Chapter 10 — There's No More Room For You

don't know—”
“I know.”
I interrupted him.
“I know.”
His breathing stopped.
“Every time you choose to believe her, it's not because she's so clever at deception. But because he's more willing to trust her. The information she gives him is always pleasant, pleasant, and tireless. My world always requires you to spend time, energy and responsibility. It's not that you don't know. I just don't want to know. I like the gentle world she created, in that world I don't have to feel guilty. In my world, you are forever in debt. So you didn't come.”
“…Trinh Yeu.”
“Have you seen that house yet?”
He was stunned: "Which house?"
“The house I bought for her. The house you used my deposit to buy.”
Silence.
“The curtain hanging outside the window is something I saw on Taobao. The flower shelf on the balcony is on my list of favorites. The paint color in the bedroom is my favorite milk tea color. He built her the home of my dreams, with my own money. Tham Do Chu, you said you wanted to meet and apologize. What do you have to apologize? On what basis do you apologize?
His breathing became heavy, as if a rock was crushing his chest.
“Trinh Yeu, I have already paid the money. His family also told her to move out. I—”
“No need. The house is hers, you are hers too. I don't need it anymore. Give her everything.”
I hung up and blocked that phone number. Then open the notes section on your phone, find the encrypted folder. Open the latest photo. It's a photo a colleague in Lam Thanh sent me. Tham Do Chu sat in the empty apartment, blankly looking at the cold bowl of porridge. It was a pot of porridge he cooked the way I wrote down on a note stuck in the kitchen, the rice grains bursting open, the eggs were finely chopped. The note read: *Tam Do Chu's favorite porridge, must be simmered for 40 minutes for the rice grains to burst.* He went to find my landlord. The landlord said I had already checked out, and when I left, he cleaned it up and there was nothing left. He went to the wedding dress shop again. The staff said the deposit for that wedding dress had been returned a long time ago, and the remaining amount had not yet been paid. He came to the place where we first met, the halls of a university. That year I was in third year and was the MC for a club event. He said he was sitting in the second row, and when he heard me read the lines, he thought, "This girl has a really good voice." He later told me it was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. And now he speaks, it's the most beautiful voice he's ever heard in his life, but he lost it. He bought back the wedding dress that I returned. I don't know how much money he spent. Colleagues said he hung it in his dressing room and looked at it every day. * Another period of time passed, and I received an email. The sender is an unfamiliar name. But the name signed at the end of the email is Chu Au Vi. *“Yeu Yeu. I know you won't answer my call. I can only use this method to find you. You've been sued. Crimes of commercial fraud, property appropriation, and illegal transfer of customer information. The company demanded compensation from her, and customers also sued her. I don't have that much money. Her house is blocked, Tham Do Chu cannot help at all
, he said his company was also having problems. Now no one can help her anymore. Yeu Yeu, you can respect the old friendship..."* The moment I passed by that name, my stomach contracted.
“Yeu Yeu”.
The day she turned the cards over in the office, she called me "Trinh Yeu". Use the cold, thin tone of a winner to speak to a loser. Now that there's no way around it, I picked up this familiar name from the trash and cleaned it up.