Studying law across borders: A Vietnamese legal assistant's journey to PKU STL

Chu Anh Tài

My story does not begin in a classroom, it begins in transit — amid the hum of airports, the rush of high-speed trains, and taxis racing between appointments.

As a legal assistant for a Vietnamese firm dealing directly with Chinese clients across Beijing, Tianjin, Xiamen, Shanghai, and Hangzhou, China was once a blur of motion for me. My trips were fleeting, often lasting less than twenty-four hours, with the vast majority of my time spent simply moving from one venue to the next.

Yet, despite the pace, certain impressions lingered.

“I have to be honest — I loved the food,” I admit with a laugh. “I always looked forward to the meals.”

Between meetings, I discovered something unexpected: each city had its own distinct character. I tasted different regional flavors, observed unique culinary traditions, and felt the varying rhythms of local life. These brief encounters planted a quiet question in my mind: What would it be like to slow down and truly experience China?

Encouraged by my clients, I began to consider pursuing further studies in China, a country renowned for its highly competitive and rigorous education system. What started as curiosity soon evolved into a sense of purpose.

I realized that studying here would do more than just enhance my credentials. It would allow me to deeply understand the nation that is already shaping my professional future.

A city of contrasts

When I first arrived in Shenzhen, the contrasts were immediate and striking. On campus, delivery drones buzzed overhead — not as a spectacle, but as essential infrastructure. What once felt like a scene from a sci-fi movie had already become mundane.

“At first, I wondered what I was supposed to do here,” I recall. “Then I realize — this is just daily life. And that realization is what’s truly fascinating.”

Yet, beyond the technology, Shenzhen offered something unexpected: stillness. Unlike the teeming beaches I had visited elsewhere in Southeast Asia, Shenzhen’s sprawling coastline offered space, silence, and perspective.

“You can sit there all day,” I say. “Order a drink, watch the tide, and simply think.”

The city’s dual rhythm — rapid innovation meeting a quiet coastline — perfectly mirrored my own transition from visitor to resident.

Finding my footing

Settling in was smoother than I had anticipated. With translation features seamlessly integrated into WeChat and Alipay, navigating daily life — from commuting, dining to payments — became effortless.

“You don’t even need to speak Chinese to live comfortably,” I say. “The digital ecosystem makes everything accessible.”

However, being Vietnamese led to some humorous cultural encounters. Because of my features, restaurant staff often assumed I was a local—until I couldn’t respond in Chinese.

“Then my Australian friend would have to step in,” I laugh. “It was always confusing for them.”

Yet, these moments were never uncomfortable. More often than not, they were met with patience. “Take your time,” people would say.

Over time, these small gestures reshaped my understanding of contemporary China: a place that is technologically cutting-edge, yet remains deeply human.

A test of resolve

If adapting to Shenzhen was seamless, getting there was anything but.

The degree authentication process nearly derailed my plans. "I failed five times," I recall. "The sixth approval finally arrived on the very last day before the deadline."

The process was grueling: I sent nearly sixty emails, only to receive a barrage of automated replies. Every step felt frustratingly out of my control. When my parents asked if I would actually make it to China, I had no answer.

During those weeks, a phrase I once dismissed as a cliché — “Believe you can, and you’re halfway there” — transformed into something visceral. It was no longer an abstract motivation; it became a manual for survival.

Why China. why law. why STL.

My decision to pursue law in China was not born of romanticism, it was a calculated strategic move.

Having worked in a firm where 90% of the clientele were Chinese manufacturers and exporters, I was already deeply embedded in the bilateral trade ecosystem — drafting contracts, negotiating terms, and collaborating with Chinese partners.

One reality became undeniable: while the economies of Vietnam and China are inextricably linked, there is a profound shortage of legal professionals who truly command both systems.

That gap — between market demand and specialized expertise — defined my career mission. I did not just want to practice law, I wanted to serve as a bridge.

In researching Peking University’s School of Transnational Law (STL), I looked beyond prestige. I examined faculty profiles, their international training, and their professional pedigrees. I saw many professors who had studied or practiced in the U.S. and experts who brought insights from multiple jurisdictions. I then delved into STL’s YouTube channel, watching student testimonials and lecture clips to gauge the intellectual rigor of the program.

