Chapter 3 — Twice Do Thanh Hoa

My mother took the phone and conveniently turned on the speakerphone. A young woman's voice clearly came from the other end of the line: "Excuse me, are these Lam Tri Ha's parents? I'm calling from the admissions office of Tsinghua University." "The deadline for admission procedures has passed, but up to now, Lam Tri Ha has not yet come to school to register." “We want to confirm whether he has waived his admission status or not?” My mother was stunned for two seconds, her voice immediately softened: "Teacher, she... she has some work to do so she's delayed. Can you extend it for a few more days?" The other person paused for a moment, his voice cold and decisive: "I am extremely sorry. According to regulations, failure to come to check-in after the deadline will be considered an automatic waiver. The school does not reserve student status." “Today is the last day.” The phone made a beep and then cut off. The smile on my mother's face disappeared little by little. Ten minutes later, she ran like crazy into the police station lobby. "Comrade police! I withdraw the application! I will not prosecute anymore!" “Can you let my daughter go?” "The school just called! If she doesn't come to enroll, her eligibility will be revoked!" All eyes in the hall immediately focused on her. The square-faced police officer raised his head from the pile of files and looked at her silently for two seconds. After that, he picked up the decision to make a case with a bright red seal on the table, turned it towards her and then coldly pushed it in front of her: "Before making a case, you can withdraw at any time, just sign your name." “But now that the case has been entered into the system, there is no longer any possibility of cancellation.” 4 On the seventh day, I finally walked out of the detention camp. The youngest aunt is waiting outside the door. As soon as she saw me, she immediately ran to hug me tightly. Aunt cried and said: "You've endured the pain, Ha Ha." I shook my head, said nothing. After I pushed open the door and entered the house, my mother immediately stood up from the sofa. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face was haggard. She trembled and reached out to hug me: "Ha Ha, I'm home. Mom..." But I just leaned away to avoid her touch. While her arm stiffened in mid-air, I walked straight through the living room, entered my room and locked the door. Outside, it was as silent as death. Then came the sobs that my mother tried to suppress. And my father didn't even dare to say a complete sentence. He just sat on the sofa in the living room, silently smoking cigarettes all night in front of the ashtray. The next morning, I went to school. In the office, Ms. Chu held my hand, tears kept falling. "Tri Ha, I'm sorry..." Her voice choked up, almost unable to continue: "The admissions office called. The application deadline has passed, Thanh Hoa's student status... has been completely canceled." Hearing the bad news that was already expected, I tightened my shirt, not shedding a single tear. “Don't be afraid!” Ms. Chu suddenly stood up, wiped her tears, gritted her teeth and said: "I will go and beg the principal! I must get you a place to study again!" She led me back and forth between the staff room and the principal's office. She completed all the procedures and even offered to pay for my re-study tuition. I shook my head and just replied: "I can take care of it myself." I returned to twelfth grade, sitting in the last seat next to the window. But the gossip kept coming: "It's her. She got 708 points on the exam but stole money from the house and was arrested." "It was my biological parents who reported it to the police. Even Thanh Hoa refused to accept it and still had the face to go back to school?" Unusual eyes like needles in the back. I opened the book, risked my life burying myself in the stacks of exam questions, completely not paying attention to anything outside. From that day on, I thoroughly used cold silence to treat my parents. Every day after I finished school, my mother would change the dishes, cook a full table of hot food and wait anxiously at the table. I didn't look once. I would rather swallow dry dumplings in the canteen or buy myself two packs of cheap noodles than eat grandma's cooking. That night, I took a cup of noodles to the kitchen to get hot water. Mom suddenly ran out of the living room and stopped right in front of my door. Tears swirled around in her eyes. She looked at me almost pleadingly: “Ha Ha, please tell me something

ok? Even if you scold me a few times, it's okay." I stopped walking, holding the cup of noodles, looking at her coldly. “What do you want me to say?” While she was stunned, I leaned over and squeezed into the room and slammed the door right in her face, without any care. Under the light of the desk lamp, the notebook that recorded my mistakes from last year was flipped over until the edges were curled. I clenched the black ink pen in my hand, my knuckles turned slightly white. 5 The first month of studying again, the atmosphere in the house was as stuffy as an ice cellar. My mother changed the dishes every day, carefully observing my face. Even when my father smoked cigarettes, he had to hide on the balcony, not daring to make a sound. But that late appeasement only made me feel nauseous. There was guilt in their eyes, but more of an impatience to pretend like everything never happened. I really can't stand it anymore. Staying in this house for one more second, I also felt pain in my chest. I opened my phone and called my youngest aunt: