Chapter 5 — Thien Kim Really Doesn't Listen to Comments

“Chi Chi, why?” Lam Chi was held on the sofa by two policemen, his hair was half messed up, his face had no expression. Hearing her mother ask her, she suddenly burst out laughing, laughing so much that her shoulders were shaking. "Why? Everyone asked me why? Everyone took everything from me, now asking me why?" She suddenly raised her head, her eyes were red, her voice was as sharp as a piece of broken porcelain cutting through glass. "What happens after she comes back? Everyone revolves around her! Mom, you don't even let me pull your sleeves anymore! Dad, don't even look at me anymore! I don't want even one! Brother, you were on my side in everything, but now? You teach me to understand!" She pointed at me, her nails almost poking my face. "And you've been serving me for how many years? She just came and wanted to take away your inheritance! You've been the Lam family's daughter for eighteen years, so why do you have to go away when she comes back?" fall down. Lam Dien stood at the door. The hand dropped to the side, tightening and then relaxing, relaxing and then tightening again. In the end, he could only choke out one sentence: "So what about dad? Has he ever wronged you after all these years? Do you keep wanting him to die like that?" Lam Chi's laughter stopped. She looked at Lam Dien, then suddenly turned to face me. "Have you known for a long time?" She asked me, her eyes full of unwillingness and resentment. "Actually, the person who wanted dad to die was you, right? It was clear that he said you would listen! Why didn't you denounce me?" Halfway through her words, she suddenly stopped, her pupils constricted. As if something in her head suddenly exploded, she held her head and screamed. "You too, right?" She rushed towards me, being held tightly by the police. "You too have that thing! You too! Why don't you listen to it! Why don't you listen!" She struggled and screamed, her face was covered in snot and tears, struggling to the point of losing her shape. I didn't move, standing in place, shoulder to shoulder between the two policemen, looking at her. After she shouted that sentence, the commentary was completely quiet. It was like a hand pressed the pause button. Each line of text before my eyes froze in mid-air, then line by line shattered, turned into ash, and disappeared. I blinked, my vision finally clear. When being taken away, Lam Chi was still screaming. "Do it again! Do it again! I want to do it again!" The echo in the hallway lasted for a long time. Dad lay in the hospital bed, as if he had suddenly aged ten years. He was silent for a long time, and in the end he only said one sentence: "Just follow the legal process." Mom held Dad's hand, silent tears streaming down her face, but she didn't shake her head. In my previous life, I cried and begged them to use the crime of human trafficking to prosecute the Trieu family. They were afraid that Lam Chi would be hurt, afraid that doing something big would affect Lam Chi's reputation, so they refused. In this life, their prosecution was actually neat and tidy. Crime of human trafficking, crime of intentionally killing people, crime of inciting to commit crimes, many crimes combined. Trieu Kien Quoc was sentenced to life in prison. Because Lam Chi had just turned eighteen when he committed the crime and had an accomplice circumstance, he was sentenced to twelve years. On the day of sentencing, I went to court. Lam Chi stood on the defendant's chair, his hair was cut short, wearing a gray-blue prison outfit. It's only been a few days and she's already so skinny that she's almost deformed. She turned her head to see me, her lips moving. I couldn't hear what she said clearly, but I recognized that mouth. She said: do it again, next time I will win. I turned around without expression and left. I finished the remaining half of my twelfth grade year at Thanh Nam International High School. I took the university entrance exam well, and then filled out my application to enter a university

the South. Before the first day of school, my grandmother called me. "Nien Niem, do you really want to go to such a far away place to study?" I picked up the phone and paused for a moment. "Grandma, is your health still good?" "Oh, good, don't worry. Your parents are really confused, making you feel resentful." Grandma's voice came from the receiver, carrying a bit of hoarseness typical of the elderly. "When you go to the South, you have to eat and drink properly. If you don't have enough money, tell grandma." I said yes. After hanging up the phone, I placed the phone on the table and looked at the southern sky outside the window. The sky is very blue, the clouds are very white, unlike the forever dark hallway in that old house in the North. During my four years in college, I almost never went home. During the holidays, only send one message, the content should be polite and respectful. My parents called me a few times and wanted me to come home. I said I was busy with school and had an internship during the vacation. They advised me a few times and then stopped persisting.