Chapter 6 — The day I disappeared, they realized their mistake

【Eight hundred kilometers away. Hometown.】 The day To Hao received the house key, he posted a post on his friends circle. Nine photos, standing in an empty house raising his hand in a V. Caption: "Try hard and it will pay off! Three rooms and a living room, give your wife and children a warm home!" Comments were full of congratulations. No one knew that in the deposit for that house, there was 180,000 yuan of his sister's five years of sweat and tears. No one knows, his sister—has disappeared. No one even knew—he still had a debt note in his pocket. Buying a house, renovating a house, everything requires money. In addition to the home loan, To Hao also borrowed 300,000 yuan from the bank, paying 8,300 yuan each month. Vuong Le asked for complete interior design, central air conditioning, and smart toilets.

"People repaired the house for 200,000, so we can't be too bad, right?"

To Hao's salary is a little more than 10,000, minus the installment payment, only 2,000. But he has a “good brother”—his childhood friend Truong Loi. Truong Loi does business, drives a BMW X5, wears a Rolex—later found out it was a fake. He dragged To Hao out for three drinks, talking about a "sure-win" project.

"Old To, selling hand-carried goods in Southeast Asia, the profit is more than 60%. You put in two or three hundred thousand, and half a year it doubles."

To Hao hesitated. Truong Loi shows the behind-the-scenes cash flow—also fake. To Hao took all the remaining money, 180,000 yuan, plus 220,000 borrowed from everywhere, total 400,000, and transferred it to him. Three months later. Phone number cannot be called. WeChat is blocked. Arriving at the company address—it was empty, even the tables and chairs had been cleared away. 400,000 yuan. Vaporize. To Hao squatted in front of an empty building, smoking an entire pack of cigarettes. In his hand, he still held the receipt Truong Loi wrote—the stamp engraved on the roadside. But it hasn't stopped yet. Of those 220,000 loans, 80,000 were high-interest loans. The mother's interest is the child's interest. Three months, 80,000 became 120,000. The creditor comes to the door. At first it was phone calls—dozens a day. Then we went directly to the house—two young men with crewcuts stood in front of the door, smiling faintly.

“Mr. To, let's talk for a moment?”

Vuong Le's face turned pale, hugged Trang Trang and hid in the room.

"To Hao, how much do you owe? Tell me!"

“No… not much…”

“How much!”

“Both principal and interest… about 150,000…”

Vuong Le shouted.

"150,000? Are you crazy! What will you pay? What will you pay!"

To Hao sat on the sofa, holding his head with both hands. Suddenly he remembered someone. That's right, find To Niem. She's such a good girl, last time she just got angry and left - called and said a few soft words, asking her to help... He picked up the phone and called To Niem's number.

“The number you have dialed does not exist…”

Call three other numbers. They are all empty numbers. He opened WeChat. Search for “To Niem”—nothing. Looking for “little sister”—nothing. She deleted him. No—don't just delete. Is to erase. The account also no longer exists. To Hao stared at the screen, his lips dry. He called To Niem's friends and former colleagues one after another.

“May I ask, do you have To Niem's contact?”

"To Niem? Haven't you been out of work for more than a year? Don't know where to go."

"She changed her number? I don't have it either."

“To Niem... long time no see, I thought I went abroad.”

All the clues, broken clean. As if this person never existed. To Hao put down the phone. The first time I felt something in my hand... so heavy. 【Hangzhou. At the same time.】 I received my self-study diploma. Red cover, gilt lettering. Major in Language and Literature. I open open, close, then open again. Take a photo—but don't post it. My WeChat is still blank, my profile picture is the ocean. I save the photos in a folder called “Gifts to Myself”. There are still a few photos in there: the first month's salary slip of 4,500 yuan, a copy of the first contract after moving departments, a pot of betel leaves placed on the dormitory window—still alive. It's all small things. But all... I earned it myself. That day after work, Ms. Lam called me into her room.

"I see you got your degree. Congratulations."

“Thank you, Ms. Lam.”

“What are you going to do next?”

I hesitated: "I want to study MBA. But..."

“But what?”

"Tuition is not cheap. My savings are just enough for a deposit on a small house... I really want a home. If I study MBA..."

Ms. Lam took off her glasses and leaned back in her chair.