Chapter 11 — The House Without Me

“I invited Wei Chengli to come, just wanted another solution.”

“It's not that I don't believe you.”

“Yes.”

My voice is too calm. He instead frowned.

“What's wrong with you lately?”

"It feels like you're angry at me."

I looked at the workers busy in the yard.

“No.”

“Before the restoration is finished, I will do my job well.”

“What happens after it ends?”

He suddenly asked. I turned to look at him.

“After the end, the gallery will no longer have anything to do with you.”

“Of course it has something to do with you.”

Chu Tu Bach spoke seriously.

“This place is also my old home.”

“Whenever you want to come back, just come back then.”

I said nothing. The house was already given to someone else, and he gave me the grace to "go home anytime I want". In his eyes, this was probably too lenient. Wei Thua Le came out of the carpentry workshop and interrupted us.

“Miss Duong.”

“There is an issue that requires separate confirmation.”

He led me to the other end of the hallway. Making sure there was no one around, he lowered his voice and asked: "Hac Son's invitation letter, have you signed it yet?" I was a bit surprised.

“How do you know?”

“The project committee sought me out as a technical consultant.”

“Your name was recommended by me.”

I was stunned. Wei Chengli opened the drawing in his hand.

“I've been watching the projects you've worked on at Chu's company for several years now.”

“The signatures are the whole group.”

“But drawing habits, reconstruction methods and scene notes cannot fool anyone.”

He looked up at me.

“Hac Son needs someone who really understands old architecture.”

“There is no need for a ‘Mrs. Zhou’.”

My fingers tightened slightly. After returning to the Duong family, when anyone mentioned me, the first thing that came to mind was "a real genius". After getting married, the first thing that comes to mind is "Mrs. Chu". It's been a long time since anyone called me "Miss Duong" just because of my ability.

“I signed it.”

“The 17th accepted the job.”

Wei Chengli nodded.

“So the old house project should be handed over soon.”

“Boss Chu told me to take over the design behind the scenes.”

The last ripples in my heart instantly turned cold. It turns out he came today, not just for a reassessment. Chu Tu Bach has already prepared someone to replace me. Wei Thua Le saw through my face.

“I haven't accepted yet.”

“Why?”

“Because this drawing is not mine.”

He flipped the cover in front of me. The place where my name was originally written had been pasted over by someone using white paper. Above are printed the three words "Wei Thua Le".

“I can take over the project.”

His voice is not loud.

“But you can't take over someone else's name.”

I lifted my hand and peeled off that layer of paper. The word "Duong Am" below appeared again. The ink is clear. It was like finally getting rid of a layer of false cover, to see the sunlight. Before I could say anything, there was suddenly a loud noise outside. Next came the screams of horror from the workers.

“Miss Duong!”

“The side room door was pried open!”

* When I rushed to the side room, the lock had fallen on the ground. The door frame was cracked. Several employees of the exhibition company are carrying things out. Grandma's old radio, needle and thread basket, wooden ruler, and even my childhood photos were all neatly arranged on the long table. Against the wall is a finished exhibition board. Up there wrote:

“Quy Huong.”

“Duong Chi lived in the ancient town of Jiangnan since childhood, the old houses, apricot trees and the sound of carpentry, created her first source of artistic inspiration.”

I stood frozen in place, my whole body cold. In the photo, I was seven years old wearing a tiny red cotton shirt my grandmother made, squatting under an apricot tree to build a snowman. But my face was cut off. Leaving behind only the old house, apricot branches and a pair of hands holding a wooden shovel. Next to it is Duong Chi's autobiography.