“It wasn’t just about the transmission of knowledge," I realized. "It was about the exchange of experience.”

What ultimately convinced me was STL’s integrated curriculum — teaching Chinese law alongside American Common Law. As a civil law graduate, being immersed in precedent-based reasoning and case analysis has reshaped my perspective.

"This comparative approach is precisely what a cross-border lawyer needs to thrive in today’s global economy," I say.

Learning across systems

In the classroom, I discovered that the most profound insights often emerged not from textbooks, but from our discussion. I witnessed some legal thought: Chinese students deconstructing American doctrine, Latin American classmates weighing regulatory models, European peers navigating treaty frameworks, and Southeast Asian perspectives highlighting critical legal gaps.

One energy law seminar particularly resonated with me. It became clear that while different regions face similar regulatory hurdles, their solutions are dictated by vastly different legal architectures. I observed major economies often shape global norms, while smaller jurisdictions have to adapt.

I realized then that we were not just studying law. We were analyzing the intersections of power, structure, and global dynamics. Even as an observer, the experience was transformative.

As the saying goes, "The same issue takes on a different shape depending on where you stand." For someone aspiring to a cross-border career, this environment was not just theoretical — it was rigorous preparation.

From adaptation to contribution

Having fully integrated into this environment, my focus has shifted from adjustment to active contribution. I am currently serving as Co-Chair for the ALSA International Mediation Competition 2026. In this role, I draw on my years of leadership experience in Vietnam, where I worked nearly a thousand students.

“I love working with the younger generation,” I say. “Not to give them answers — but to help them see what they’re capable of.”

This philosophy mirrors my own journey. STL is no longer just a destination, it has become my platform for global impact.

A broader horizon

Looking back at my earlier internships in the Vietnamese courts, procuratorates, and non-profit sectors, I find that my perspective on the legal profession has undergone a profound transformation.

Vietnam, much like China, is rooted in the civil law tradition. However, at STL, I am immersed in the rigors of common law reasoning — a system where precedent shapes doctrine and judicial interpretation plays a pivotal role. This shift has fundamentally sharpened my analytical capabilities.

Currently, I am conducting research on Direct Power Purchase Agreements (DPPAs), comparing the legal frameworks of the U.S., the EU, and Vietnam. The methodological tools I have honed at STL — structured argumentation, comparative analysis, and critical reasoning — allow me to navigate complex regulatory landscapes with newfound confidence.

STL has expanded not only my legal knowledge but also my vision of a legal career. I now see myself not just as a lawyer, but as a potential arbitrator, mediator, or legal scholar.

Life beyond classroom

Shenzhen itself has become an integral part of my education. The city’s digital efficiency, infrastructure, and "can-do" spirit have left a lasting impression. For instance, the seamlessness of managing daily life — such as paying utility bills directly from my dorm room — offered a level of convenience that surpassed my experiences in parts of Europe.

The academic rhythm here is also a welcome change: classes begin at 9:00 a.m., providing a more sustainable pace compared with the 6:45 a.m. starts I was accustomed to back home. What's more, Shenzhen’s geographical proximity to Vietnam offers both practical convenience and a sense of emotional connection. This proximity reinforces the feeling that my two worlds are deeply intertwined. 

Looking ahead

After graduation, I intend to return to Vietnam to pursue a dual-track career. In academia, I hope to serve as a lecturer while working toward a Ph.D. Professionally, I am drawn to the fields of arbitration and mediation — rapidly emerging disciplines with increasing demand across the ASEAN region.

I believe my transnational legal training will be my most distinctive asset. This LL.M. is not merely a final destination; it is the foundational step toward a broader professional journey.

A journey still unfolding

From rushed business trips to reflective beach days. From automated rejection emails to a last-minute acceptance. From a mere observer to a bridge-builder.

I arrived in China fueled by curiosity. I leave not only with a degree but with a broader horizon — and a clearer sense of who I am becoming. For legal professionals seeking more than just a qualification — those seeking perspective and transformation — my journey offers a glimpse of what is possible.