This was the first time I’d seen my biological mother face-to-face since I was six years old. My father stood right beside her, his expression significantly more composed, though he couldn’t quite mask the scheming calculation glinting in his eyes.

I stared at them head-on. “I heard you’ve been looking all over for me. Whatever you have to say, spit it out.”

From a distance, Lam Ngon Hoan had already raised her phone, recording everything. Professional execution.

My biological mother spoke up first:

“Bui Muoi… we heard you got into Peking University and that you’re doing incredibly well for yourself. Now that you’ve made a success of your life…”

I let out a cold laugh, cutting her off cleanly:

“So you expect me to support the two of you now, is that it?”

The room instantly fell dead silent. The two of them exchanged a glance, their eyes brimming with a sickening sense of entitlement, as if they’d already won. My father chimed in immediately:

“Children have a legal duty to support their parents. It’s written in the law. You can’t just abandon us.”

I stared at them, witnessing the absolute pinnacle of shamelessness for the first time in my life.

Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a thick stack of documents and tossed them straight onto the table before them.

“Take a long, hard look. This is my official family registry.”

I slapped down another stack—thick, printed in full color.

“These are legal documents. And this is the statutory code.”

I pointed directly at the black-and-white text.

“My sole legal guardian is my uncle. He is the only person legally tied to me. As for the two of you, you have zero relation to my life.”

Taking a deep breath, I continued:

“The law clearly dictates that once a child is legally adopted by another party, all legal rights and obligations with the biological parents are permanently terminated. Now that I’m an adult, I have even less obligation to support you.”

I chuckled under my breath.

“Do you know what that means? It means from start to finish, I don’t owe either of you a single dime.”

My father slammed his fist onto the table in a surge of rage.

“Don’t you get cocky! I’ll blast this all over the internet! I’ll let the entire world see what kind of ungrateful monster you really are! If you won’t support me, I’ll drag you down with me! And don’t think that cripple of an uncle of yours will have a peaceful day at his diner, either!”

Hearing his desperate threat, I almost found it funny. I turned my head toward the distance:

“Ngon Hoan, did you catch all of that?”

Lam Ngon Hoan gave me a quick thumb’s-up. “Crisp 4K, full HD.”

The color instantly drained from both their faces. I locked eyes with them, my voice slowing down, each word dropping like lead:

“Back then, you threw me away—a helpless six-year-old child—dumping me in the middle of nowhere like a piece of worthless trash. All these years, did either of you care for a single second whether I lived or died? Tuition, food, clothes—did you ever contribute a single penny? Not one.”

A cold smirk tugged at my lips.

“You weren’t there to suffer with me, yet now you want a piece of my success? Where on earth do you get the nerve?”

I gestured casually toward the exit.

“If you want to make a scene, go right ahead. But before you post a single word online, keep one thing in mind: do you know what I have? I have a bright future. A pristine reputation. Powerful people standing right behind me. And what do you have? A pathetic past built on being dumped and discarded. Make your choice. If you want to play dirty, I’ll gladly play with you until the very end.”

Without waiting for a response, I called over security. “Please escort them out.”

As the guards dragged them away, kicking and screaming, I let out a long, heavy breath of relief. Lam Ngon Hoan jogged over, beaming. “Girl, you were absolute ice cold.”

Before I could even reply, a deeply familiar, raspy voice bellowed from behind us: “BUI CHI!! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?! STOP CALLING ME YOUR MOM!!”

I jumped, whipping my head around. My uncle was standing right there, his face as dark as a thundercloud.

I frantically grabbed Lam Ngon Hoan’s wrist. “Run!”

After that day, I never bothered paying attention to my biological parents again. But Lam Thua Dich would occasionally pass along updates about them.

Having been ousted from the ranks of the ultra-wealthy, both of them struggled desperately to cling to whatever scraps of survival they could find. My biological mother landed a job at a nursing home, where she eventually struck up an affair with an eighty-year-old man. Her life was far from easy, and she was often seen carrying fresh bruises. My father got caught meddling in another family’s marriage and was beaten so severely he ended up partially paralyzed.

When I heard the news, I stayed quiet for a moment, then let out a soft laugh.

You reap what you sow.