Chapter 3 — When he returned, the house had been transferred to someone else's name

When the plane landed in Vancouver, it was just dawn outside. Cool moist air flows into the nasal cavity, bringing with it the smell of young grass and the salty taste of the sea. I took a deep breath. The heavy feeling that had been pressing in my chest for the past five years seemed to disappear with that breath. People from the settlement service company were waiting outside the airport. In my hand is a sign with my name on it. It was a very agile Chinese woman, surnamed Liu.

“Miss To, welcome to Vancouver.”

She smiled and took the suitcase from me.

"The apartment has been arranged. It's my friend's house, you can move in right away. You should settle down first, we'll slowly consider the rest."

“Thank you, Ms. Liu.”

“What's the point of being polite?”

Cars drive on spacious roads. On both sides are rows of tall maple trees and lovely independent houses. Everything here is different from in the country. The sky is higher. Clouds are whiter. The pace of life is also slower. I looked at the scenery outside the window that kept moving backwards. I know, a completely new life is gradually opening before my eyes. The process of settling down in life was easier than I thought. The apartment is located on the top floor of a building. There is an extremely large ground-level glass window, enough to see nearly half of the city at night. Ms. Luu helped me handle all the initial procedures. From opening a bank account to registering for a social security number. Everything is arranged in order. I started to learn how to live in this place. Go to the supermarket to buy food yourself. Trying to read English labels that I couldn't understand before. Go to the community library, get a card to borrow books, then sit there all afternoon. Take a walk in the coastal park, watching flocks of seagulls circling in the sky. I don't try to force myself to forget the past. But those old people and stories seem to naturally fade away. Like a cold from a long time ago. You know it happened. Still remember the uncomfortable feeling that day. But the body has completely recovered. No longer leaves any sequelae. Sometimes I still think of Chu Minh. Counting the time, he would have "triumphantly" returned to the country by now. I wonder what expression he will have? When the “Okay” I sent him turned out to be a perfect lie. As he pulled his suitcase and stood in front of the door that once belonged to us. But the key in hand can no longer open that lock. When a completely strange man opened the door, looked at him with searching eyes and asked:

“Who are you looking for?”

I can even imagine the change in his face. From the smug look of someone who thinks he is being generous and forgives. To the surprise when the key cannot open the door. Then there was shock and anger when learning the truth. In the end, there was a feeling of complete darkness and humiliation. The process must have been very interesting. Unfortunately I didn't get to see it with my own eyes. But that's not important. The important thing is... That script was written by me. As for me, I was the only audience member who left the theater before the play ended. The first month in Vancouver, I started looking for something to do. I picked up my previous expertise in the country. Start getting some freelance translation jobs online. The amount of work is not much. But enough for the page experience life. I even signed up for a pottery class. Learn how to turn a lump of clay on a spinning wheel into a cup, bowl or vase. When your hands are covered in mud. All attention is focused on the small item in front of you. There will be an unprecedented feeling of peace in your heart. One day. I'm at the pottery workshop, carefully editing a vase I just finished shaping. The phone suddenly rang. It was a strange phone number calling from within the country. I hesitated for a few seconds then picked up the phone. On the other end of the line, a voice sounded so angry that it was almost distorted. It's Chu Minh. I turned on speakerphone, put the phone aside and continued with the work at hand.

“To Tinh, where are you?!”

He roared.

“Where is home?!”

“Where is my house?!”

"On what basis do you dare to sell my house? Who gave you that courage?!"

The volume was so loud that the phone case vibrated. The other students in the workshop all turned their heads to look at me. I smiled and apologized to them, then took the phone and went out.

“Chu Minh.”

I calmly called him by name.

“First, it's not your house.”

"On the certificate of ownership, there is only my name. The notarized gift document is still in my hand."

“Second, I sell my own assets, without anyone's permission.”

The other end of the line immediately fell silent. Dead silence. It seemed like he was choked by my cold, calm tone. More than ten seconds later, he found his voice again. But the momentum has weakened significantly.

"What do you mean? To Tinh, don't play tricks on me!"

“Do you think running away is enough?”

“I tell you, this is an infringement of the common property of husband and wife!”

“I will sue you!”