Chapter 8 — The day I disappeared, they realized their mistake

I continuously exceeded the sales department's quarterly targets for six consecutive quarters. The first year exceeded 15%, the second year exceeded 30%. The group of three people I led signed seventeen customers, with a re-signing rate of 94%. The person who once said "what can you do if you move from administration" now meets me and changes his tone:

“Miss Niem, can you help me consider this plan?”

I don't care. I don't have time to pay attention. During the day, she works for clients, and at night, she studies for an MBA. Essay writing weekend. Occasionally going to the gym—a habit Ms. Lam forced me to form.

“Your body is the most important asset,” she said, “more important than any customer.”

During an MBA class, the professor finished teaching the course on Organizational Behavior and called me back.

"To Niem, your discussion is very in-depth. What did you learn before?"

“Graduate high school, self-study to university.”

The professor paused for a moment. Then said: "The density of your thinking is no less than any of the 985 graduates here. Just keep it up." I said thank you and walked out of the classroom. Standing in the hallway, I suddenly had a very vague feeling. It was as if at eighteen years old, something had been taken away. But I can't name it. Three years after I disappeared. The company's annual honor ceremony. Biggest customer of the year—a multi-channel digitalization project for a listed company, 8,000,000 yuan contract. The person who signed that contract: To Niem. On the big screen appeared my name and photo. I wore a dark gray vest and stood on stage. The light is a bit bright. Below are more than three hundred people. Loud applause. The people who laughed at me two years ago now applauded the loudest. Tieu Chu was also below, patting his eyes until his eyes turned red. Ms. Lam sat in the front row. No clapping. She just looked at me—there was a very clear light in her eyes. As if saying: I didn't look at the wrong person.

“To Niem, come sit here.”

After the ceremony, Ms. Lam called me into her room. Ready-made coffee. Two glasses. That was a signal—only when having an important conversation would she prepare like that.

"There's this thing," she took a sip, "the deputy sales general at headquarters is retiring next month."

I nodded. I know.

“I nominated you.”

The cup of coffee in my hand stopped in mid-air.

"Miss Lam... I've only been here for more than two years..."

"How many contracts have you signed over two years? How many people have you brought? Last year, your segment alone contributed 40% of revenue—don't tell me about seniority." She put down the glass, "seniority comes from sitting for a long time, ability comes from doing. You are the second one."

I was silent for a long time.

“Sister Lam, I just graduated from high school…”

"I'm studying for an MBA, getting my degree at the end of the year. Besides—" she pointed to the wall outside the door, where the company's core values were hung, but her eyes still looked at me, "this company looks at what you create, not your starting point."

I took a sip of coffee. Heat. But I didn't put it down.

"Okay. I'll do it."

“Not a test.” she corrected, "you deserve it."

Half a year later. I, To Niem, thirty years old, became the youngest vice president of sales in the company. Annual income, including bonuses and shares, is about 800,000 yuan. Office on the 18th floor. Glass door close to the ground. See half of the Hangzhou skyline. On the first day I moved in, I took an old photo—when I was eighteen years old, instant noodles, a notebook—framed it in a small frame and placed it on the corner of the table. The secretary walked in and asked: "Mr. To, this photo is...?"

“An old friend.”

After she left, I looked at the photo for a long time. The girl in the photo still looks cautious. Inscription The notebook has faded over time, but I remember every line. One day, I will live beautifully by myself.

“Yes,” I said softly, “I did it.”

Eight hundred kilometers away— A larger storm was brewing. And this time, it forced me to face the past. When Tran Vy called, I was in a meeting with Ms. Lam. I turned off the computer. Called back three minutes later. I turned it off again. Third time. Ms. Lam looked at me: "Listen. Call three times, there must be something urgent." I walked out into the hallway and answered the phone.

"Nhiem Nhiem—" Tran Vy's voice trembled, "your mother... checked it out. There is a tumor in the liver. The doctor said it is suspected to be malignant."

I leaned against the glass door. The wind from the 18th floor passed through the door, freezing cold.

"Mission? Do you hear me?"

"The doctor said we have to have surgery soon. The cost... is about 200,000 yuan."

200,000 yuan. I said nothing.