Chapter 13 — The Night Before Exam Day

He can't walk. I continue to write articles. Every stroke of the pen uses force as if driving a stake into oneself. Forty minutes later, the other contestant was brought back. His steps were unsteady, his eyes were dull. As he passed me, he suddenly whispered: "Water." There is no water on my table. Before entering the exam room, Ms. Tan was afraid that I would be nervous, so she only told me to bring an unopened bottle of mineral water. That water bottle is placed in a centralized location in front of the classroom. I looked up. More than a dozen bottles of mineral water are lined up next to the podium. There is a bottle with a red line stuck on the cap. Exactly like the red thread in the blackboard slot. I immediately withdrew my gaze. Do not drink water. Don't touch anything. I finished writing the last paragraph and went back to check the multiple choice section. The male supervisor behind him came again. He stopped to my right, patting the corner of the table seemingly casually. Three hours. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a scar on the tip of his finger. Right between the right arm. Exactly like Tham Truong Bach on the second floor just now. Are not. Not identical. It's the same person. Inspector card, supervisor card, special entrance. What he prepared had more than just one face. When the bell rang for the end of time, the whole classroom echoed with the sound of putting down pens. I put down my pen. The male supervisor immediately walked over to collect my papers. The female supervisor raised her hand to stop. "Let me collect this row." His smile faded. "If you collect in order, no one will collect it." The female supervisor looked at him. "Not the same." Her voice was not loud, but very tough. I suddenly realized that Ms. Tan must have warned me before. The test was taken away by the female proctor and placed in a sealed bag. My heart finally felt a little more at ease. But the next second, the male supervisor suddenly bent down and picked up the small piece of paper at my feet. He whispered in my ear: "Let's meet at the North gate." The female supervisor was startled and turned around. He stood up straight, crumpling the piece of paper in his palm. Candidates leave the exam room in order. I was asked to stay in my seat and wait for the police to escort me. The stream of people outside the classroom rushed out the North door like a tide. I sat in an empty classroom, hearing the screams of parents, car horns, and footsteps echoing from afar. Ms. Tan quickly rushed in. Seeing me still sitting there, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Are you okay?" I shook my head. "That male supervisor is him." Ms. Tan's face turned pale. "Tham Truong Bach?" "Yes." The police immediately pulled out the camera. But in the camera, the male supervisor goes into the stairwell after collecting the cards. When I left, there was only a supervisor's vest left hanging on the handrail. The staircase window was wide open. Outside is a row of air-conditioned heaters, connecting directly to the roof of the synthetic building next door. He ran away again. The head of the exam center rushed over, his voice low. "Ly Bach was the real examiner. At 6:30 a.m., he was knocked unconscious in the parking lot and his name card was taken away." My fingertips were cold. In other words, Tham Truong Bach wore his teacher's badge and stood behind me for an entire exam session. The police escorted me out through the teachers' entrance. The North Gate area is crowded with people. I saw from afar a woman wearing a red dress standing among the parents. She wore sunglasses and held a bouquet of sunflowers. That figure is very similar to my mother. But my mother was obviously still at the police station taking a statement. The woman seemed to see me too. She took off her sunglasses and gave me an unfamiliar smile. Then she raised her hand, holding a photo in the sunflower bouquet. In the photo, Tham Chu is kneeling in a dark warehouse, his mouth taped. On the wall behind him was written a line

The letters are as red as blood. If you want to save him, bring a bronze card to exchange for your biological mother's remains. 16 Tham Chu in the photo bowed his head, his wrists tied behind him. The blood-red writing on the wall was like a mouth, piercing through the photo and biting into my eyes. If you want to save him, bring a bronze card to exchange for your biological mother's remains. Ms. Tan's first reaction after seeing the photo was to block me behind her. "Don't look." But I saw clearly. On Tham Chu's neck he wears a sign. On the board write two words. Retribution. The police took the photo and immediately sent someone to trace the source. The woman in the red dress turned around and blended into the crowd. Outside the North gate, there were too many parents. Sunflowers, red shirts, and umbrellas crowded together into a cluster. By the time they arrived in plain clothes, the woman had disappeared. Leave only one petal on the ground. I stood in the teachers' aisle, my hands and feet cold. It was clear that Tham Chu had harmed me to this point, but when I saw him kneeling in the warehouse, I still had no way to pretend that nothing had happened. Not because of old love and old meaning. But I know that Tham Truong Bach dares to use Tham Chu as a bargaining chip, which proves that he is crazy enough to throw away his own son. The police asked me where the bronze card was. I looked at Ms. Tan.