Chapter 22 — Two People Get 748 Points

For large expenses that were misused, Tham Duc Thang and Luu My Quyen signed a refund agreement. The day they signed, Luu My Quyen cried a lot. She asked me: "Thanh Hoa, will you still come home in the future?" I looked at the household registration book she gave me. The thing she used to threaten me was finally back in my hands. I said, “That's not my house.” Tears fell from her eyes. “I raised you for seventeen years.” I said softly: "Mom also took away seventeen years from me." “We cannot be considered even.” “So leave it to the law.” Her whole body staggered. Tham Duc Thang supported her, but did not continue to blame me. Maybe he finally understood. I am no longer the little girl standing in front of the kitchen door, holding a plate of fruit, waiting for them to look at me once. The day the admission notice was sent, she came with me to receive it. The red envelope is very thin. But when I hold it in my hand, it feels heavier than all the self-pity over the years. Tsinghua University. Tham Thanh Hoa. Full scholarship. Special training program. The homeroom teacher also came. She hugged me. “Thanh Hoa, keep moving forward.” “There's no need to give in anymore.” I nodded. "Yes." “I won't give in anymore.” One day before school started, Tham Nhuoc Duong sent me a text message. She said she ended up studying at a normal first-rate university in another province. She said she hates me. She said that if it weren't for me, she would still be the daughter that makes the Tham family most proud. After reading it, I directly blocked her. Because she was wrong. It's not because of me that she lost her light. But because her light was originally supported by things stolen from others. When the train started moving, she stood on the platform waving at me. I sat by the window, watching the city recede backwards. Another news notification appeared on the phone. Tham Thanh Hoa, valedictorian of the natural science class in the whole province, went to Tsinghua University today to enroll. I turn off the screen. The sunlight outside the window fell on the palm of my hand. I suddenly remembered the day university entrance exam scores were announced. Downstairs, the Tham family lit three sets of fireworks. Red firecracker corpses covered the ground. At that time, no one asked me how many points I scored. But it's okay. From now on, in my life I don't need them to ask. I will speak up for myself. Walk on your own. Stand alone in the light.