Chapter 12 — The First Foundation Stone

But I still go to school every day normally and take exams normally. Average score is in the top three majors. Sophomore year, I received a phone call. It's my mother. "To Van, you're remarried." "To whom?" "I don't know. A teacher. Pretty good person." "Happy?" "...Pretty happy." "That's good." "And you?" "You're pretty good." "Do you have a boyfriend?" "...Someone." "Who?" "I've met before. That guy in high school." "Co Ngon?" "Yes." She smiled. "Very good, I have an impression of that boy. Solid Hanging up the phone, Co Ngon had just returned from the library. "Whose phone is that?" "My mother." "What did you say?" "Tell me to be firm." He was stunned for a moment, then smiled. "Your eyes are not bad." "Don't be complacent." He put down the book, walked over, very naturally hugged my shoulders from behind. "So do you need to show a little more firmness?" I didn't push him away. "Just stay as you are now." Third year, I made a decision: to give rent that house. Not for sale, for rent. Monthly rent is eight thousand five hundred. I rented a small studio next to the school, the upper floor was an office, the lower floor was for living. That house is more than just a place to live for me. It was my only sense of security at seventeen years old. Now I don't need to rely on it to feel safe anymore. But it's forever written in my name. The year he graduated from college, the studio's annual revenue exceeded eight million. I received two job offers. One is a content strategy position at a leading Internet company, salary five or six hundred thousand. The only thing left is to continue doing it yourself. I choose the latter. On graduation day, Tran Doa ran from the opposite school to give me a bouquet of flowers. "Miss To Van, congratulations on graduating from the best university in the country." "You also graduated." "But I'm not as grand as you." "You won first prize in the provincial instructional design competition, isn't that grand?" She smiled. "Okay, we're both fine." That night at the party, a lot of people came. Tran Doa, Co Ngon, friends in the studio, and some friends from university. When Co Ngon raised his glass, he said one sentence: "Dear To Van. From seventeen years old to twenty-two years old, you have let me witness how beautifully a person can live." Everyone raised their glasses. I took a sip. “Be less cheesy.” But the corners of my mouth still curled up. The third year after graduation, I was twenty-five years old. The studio transformed into a content company, with a team of fifteen people. Signed twelve creators, incubated three million-follower accounts. Company valuation thirty million. I bought my second house in this city. Not the school district house, but the one I chose, with large glass windows facing south, with a view of the entire city skyline. On the day of moving house, Co Ngon helped me move the last box of books. "This house is not bad." "Yes." "Much bigger than my high school house." "I still keep that house." "I know." He put the box down, "It's very well kept." I stood on the balcony, looking out. Twenty-five years old. Two houses, one company, one lover, a few close friends. Don't rely on anyone for help. Everything is step by step to get out on your own. On my twenty-fifth birthday, I received an unexpected text message. Sent by Tien Tu Tu. "To Van, long time no see. I'm currently studying graduate school abroad, and recently saw an article about your company. I wanted to tell you, I was wrong about that year. Sorry." I looked at this message and didn't reply for a long time. Not angry, not confused. I just feel like this person, this thing, has gone too far. Finally I answered with four words: "It's over." Say no more. That night, my father also sent a text message. "To Van, happy birthday. Now I open a small shop in the countryside, life is temporary."

fine. I gave you twenty thousand, I've saved enough, when will I pay you back?" I replied: "No need to pay." He sent a thank you expression pack that only older people would use. I laughed a little. Maybe he will never be a good father. But at least he's no longer a threat. That's enough. During the birthday party, after drinking two glasses, Tran Doa lay down on the table and cried out. "To Van, when you were eighteen years old, you told me 'relying on someone is not as good as relying on yourself'. At that time, I saw that you were so heartless." "What about now?" "Now I see that what you said was right, but it wasn't completely right." "Where's the mistake?" "It's right that you relied on yourself to get to this day, but there's always someone by your side. Me, Co Ngon, your mother, including the friends in the studio in the future." I thought for a bit. "That's right." "So the correct way to say it is: stand on your own, let worthy people come close." I raised my glass. "Not bad, empty." She grinned. "I am indeed your spokesperson." At thirty years old. The company's annual revenue exceeded fifty million. I was on the cover of a trade magazine, the title was: "From a ten-year-old girl." From the age of seven living alone to the founder of a ten-million-level content company.