Chapter 8 — Whose Seat Belongs To

Everything was as if nothing had ever happened. But we all know, something has changed. After eating, Co Hoai received a call, it seemed like the company had an urgent matter. He hung up, looked at me a little apologetically: "Sister, I have to go." "Go, work is more important." He reached the door, turned around, and suddenly said: "Sister, don't compete for tickets in the future." I was a bit stunned. He smiled, with a bit of mischief in his smile. "From now on, every show of yours, area A, row 1, number 1, will forever be yours. You just need to bring your ID card and go straight to your seat." "That's your private seat, no one can take it away." After saying that, he waved goodbye and turned to leave. I stood in place, watching its shadow disappear into the corner of the hallway, not moving for a long time. Somewhere in my heart, a warm, soft feeling filled me. I'm still music producer Kieu Van who lives alone, every day at home writing music and mixing music. After that performance, I suddenly became famous overnight. Walking on the street, people sometimes recognize me, ask for autographs, or take pictures. My Weibo also turned into a small "confession hole". Many people who have suffered injustice come to my inbox to confide. Seeing my story, they said, made them believe that justice may come late, but it will not be absent. I rarely reply, but I read every message carefully. As for the Vuong family, their end was even more tragic than what Co Hoai predicted. Vuong Thi Group went bankrupt and dissolved. General Director Vuong was sentenced to 20 years in prison on many charges. Giang Lam for his involvement in money laundering was also sentenced to 5 years in prison. Villas and supercars were all sold to pay off debt. Tieu Vu's son was sent back to his hometown to live with distant relatives. It is said that in his new school, he became taciturn and did not dare to bully anyone anymore. A year later, Co Hoai started his first world tour. The first stop was in the small town where we grew up together. I'm still sitting in seat A, block A, row 1, number 1. Co Hoai sings a lot of old songs, songs I once wrote for her, accompanying the two sisters through difficult times. When singing the last song - Home - he walked down the stage, walked in front of me, handed me the microphone. "Sister, let's sing together." I took the microphone and stood next to him. "No matter how far you go, no matter how tired you are, there is always a place... waiting for you to return..." Our voices echoed throughout the small stadium, warm and lasting forever. 【Full text】