Chapter 1 — The Machine of Dreams

Part I — Forced to Enter

Vũ Bảo Châu stood in front of the school notice board, eyes glued to the paper that had just been posted this morning, feeling like the whole world had just collapsed under her feet. "New regulations: Grade 12 students must accumulate a minimum of 20 hours of STEM Club activities to be eligible for graduation, applicable from this semester."

"What is this?" she muttered, reading the text over and over as if hoping it would disappear if she looked at it long enough.

"New regulations from the Department," a voice said from behind. Ngô Thục Hiền, Bảo Châu's best friend, walked over, holding a similar notice. "I heard it's to strengthen technical career orientation for students. I just signed up for the Literature Club, and which club are you planning to join?"

"I haven't had time to think about it yet," Bảo Châu sighed, folded the paper and stuffed it into her briefcase. "I hate everything related to science and technology, you know that. My Physics score never gets above five points."

"Then choose a club a little more gently," Thục Hiền suggested. "Applied Chemistry Club? Or Office Informatics Club?"

"All of those clubs already have enough registrations," Bảo Châu replied, her voice helpless as she looked at the list posted next to it. "There's only... Robotics Club left."

They both looked at each other silently. The Robotics Club was famous for gathering the best Math and Physics students in the school, people who could sit for hours calculating complex technical parameters and just listening to it gives Bảo Châu a headache.

"Are you sure you really have no other choice?" Thục Hiền asked, her eyes full of sympathy.

"I've checked everything," Bảo Châu replied, her voice heavy. "The registration deadline is this afternoon. If I don't register for any club, I won't be eligible to graduate."

That afternoon, with a heavy mood as if she were walking to her execution, Bảo Châu reluctantly went to the Robotics Club room, located in the last block near the school's practice workshop. Before the door was fully opened, she heard the sound of drilling, welding, and the distinctive smell of burning plastic entering her nose.

Stepping inside, she saw a completely unfamiliar space — long tables filled with electronic components, tangled wires, and in the corner of the room, a group of students were gathered around an unfinished robot frame, heatedly debating something related to "center of gravity" and "torque" that Bảo Châu did not understand at all.

"What do you need?" a deep, not very welcoming voice rang out from behind her.

Bảo Châu turned around, facing a tall guy, wearing glasses, hands still stained with grease, sharp eyes looking at her with a questioning look. The name tag on the uniform said: Đinh Hoàng Nam.

"Ah, I... I came to register to join the club," Bảo Châu stammered, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the strangely professional atmosphere of the room.

Hoàng Nam looked at her for a moment, his eyes glancing at the schoolbag printed with flowers and the paintbrush sticking out of the side pocket, as if trying to assess whether she belonged here or not. "How much do you understand about robots?" he asked directly, without beating around the bush.

"To be honest," Bảo Châu replied, trying to keep her voice calm even though she was gradually losing confidence, "I almost don't know anything. I only registered because of the school's mandatory regulations."

That honest answer made Hoàng Nam frown slightly, an expression that Bảo Châu could not read as disappointment or simply surprise. "Our club is preparing for the national Robotics competition," he said, his voice serious. "We need people who are truly committed, not just coming in to get enough hours."

Those words, even though unintentional, still made Bảo Châu feel slightly hurt. "I have no choice," she replied, her voice stiff. "But if you don't want me here, I can go find another club."

"No, that's not what I meant," another voice chimed in, dissolving the tension. Another guy, smaller in figure, messy hair, walked over with a friendly smile. "Hello, I'm Lâm Tấn Phát, in charge of the team's programming. Don't pay attention to Hoàng Nam's gruff attitude, he's always like that with new people."

"I'm not rude," Hoàng Nam protested, although his tone still remained serious and unapproachable.

"You're being rude," Tấn Phát laughed, turning to Bảo Châu with friendly eyes. "Don't worry, we need more people to design the robot's exterior. Are you good at drawing?"

Bảo Châu was surprised by that unexpected question. "I... I learned how to draw when I was little," she replied, her voice reserved. "But I don't think that has anything to do with robots."

"Yes," Tấn Phát affirmed, leading her closer to the unfinished robot frame on the table. "Competing robots not only need to run well, but also need to impress the judges aesthetically. Last year we lost partly because the design of the shell was too bad, the judges mercilessly deducted points."

Hoàng Nam stood and watched the conversation, his expression still reserved, but did not object further. Bảo Châu, although her heart was still filled with emotions at the homeroom's initially unwelcoming attitude, also began to feel a little curious about the possibility of contributing something truly useful to the team, even though she initially came here only because she was forced.

"Okay," Hoàng Nam finally spoke, his voice still serious but less cold than before. "If you really want to try, we will give you a chance. But I have to say first, the team is in the sprint phase of preparing for the regional qualifiers, there won't be much time to teach from the beginning."

"I understand," Bảo Châu replied, trying to keep her voice confident even though she still had many doubts about her own abilities. "I will try my best."

Tấn Phát took her around the factory, introducing each work area — the programming corner with a row of computers tangled with cables, the mechanical area with all kinds of tools neatly hanging on the wall, and finally an empty desk corner, covered in dust, clearly not used by anyone for a long time.

"This will be your working corner," Tấn Phát said, brushing off the dust on the table. "We used to have a person in charge of design, but he transferred schools in the middle of last year, and since then this corner has been vacant."

Bảo Châu looked around that small space, a strange feeling crept into her heart - not exactly excitement, but also not quite the reluctance like when entering the room. She put down her schoolbag, took out the sketchbook she always carried with her, and flipped to a blank page.

"Can you show me the current robot frame design?" she asked, turning towards Hoàng Nam standing nearby, her tone starting to become a little more confident.

Hoàng Nam looked at her for a moment, then without saying anything, walked over and took a set of technical drawings and placed them on the table in front of her. The lines filled with data and technical symbols overwhelmed Bảo Châu for a moment, but she still tried to concentrate, picked up her pencil and began sketching the first lines next to that dry technical drawing, trying to imagine a more soulful shape for the lifeless machine that was gradually taking shape on the team's desk.

"This is the first time someone asked me about the shape of the robot," Hoàng Nam said, his voice a bit surprised as he stood and observed Bảo Châu's first drawings. "People often only care about whether it functions properly or not."

"But a beautiful machine is just as important as a well-functioning machine," Bảo Châu replied, without raising her head, still focusing on each detail. "People often remember beautiful things longer than merely effective things."

Hoàng Nam was silent for a moment, seemingly considering that statement in a way he had never thought of before. "You're probably right," he admitted, his tone losing its initial stiffness.

That afternoon passed faster than Bảo Châu imagined. She gradually got used to the noisy atmosphere of the factory, with the sound of drilling machines mixed with the lively discussions of other members, and with the quiet but focused presence of Hoàng Nam, who occasionally stopped by her desk to check on the progress and give some brief but surprisingly accurate comments.

When the activity ended, Bảo Châu packed up her things and looked back at her first sketch - an outer shell with an elegant shape, reminiscent of a bird spreading its wings, different from the rough, angular appearance of the original robot frame. She felt a small sense of satisfaction, a feeling she never thought she could find in a room full of screws and wires like this.

"See you on Wednesday," Tấn Phát waved as she left. "You did well, even though it's only your first day."

Bảo Châu smiled in response, walking out of the workshop with a complicated feeling - there was still some doubt about whether she really belonged here or not, but there was also a small glimmer of hope that, perhaps, that seemingly obnoxious mandatory regulation was opening a door that she had never thought of before.