Chapter 14 — The House Without Me

A year later, I married Chu Tu Bach. It turned out that even the gallery opening date had to be chosen on the anniversary of their failed engagement.

“Why the 17th?”

I asked. Duong Chi's face looked slightly embarrassed. Chu Tu Bach answered for her.

“It's the exhibition team that chooses a good day.”

“So what?”

I looked at the person in charge of the exhibition. He hesitated a bit.

“Miss Duong Chi said, this day has special meaning for her.”

Zhu Tu Bach's face changed. Duong Chi immediately explained.

“I just feel, that day was the turning point for me to start my life again.”

“Sister, don't misunderstand.”

I don't misunderstand. They don't even have to do anything behind my back. Just right in front of me, reliving their lost past over and over again. Then tell me, don't make detailed calculations. I turned around and walked into the side room. Take down the first photo on the wall. Chu Tu Bach followed in.

“What are you doing?”

"I'll take your things away."

“The exhibition plan has not yet been decided.”

“But I have already decided.”

I pulled the photo out of the display frame. The exhibition staff wanted to stop it, but was stopped by Wei Thua Le.

“Don't touch her.”

His voice was very cold.

“Using a personal image without that person's permission is inherently illegal.”

Chu Tu Bach looked at him.

“Mr. Wei, this is a family matter.”

“Boss Chu invited me to handle the project, not to support copyright infringement.”

Wei Thua Le turned down the exhibition board with Duong Chi's autobiography printed on it.

“Display design can be redone.”

“But human experience cannot change the person in whose name it is.”

Duong Chi's face became increasingly pale.

“Teacher Wei, do you also see that I am a fake?”

Wei Chengli glanced at her.

“I only discuss the work and the facts.”

“Whoever lived in this place, whoever is in the photo, write that person's name.”

Duong Chi bit her lip and burst into tears again. Chu Tu Bach's patience was finally exhausted.

“Sound Road.”

“That's enough.”

His voice was cold.

“If you don't want to allow it to be used, you can tell them to take down the photo.”

“But you don't have to try to embarrass Duong Chi in front of so many people.”

I stopped.

“She used my life as an exhibition, I refused, did I humiliate her?”

“She said she would fix it.”

“But you're still aggressive and intimidating.”

Aggressively threatening people. I heard these four words, but I wasn't surprised at all. I took down the second photo. Third picture. Take those childhood days where that face was cut off, one by one, and put it in a cardboard box. In the end, only the height line remained on the wall. The exhibition team has already posted an explanation sign next to those engraved lines.

“Duong Chi's journey to maturity.”

“Seven years old, first time holding a paintbrush.”

“At thirteen years old, I decided to become an artist.”

“Eighteen years old, went abroad to study.”

Every trace that originally belongs to me is assigned to Duong Chi's life. I picked up the razor from the desk. Chu Tu Bach quickly grabbed my wrist.

“What are you going to do?”

“Shave clean.”

“This is something my grandmother left me!”

“That's why I can't leave it to her.”

I pulled my hand away. The razor blade cuts into the wall. Shy first, scraping off the markings when I was seven years old. The second coward was when he was eight years old. Dust fell from the fence. Duong Chi looked at me incredulously.

“Sister, you would rather destroy it than not let me use it?”

“Yes.”

My hand doesn't stop.

“My things, I have the right to decide whether to keep them or not.”

Ten years old. Twelve years old. Fifteen years old. The traces that I once couldn't bear to touch have now disappeared one by one. With each line shaved away, the chest becomes a little more empty.