Chapter 22 — Trainee Shreds Dress For 8 Million Yuan, Asked For Compensation Right On The Red Carpet

One year later. Tinh Dieu's shaping center moved to a new building. Right in front of the door hangs a large sign. TINH HA CREATION CENTER This name was proposed by the board of directors. At first I didn't agree. Manh Tuyet Chau only said one sentence:

“Just use it.”

“So that every day they look up and remember what this place was built from.”

So that name was kept. Tong An An has become executive manager. Mouth still sharp as a knife. Scolding people still doesn't respect anyone. But the register in her hand was so meticulously managed that no one could refute it. Every outfit. Each piece of jewelry. Every time I go in and out of the warehouse. All clearly recorded. Even the hour and minute don't vary by a second. Someone new to the job lamented:

“An An, I just took the hairpin.”

Tong An An immediately slammed the notebook on the table.

“A pin is also an asset.”

“Want to get it?”

“Want to pay?”

“Want to breathe?”

“Well that's free.”

The whole room laughed loudly. Duong Duyet passed the probationary period. The best person in the center now doesn't have to recognize the brand. Not color matching. It's checking the access card. One time an emerging artist tried to sneak into the formalwear warehouse. Haven't reached the door yet. Duong Duyet appeared behind.

“Where is the password?”

The opponent was bewildered.

“What?”

“If you don't have the password, you can't get in.”

“This is a modeling room, not a sightseeing area.”

After that. Everyone calls her "the living gate". Even Tong An An had to admit it.

“This girl holds the door more reliably than an electronic lock.”

Tham Tri Y became a regular customer of the center. It's not because she lacks shape. But because every time there is a new costume. She wanted to come and see first. One time she stood in front of a dress studded with silver stars. Looked for a long time. Then ask me:

“Do you see it?”

“Since the Tinh Ha incident, they look at clothes with different eyes.”

I looked in her direction. An intern is carefully putting on gloves before touching the gown. The movements are still clumsy. But very seriously. I nodded slightly.

“Maybe this is what Tinh Ha really left behind.”

Van Doan Gia is also growing more and more. The Non-Heritage Red Carpet program is held regularly every year. Artists were once forgotten. People who live their whole lives in embroidery workshops. People who have never stepped on stage. Invited to appear under the lights one by one. Some people have white hair. Some people's hands are full of calluses. Some people cried as soon as they stepped onto the red carpet. But no one has to hide anymore. One afternoon in late autumn. Manh Tuyet Chau brought a box of needles and thread to the center. She sat under the window. Sunlight falls on silver hair. I made tea for her. She looked at the sign outside the door.

“Star Ha Center.”

“That doesn't sound bad.”

“Teacher once said he didn't like being named after a dress.”

She took a sip of tea.

“It's different now.”

“That's not the name of a dress anymore.”

“So what is it?”

She looked at the people busy in the office. Tong An An is arguing with the supplier. Duong Duyet is checking the inventory book. A new group of employees is learning how to preserve gemstones. She laughed very softly.

“It's a lesson.”

“And also a reminder.”

I received a parcel. No sender recorded. Inside there was only one card. The handwriting is very familiar. It belongs to Lam Kieu Kieu.

"I have paid the first compensation."

"I Still learning to treat each piece of clothing with kindness."

"It will probably take me many years to pay off all my debt."

"But for the first time in my life, I understood what I was paying for was more than just money."

"I owe an apology."

"I owe you a lesson."

"And I owe a lot of people respect."

The card is not long. At the end of the letter there is only one sentence.

"Thank you for not letting me make any more mistakes."

I folded the card. Place in drawer. No reply. Don't throw it away either. The imaging center had most of its lights turned off. I was the last person to leave the office. Walk across the lobby. His eyes unconsciously stopped in front of the large sign. CENTER FOR CREATING THE STAR GALAXY Under yellow light. Those three words quietly glowed. I suddenly remembered the Milky Way that burned down twenty-three years ago. Remembering Tinh Ha being shredded in the dressing room. Remember the people who were forced to bow their heads. Ever been wrongly accused. Once robbed of light. Then one by one everyone stood up. Keep walking. Like Manh Tuyet Chau once said. Fire can burn the thread. But the needle cannot be burned completely. Just like the truth. May arrive late. But eventually you will find your way back. And where the last light still shines. Tinh Ha is still sparkling. Outside the window, the city lights were still shining brightly. I suddenly remembered the selfie that Lam Kieu Kieu posted in the group chat a year ago. At that time, she naively thought that just by cutting her dress short, she could take on the glory that belonged to someone else. Later, everyone understood a truth. The stolen light will never illuminate itself. It only makes the dirty things hidden behind them more clearly exposed. Tong An An closed the registration book.

“Miss Duong, is the red carpet tomorrow okay?”

I looked at the long black and yellow dress standing quietly on the mannequin.

“Okay or not, we have to see how we do tonight.”

Duong Duyet picked up the steam iron.

“So let's begin.”

The new assistant also quickly put on gloves and stood next to her, waiting for assignment. I opened the needle box. Inside, the old silver needle lies quietly like a slender river. I picked it up. The first needle gently penetrates the fabric. The thread is pulled along. The light also seemed to be pulled along. After Tinh Ha, there will be many long nights. There will be many dresses left. So many stories. Many people need protection. But now... We are no longer afraid of the dark. END Side story ends. A dress can be burned down. A dress can be shredded. But respect for work, for art and for truth is not. Some people took twenty-three years to regain their name. Some people pay the price of their future to learn what respect is. Someone was pulled away from the light. Someone stepped out of the darkness. As for Tinh Ha... Finally, it is no longer the name of a formal outfit. It becomes a reminder for everyone who enters Tinh Ha Plastic Surgery Center: Never underestimate the enthusiasm of others. Because behind every stitch... is a human life. 🌌✨