Chapter 21 — Three Hundred Twenty Eight Yuan Card

This is Duong Kien Hoa's second debt payment. Again ahead of schedule. I took a screenshot and sent it to my mother. Mom answered in two words:

“Got it.”

A few seconds later, my mother sent another message:

“Don't miss your meal.”

Late September. I participated in selecting a scientific research project in school. Chemical direction. During the past few days of preparing documents, I stayed up almost all night in the library. One day, almost ten o'clock at night, a strange number appeared on the phone. It's Duong Thien Tuong.

“Stop calling me cousin.”

“You can call me Thien Tuong.”

His voice is a bit low.

“Your father's third payment is due next month.”

“He told me to talk to you.”

“It won't be slow.”

“There's one more thing.”

He stopped for a few seconds.

“I stopped at the car dealership.”

I looked at that suitcase for a while. Light gray. Not the expensive kind. But it's no longer the old suitcase with peeling zippers that my mother used for ten years. Mom saw me first. Her eyes stopped for two seconds, then she walked a little faster.

“Have you been waiting long?”

“I just arrived.”

I reached out to receive the suitcase. Heavier than I thought.

“What is mom carrying that is so heavy?”

“There's not much.”

“Some food for you.”

I laughed.

“I'm in Beijing, not a refugee.”

“Beijing also has to eat.”

Mom said very seriously. Leaving the station, I called a car. After getting in the car, mom still looked out the window. High-rise buildings pass by row by row. Billboard. The line of cars is dense.

“This is your first time coming to Beijing, right?”

“How does it feel?”

Mom was silent for a few seconds.

“What else?”

I laughed out loud. The driver in front also laughed.

“Your mother is so realistic.”

Mom felt a bit embarrassed and turned her head to look out the window again. Arriving at the hotel, I dragged my suitcase into the room. Room is very small. A double bed. A table. A toilet just enough to turn around. Mom walked around, looked at the clothes rack and water heater and asked me:

“How much is one night?”

“One hundred and six.”

“Scholarship money is not meant to be spent like this.”

“I invited mom.”

Mom said no more. In the afternoon, I took my mother to school. In July, the sycamore trees in the school are green. Sunlight shines through the leaves on the road surface. Bicycles pass through each group. Someone is holding a laptop. Some people read documents while walking. Mom walks very slowly. Every now and then I turn my head to look at the buildings.

“This is the library.”

“This is a chemistry institute.”

“This is our dormitory.”

Mom nodded continuously. Don't talk much. But her eyes were much brighter than when she was at home. Passing by the department's notice board, I saw my name on the research project list. Mom also saw it. She stood still for a long time.

“I really studied here.”

Her voice was very light. So light that it almost melts in the wind. I turned to look at my mother. The woman who stood at the supermarket cashier counter for more than ten years... is now standing in the middle of Thanh Hoa school yard. Dark blue shirt. Old canvas shoes. Hair in a low bun. Lost in the crowd. But it makes me feel... This is the person who should appear in this place the most. In the evening, I took my mother to eat at the cafeteria. Mom held the tray of rice and followed me, everything she saw was new.

“The food here is cheaper than I thought.”

“I already told you.”

“A portion of meat like this would be more expensive in my hometown.”

I found a place to sit down. Mom ate a few bites then suddenly asked:

“Are you extreme?”

“Not extreme.”

“Honestly.”

“Sleep a bit at night Stop."

“How many hours?”

“… Some days four hours.”

Mom put down her chopsticks.

“It won't be like that in the future.”

“I know.”

“Knowing but not correcting.”

I smiled and gave my mother a piece of meat.

“Mom, eat.”

Mom looked at me. Looked for a long time. Then she said:

“You now…”

“It's different from being at home.”

I was stunned.

“Where is it different?”

“No more bowing.”

My heart trembled slightly. The sound of people talking around is very noisy. The sound of bowls and chopsticks clashing together. The sound of a chair being pulled. The sound of announcements in the cafeteria. But in that moment, I heard it strangely clearly. No more bowing. That evening, after dropping my mother off at the hotel, I walked back to school. Beijing at night is windy. Blowing through the trees, carrying the smell of grass and earth after the afternoon rain. The phone vibrates. It's a message from mom.

“The hotel is clean.”

One more news:

“Mom is very happy today.”

Then one last bit of news:

“If your father sees it now…”

“I'll probably show it off to the world.”

Not a big brand. But clean and neat. Mom looked at me up and down.

“I have more skin and more flesh.”

“The school cafeteria is delicious.”

“That's good.”

I took my mother's suitcase and pushed it towards the subway station.

“It's more convenient to take the train. Three stops to school.”

“Don't waste money taking a taxi.”

“I know.”

After placing my luggage at the hotel, I took my mother to school. When passing through Thanh Hoa gate, mother's steps slowed down. She stood next to the stone engraved with the school's name and looked for a long time. Say nothing. I took her through the lecture hall, the library, the cafeteria, and the laboratory building. Arriving in front of the laboratory area, mother stopped.

“Professor instructed me to work here?”

"Yes. Third floor.”

“Does he treat you well?”

“Okay then.”

At noon, I invited my mother to eat in the cafeteria. The food at Thanh Hoa is truly delicious. Mom held the tray and stood in front of the counter to order, wondering forever.

“How much is this braised meat?”

“Three and a half yuan a portion.”

“So cheap?”

“The school has subsidies.”

Mom ordered two salty dishes and one vegetable dish, a total of nine yuan. When she sat down to eat, she looked around the cafeteria. Students wear all kinds of clothes. People wearing branded backpacks. People wearing slippers.

“Are they all your classmates?”

“Mostly so.”

“Is someone bullying you?”

“Mom, this is a university, not a kindergarten.”

Mom said "yes" and then bowed her head to continue eating. In the afternoon, mother and daughter walked around the school. Arriving at the lotus pond, mother sat down on a stone bench and quietly looked at the green leaves covering the water surface.

“The other day, your father said that he would definitely take you to Beijing in the future.”

"He originally planned to wait for his child to finish college entrance exams and then the whole family of three would go on a trip."

“He even wrote a list: Forbidden City, Great Wall, Di Hoa Vien, Bac Dai, Thanh Hoa.”

“Thing Hoa is left for last.”

“He said, the most beautiful things must be seen last.”

I didn't speak up.

“Now you don't need to come visit anymore.”

“I already live here.”

Mom leaned back in the chair, looking at the dragonfly landing on the lotus leaf.

“If your father was still alive…”

“I probably show this off everywhere every day.”

When she said that, her voice had a relief that I had never heard before. It was like there was something weighing on my shoulders for so many years... It was finally put down. In the evening, I took my mother back to the hotel. While walking, my mother suddenly said:

"No matter where you go in the future, whether you live a good life or a difficult life, there is one thing you must remember."

“What?”

“Hand order What you earn is real.”

"As for what others give, no matter how good it sounds... you have to verify it before you believe it."

“Especially money.”

I laughed.

“Mom already said this. That night in my hometown, my mother told me."

“Having said that, I have to remember even more.”

“Remember for a lifetime.”

Mom pulled her suitcase and walked into the hotel lobby. I stood outside looking at his back. The dark blue shirt looks so gentle and neat under the sunset light. Mom's steps were still as steady as the day she went to the bank. Not fast. Not slow. Every step you step on the ground... you can clearly hear the echo.