In the evening, the Lam family villa was strangely quiet.
Nhu Nguyet stood in front of the office door on the second floor, gently knocking three times.
A steady, emotionless voice came from inside: — Come in.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Lam Thien Duong was sitting in a chair, his shirt rolled up, his face serious and cold, but his gaze lingered on her for a few seconds.
— What's the matter?
Nhu Nguyet approached, her eyes calm, her voice soft yet firm: — I want to... skip a grade.
The atmosphere in the room suddenly seemed to pause for a moment.
Lam Thien Duong raised an eyebrow slightly, his sharp eyes observing her more closely.
— You've only been at Liugong Academy for two days. Skip a grade? Why?
Nhu Nguyet looked straight at him, neither avoiding nor appearing to plead: — I don't have much time. I don't want to waste another year on things I already know well. I have the ability, and I want to use it.
After a moment, Lam Thien Duong set his pen down on the table. He stood up, walked closer, his deep black eyes piercing into the girl in front of him: — Do you think I will believe you?
— I don't need you to believe me. I just need... a chance.
As soon as those words were spoken, Lam Thien Duong suddenly laughed, a very light laugh, unclear whether it was praise or mockery.
He returned to his desk, opened his computer, and typed a few commands.
— Teacher So just sent the competency evaluation report. The results are not bad… But skipping grades is not a simple matter. If you can do it, the school will consider making an exception. If not — you will bear the consequences yourself.
Nhu Nguyet nodded without hesitation: — Okay.
Lam Thien Duong said nothing more. But in his gaze just now… there seemed to be something changing.
It was not concern. Nor was it trust. But a genuine curiosity — after all… what was this younger sister, once disliked by the whole family, hiding?
During the first period activity, the class was particularly chaotic when the door opened once again.
This time it was not the homeroom teacher, but a middle-aged man in a gray suit, wearing black glasses – looking more like a businessman than a teacher. He placed a stack of documents on the teacher's desk, his eyes scanning each student as if reviewing their files in his mind.
— Lam Nhu Nguyet. Please come to the conference room.
The class fell silent. Nhu Nguyet stood up, said nothing, and did not ask why. She walked out of the classroom with an unusually calm demeanor – as if she had known this would happen.
On the top floor of the administration building, a small classroom was set aside. Inside was a table, a thick stack of exam papers, and three examiners.
A male voice rang out:
Như Nguyệt simply nodded lightly, without a word of objection.
When the countdown began, her hand started to glide quickly over the paper. The advanced math questions from 11th and 12th grade posed no challenge for her. Chemistry, Physics, Biology, even the two-page social essay – she handled everything swiftly.
Behind the glass, a man in a black suit stood with his arms crossed, watching through the camera. It was Mr. Sở – the homeroom teacher of the special 12A1 class.
— She's really doing it… – A math judge murmured.
— Not at all like a 10th-grade student.
After 70 minutes, Như Nguyệt put down her pen. She stood up, politely bowed her head, and then left. As soon as the door closed, the room erupted.
— Maximum score. Not a single mistake. Her writing is sharper than that of students competing for city-level excellence.
Mr. Sở held the stack of papers, his eyes narrowing:
— The 12A1 class might… soon have a new student.
At the same time, in the office of CEO of Lâm Corporation.
Lâm Thiên Dương received a report sent directly from the Lưu Quang Academy system.
He quickly glanced at the title line:
Report on advanced placement results – student Lâm Như Nguyệt.
Initially, he thought his younger sister was just trying to attract attention again. But when he opened to the results page...
His hand froze.
Math – 100/100. Chemistry – 100/100. Literature – 9.5/10. Completion speed: 70 minutes.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, not in a smile, but with a calculating expression.
— She really did advance…
He picked up the phone and called the principal directly:
— Get that girl into 12th grade. Put her in the special class. If she wants to play, let her play big.
The voice on the other end hesitated slightly:
— But, sir, this matter…
— I've already said.
His voice deepened:
— Move. Her. Up.
It has been a week since Nhu Nguyet was officially transferred to the 12th grade of the Luu Quang Academy. During that short time, she made no noise. She arrived at school on time, completed her assignments, and had outstanding results without being ostentatious.
In the evening, at the Lam family villa.
She had just finished reading a foreign economic document when the door to her room swung open. It was her older brother – Lam Thien Duong.
He didn't knock and showed no signs of being polite. Walking in, he leaned against her desk, crossed his arms, and asked:
"Now that you're in 12th grade, can you keep up?"
Nhu Nguyet looked up, her voice calm:
"It's okay. But a bit boring."
The answer made him pause for a moment before bursting into laughter, as if he had heard a joke:
"Boring? You've kept up with the 12th-grade curriculum in just a week and you still find it boring?"
She didn't laugh along. Her face remained very composed.
"In prison…" – she paused slightly, corrected herself – "I used to have a lot of free time. I read many books, including university textbooks. Now, the 12th-grade curriculum is nothing new to me."
Lam Thien Duong was slightly taken aback. The phrase "in prison" made him frown for a moment, but then he realized – no one could casually mention such a thing like that. Clearly… she had truly experienced that part of her life.
"So what do you plan to do?" – he asked, this time no longer smiling.
"I want to take the university entrance exam early. Economics. As soon as possible."
Lam Thien Duong stared at her, silent for a few seconds. The test from the other day flashed in his mind - coherent logic, solid thinking, even surpassing many university students.
She was no longer the same as before.
And now, seeing that calm, confident look in her eyes - he understood... Nhu Nguyet was not joking.
"Alright," he said, for the first time in a serious tone, "If you want, I will arrange it."
She looked at him, her expression devoid of emotion:
"Thank you."
Sunday morning.
In the living room of the Lam family's villa, the atmosphere seemed peaceful but was suffocating as if something was brewing beneath the surface.
As soon as Lam Thien Duong mentioned that Nhu Nguyet wanted to take the university entrance exam early, her parents - Mr. Lam Quoc Thinh and Mrs. Trinh Le Quyen - both furrowed their brows.
"The girl wants to take the university entrance exam?" - Mrs. Quyen smirked, placing her teacup down on the table indifferently - "I thought she just started sitting in 12th grade a few days ago?"
"She said the 12th-grade program is boring." - Lam Thien Duong repeated his sister's words, his tone calm.
"Boring?" - Mr. Thinh chuckled derisively, looking at his wife with sarcasm - "Does she think she's a genius?"
"As if just being allowed to go back to school for a few days makes her want to reach for the stars." - Mrs. Quyen shook her head - "If she can take the exam, fine, but does she think she'll become someone? Does she think she can get into a top school?"
Nhu Nguyet came down the stairs, just in time to hear all of that. She was not surprised. Nor was she sad.Her heart had long been hardened by that kind of contempt. If it were a past life, she would have gritted her teeth and endured, trying harder to gain recognition.
But now, she only smiled faintly.
"Mom and Dad don't need to worry." – she stood in the middle of the stairs, her gaze as cold as a winter lake – "I'm taking the exam to prove... that I deserve more than the label 'useless' that you've always thought of me."
"You—" – Mrs. Quyên stood up abruptly, her eyes clearly filled with anger – "Who do you think you're talking to?"
"To the person who should have been my biological mother." – she replied, her voice light yet sharp – "Unfortunately... it has never been that way."
The atmosphere in the living room instantly froze. Lâm Thiên Dương stood silently, his eyes narrowing slightly.
He said nothing, but inside... for the first time, he felt – the girl in front of him was no longer the weak Lâm Như Nguyệt of years past.