringing with it the warmth of April. I walked down. Each step is very steady. I'm home. This time—to my own home.