Kim admired those who were generous – giving without keeping score. To her, giving wasn’t just about money, but also knowledge, experience, and skills. Sharing these could save someone from repeating the same mistakes, sparing them wasted time, effort, and of course Money – is always the “painful tuition fee” we end up paying after costly mistakes. But free knowledge-sharing is one thing; actually rolling up your sleeves, putting brainpower into problem-solving, and crafting solutions for a real case – that’s a whole different story. And in that second scenario, paying a fee is simply common sense.
The other day, she rang up a consulting firm. Truth be told, she already knew the answer – she just wanted to see how they would handle it. It wasn’t a complicated issue; a quick Google search would have turned up countless results.
Kim was shocked at the lawyer lady’s tone:
“That’s simple, really!”
“But do you want me to advise you, or to do it for you?”
“Either way, you need to understand – NO ONE has time to give you free advice!”
…bla bla bla..,all served with a lemon-sour attitude. 🍋
Annoyed, Kim finally snapped:
“Fine, Here – free of charge, let me answer on your behalf!”
“‘Facilities’ can’t just be stuffed into two little words like ‘simple,’ as you put it.”
“The new regulation only came into effect five days ago. Maybe you’ve been too busy turning people away to notice, but Decree 125/2024/NĐ-CP lays out in excruciating detail the dossiers, procedures, and conditions for establishing a study-abroad consulting center. And yes – it still requires facilities. That part wasn’t magically erased like in Decree 46/2017 or Decree 135/2018.”
“And those facility requirements? They’ve got to meet specific standards like… (Kim casually listed them off).”
“The key thing you need to understand: the ‘Application Dossier’ section might not spell it out, but when you cross-check with the ‘Conditions’ section, it’s right there. Meaning, if you want your application to be both legal and complete, you need to combine the two.”
“Now… is that clear enough for you?”
The other end of the line went dead silent. After a long pause, she mumbled something incoherent.
Because the truth is, she wasn’t wrong. Kim understood exactly what she needed. We’re not angels – heck, even angels need food, water, and the basics of life, don’t they?
Kim thought to herself: If refusing free consultation was indeed the firm’s policy, she could have said it more professionally, for example:
“I’m sorry, but our company’s policy is to provide advice only based on documents submitted by clients. If you could kindly send me your company license or relevant information, we’ll then provide a fee quote for you to consider.”
“Alternatively, our firm is partnered with a hotline service, charged at 10,000 VND per minute. If you agree to this rate, we’ll arrange an lawyer to assist you immediately.”
Still a refusal of free service, but much more polished – and far less irritating.
Kim admitted, sometimes free sharing cost her time and interfered with her real work. But as long as it brought her joy, she was willing. It depended on the situation: if someone asked about something she knew off the top of her head – or knew exactly where to look in the sea of laws – she wouldn’t hesitate to reply. If it was a poor villager, someone without means to pay, or a woman drowning in grief after her husband left her for another, she would still give her time, even on weekends meant for family or writing.
But Kim was no “encyclopedia.” Kim wasn’t all-knowing. For cases requiring real research, preparation, or drafting, Kim would say politely:
“Are you willing to pay for my time?”
Because, just as one must eat to live, charging a fee in those cases was only natural.
Kim disliked seeing people demand free labor, even from friends or family. To her, paying was a way of honoring someone’s effort and responsibility. Taking away another’s time without compensation – under the name of love, kinship, or loyalty – was, at its core, selfish. That time could have earned them income, advanced their career, or been spent on personal passions.
She recalled countless times at administrative offices, where officials – whose very job was to answer citizens’ questions – would snap:
“Go look it up online yourself!”
“Why don’t you just read the law, huh?”
Though they knew the process inside out, they refused to explain. Some even barked at people in public. She remembered fresh graduates sweating, running from one office to another, asking four or five staffers – and still walking away without a clear answer.
Faced with such people, Kim sometimes wanted to retort:
“Lady, are you on your period?” or “Sir, has your wife been starving you for days?”
Of course, Kim also met kind, smiling officers whose warmth made people feel respected. They would carefully write notes, explain corrections, and offer guidance with genuine care. Citizens would leave satisfied, and Kim thought: this person will go far. If there were a feedback form, she’d give them ten out of ten.
She even knew a colleague, an excellent lawyer in an international firm, who never stinted on advice. That, in a field where even having your file read – just read! – cost thousands of dollars. Legal consultation comes at a premium – a single session with a lawyer can cost you hundreds of dollars. That’s not just a fee, that’s the price of expertise.
It was like the bookstore: some books are shrink-wrapped, forbidden to open until purchased. That wrap represents the author’s blood, sweat, and devotion. Intellectual property law exists to protect such creativity.
Long story short: You’re more than welcome to enjoy Kim’s blog for free. But if you decide to use Kim’s images or intellectual property for commercial purposes – well, that comes with a price tag!
Otherwise…Kim might just see you in court. >< ”**
