Chapter 9 — After Remarrying, I Lost You Forever

Pho Chieu Da tapped his finger on the table: "Luc Vi has nothing to do with me. What you need to do is find a way to bring the lady back." The door closed, his restless heart suddenly quieted. He waited for her to return. Late at night, he was awakened by an emergency call.

"Mr. Pho, your wife just cut her hand and committed suicide. Her condition is very critical. Would you come over and take a look?"

At that moment, his heart felt like it was being squeezed by a hand, it hurt so much that he couldn't breathe. He didn't even have the heart to confirm whether it was really Le Tri Dien or not. He passed dozens of red lights again, the 3-hour journey was compressed into an hour and a half. Wearing only a black coat, his whole body as if he had just been recovered from an ice cellar, Pho Chieu Da completely lost control. He took long strides, his secretary followed closely behind, and tried to remind him several times that the person who committed suicide was Luc Vi, but his face was too scary so he didn't dare say anything. He pushed open the hospital room door. The person on the bed was covered with a blanket, so his face could not be seen clearly. His fingers trembled. One arm dangled over the edge of the bed, helplessly hanging. He breathed out a heavy, muddy breath and flipped the towel over. Not Le Tri Dien. Pho Chieu Da breathed a sigh of relief, the extreme fear that had previously covered his mind gradually disappeared. The heart from the abyss is pulled back to the ground. I know I'm feeling lucky. If the person who happened was really her, he would never forgive himself in this life. Seeing him walk in, Luc Vi's eyes lit up: "Brother Pho..." But when faced with his cold eyes, every word was stuck in her throat.

“Why impersonate Le Tri Dien?”

“Tell the doctor to tell me that my wife committed suicide by cutting her hand?”

"Luc Vi, I remember saying, you are not as good as a strand of Le Tri Dien's hair."

He clenched his fists, wanting to strangle the woman in front of him. Luc Vi's face turned pale. She jumped up, her movements were too hasty so she fell to the ground, the back of her hand was stuck with an IV needle until it turned purple. Pho Chieu Da looked down from above and had no intention of helping her up.

"Mr. Pho, I didn't know they used my wife's name. You're about to kick me out, do you still want to slander me?"

“Slandering you?”

He glanced at her with contemptuous eyes, took a step back, his tone sarcastic:

“Luc Vi, you should feel lucky.”

She should feel lucky because the person who happened was not Le Tri Dien. He was too lazy to look any further, turned around and walked away. The intense heartbeat still hasn't stopped. This incident made him deeply aware of how much he loved Le Tri Dien. He couldn't bear her leaving, always worried about whether she was living well, and couldn't bear the price of losing her. The man's back seemed to bend down, this time he admitted defeat again. He can't lose her. The last time he remarried, he lost half his life. This time, he used the remaining half of his life in exchange for her return. He didn't see the loss. But just as he walked to the door, Luc Vi called back: "Brother Pho."

"Three months in the fishing village, you said you loved my body, loved my soul, were they all fake?"

"It's obvious that Le Tri Dien is gone, why don't you still accept me? What did I do wrong, do I deserve this?" Luc Vi spoke in a vile and vile voice. She scrambled up, rushed to hug him from behind, tears streaming down her face, crying extremely pitifully.

Pho Chieu Da slightly stopped. When he fell off the cliff and disappeared, after three months of living with Luc Vi, he truly experienced the excitement that Le Tri Dien could not bring. He was once immersed in her passion. But there was no way, his heart belonged to Le Tri Dien. Asking him to give up her to choose Luc Vi, he can't do it. He reached out to wipe Luc Vi's tears. She had just had a miscarriage and he had sent her abroad. She couldn't accept it so she cut her hand and committed suicide, her face now as white as paper. He put his hand on her shoulder: