Chapter 3 — Betrothed to the Song Heir

Song Duong Trach gestured wildly, reenacting the scene from that day. As he moved, the memories in my mind began to stir and sharpen. It seemed... yes, that actually happened. On that particular day, I had been chasing the neighbor’s small poodle. Determined to catch that stubborn, bath-refusing creature, I had indeed delivered a swift kick that sent someone flying. Oh dear. So that was how it all began.

Oh, oh, oh! You have just stormed into my heart!

Song Duong Trach grabbed his right hand and held it to his mouth like a microphone, performing with absolute, dramatic fervor.

You! Just only for you! My heart is so...

Why was he singing in English all of a sudden? My calculations were off. I really should have worn sneakers today; in these high heels, I couldn't even dig my toes into the ground for balance. As I pondered this, Mother Song took hold of my hand. She pointed to her own head and gave a slow, deliberate shake, casting a knowing look my way. I nodded in silent agreement. With my free hand, I stealthily sent a text to my parents, warning them not to leave the house just yet. I was bringing the second young master of the Song family home.

The second young master has arrived! Everyone, stand aside! If physical movements could make sound, Song Duong Trach would surely be echoing that phrase with every step. As we approached the door, he finally realized his outfit was a bit too casual. His expression shifted, he let out a startled cry, and bounded up the stairs two at a time. The entire house seemed to tremble under his frantic pace. By the time he came back down, he had changed into a tailcoat, complete with an Elizabethan ruff around his neck for extra flair.

This outfit... is it perhaps a little too... formal? I said, carefully weighing my words.

Mmm, my fiancee is right.

Song Duong Trach nodded in agreement. He dashed back upstairs and reappeared in a charcoal-grey suit encrusted with sparkling stones that mimicked a starry sky, his hair gelled into a rigid style. Well, at least it was slightly less eccentric than the last one. I struggled to select a vehicle from his rainbow-colored fleet of supercars, finally settling on a black one with gold accents—the least flashy of the lot. Song Duong Trach drove, and we set off with his various bags of betrothal gifts in tow.

This is only a fraction of my offerings. This car is simply too small; it cannot hold everything.

He said this while bobbing his head to the rhythm of his own voice. I sat in the passenger seat, cradling a limited-edition Labubu doll and desperately trying to keep a heavy Hermes bag on the back seat from toppling over. Since receiving my message, my parents had scrambled to assemble a full, elaborate banquet by ordering out from every high-end restaurant in the area. They managed to finish just before we pulled into the driveway. They stood at the door, greeting us with wide, practiced smiles.

The second master of the Song family has come to visit; our humble home truly shines with splendor today...

My father didn't even get to finish his pleasantries before he was blinded by the light reflecting off Song Duong Trach’s sequined suit. It was, quite literally, a shining arrival. My mother and I, having anticipated the absurdity, were already wearing sunglasses. We each took one of my father’s arms to steady him as he gasped for air.

Let us go inside and eat!

Having survived on takeout for years, I could identify the source of every dish on the table at a single glance—except for a plate of sauteed greens that looked rather unrefined. My mother must have attempted to cook that one herself. I carefully avoided it as I picked at my food. During the meal, my mother served both me and Song Duong Trach a portion of meat, then nudged me, signaling for me to serve him as well. I had just picked up a piece of fish when Song Duong Trach interrupted politely.

Forgive me, ma’am, but I am not accustomed to eating food served by others.

My mother offered a stiff, awkward smile. My chopsticks froze in mid-air. The very next second, he extended his plate right beneath my chopsticks.

But my fiancee is the exception. My fiancee is not to be counted among "others."

He said this with the utmost seriousness. For the remainder of the meal, I served him, and he ate every bite. I even heaped that plate of greens my mother had made onto his dish, and he finished every single one without complaint. However, after the meal, he drank two full bowls of water and visited the bathroom three times in rapid succession. Once he had finished, he smiled and remarked:

Your cooking is excellent, ma’am—even better than what one finds in the restaurants.

Ha, ha, ha. They were all dishes from the finest takeout spots I had vetted over the years; of course, they were delicious.

Except for that plate of greens; it was a little salty, he added.

I looked at the only dish my mother had actually prepared, then looked at my mother.

Big sister, big sister! Me and Mimi have come to play with you!

A small poodle bounded into the room, followed by the sound of a child’s high-pitched, innocent laughter.

Woof! Woof!

Immediately following that, a blood-curdling scream erupted from Song Duong Trach.

Ahhh!

There is a wild beast!