Chapter 3 — Champion Bodyguard of the Female President

The flight from Saigon to Lao Cai departs at six in the morning. Tue Lam sat next to the window, looking down at the layer of white clouds floating under the plane's wings, her heart still full of chaos. She told Thuy Linh to keep this schedule a secret, only telling necessary people that she would take a few days off to deal with family matters.

Before boarding the plane, she stopped by the hospital again, sat beside her father's bed for a long time, holding his thin hand tightly, trying to recall the memory of the old story.

"Dad," she whispered, "I was planning to look for the place you mentioned. If I misunderstood what you meant, please forgive me. But I have no other choice."

Messed up memories of her childhood days began to flood into her mind during the flight. She vaguely remembered a boy who used to live with her family in the old villa, the son of her father's personal security captain. They grew up together like siblings, skipping school and playing mock battles in the garden, sharing candy, and promising the innocent things of childhood.

Then one rainy night, everything collapsed.

Tue Lam closed her eyes, trying to extract every fragment of memory from that night. She remembered the sound of sirens, the red fire that engulfed part of the villa, and the sounds of adults shouting to each other in panic. She was only eight years old at that time, was carried by a maid and ran out of the dangerous area, only in time to see the silhouette of her best friend standing still in the fire and smoke, screaming for his parents.

Later that night, the boy disappeared. No one in her family mentioned him anymore, as if it was a pain too great to touch. Tue Lam only knows that his parents - two loyal guardians of the Kieu family - died in that fire, and the boy was taken by someone, no one knows where.

For eighteen years, she tried not to think about it, thinking of it as an old wound that had healed even though it still left scars. But now, holding her father's old map with the circled point named Van Son in her hand, she began to wonder if it all had a connection - the fire in the past, the mysterious sect her father had mentioned, and even the dangers surrounding her now.

The plane landed at Lao Cai airport mid-morning. Tue Lam rented a pickup truck with a local driver who was familiar with the terrain, and followed the instructions faintly written on an old map to find the way to the foot of Van Son mountain.

"Are you sure you want to enter that area?" the driver, a tanned middle-aged man, asked again with surprise upon hearing the destination. "That area is very remote, the roads are difficult, few local people wander deep into the mountain. There are rumors that there is a group of people up there who live in seclusion, are self-sufficient, and do not interact with the outside."

"That's right there," Tue Lam replied, holding the map tightly in her hand like an inseparable object. "I need to find them for something very important."

The pickup truck swayed on the rough dirt road, going deeper and deeper into the rolling mountains. On both sides of the road, the vast forest is covered in dark green, occasionally steep cliffs appear, and misty clouds drift across the distant mountain peaks. The air becomes fresher and colder than the sweltering heat of Saigon, carrying with it the faint scent of damp forest leaves.

After nearly three hours of traveling, the road began to become too dangerous for the car to continue, so the driver stopped at a small village located halfway up the mountain.

“From here, you have to walk,” he said, pointing toward a narrow trail hidden behind the trees. "I will wait for you here until evening. If you don't come back in time, I will tell someone in the village to help find you."

Tue Lam thanked him, shouldered a small backpack containing a few necessary items, and began the climbing journey alone. She was used to high heels and the office's marble floors, but now had to struggle with slippery slopes and rough rocks. The new sneakers she bought yesterday were covered in mud after only half an hour.

The trail leads through dense forests, crosses a small stream with clear running water, and then continues to climb higher. The higher you go, the thinner and colder the air becomes, and the fog begins to drift around the ancient trees, causing visibility to narrow to just a few meters ahead.

There were times when she was almost exhausted and had to stop and lean against a large rock to catch her breath. Her legs ached because she hadn't exercised so vigorously for so long. But every time the thought of giving up crossed her mind, the image of her father lying motionless on the hospital bed appeared in her mind, giving her the motivation to move on.

"If you trust this place so much," she told herself, taking a deep breath and continuing on, "then I have to trust it too."

By mid-afternoon, when the sunlight was turning yellow and the shadows of the mountains began to fall, Tue Lam suddenly heard a strange noise ahead - the dry sound of wood colliding, like the sound of a cone or a training stick. She cautiously approached, holding her hand against a tree to observe.

In the middle of an open space on the mountainside, dozens of young men wearing gray martial arts uniforms were practicing in neat formation, their movements were decisive and surprisingly synchronized. The unison chant echoed throughout the valley, carrying a serious aura that made Tue Lam shiver even though he was standing quite far away.

Before she could come to her senses, two young people discovered her presence and quickly approached to block the way, their eyes looking at her from head to toe with alert eyes.

"Who are you? How did you come here?" One of the two people, appearing to be in his twenties, spoke up, his voice not harsh but full of doubt. "This is a restricted area, outsiders are not allowed to enter."

Tue Lam tried to stay calm, even though she couldn't help but panic at this unexpected reaction. "I'm sorry for being so sudden. My name is Kieu Tue Lam, from Saigon. My father is Kieu Thanh Nghia, he told me to come to this place when I encounter danger that I can't handle on my own. I hope to meet the leader here."

Hearing the name "Kieu Thanh Nghia," the two young men paused slightly, exchanging glances, as if that name was not completely unfamiliar to them. One of the two quickly said: "Wait here for a moment," then turned and ran quickly towards a row of wooden houses hidden behind a row of pine trees in the distance, his running style was as light as gliding on the ground, so fast that Tue Lam barely had time to clearly see how his steps touched the ground.

The remaining person stood guard, his attitude less tense but still keeping a careful distance. Tue Lam stood still in the quiet space of the mountains and forests, her heart beating fast from both excitement and fatigue. She looked around, overwhelmed by the scenery here - rows of wooden houses skillfully built to blend into the mountainous terrain, spacious martial arts training grounds, and in the distance there was a small waterfall cascading down, creating a gurgling sound mixed with the sound of the forest wind.

This is truly a world completely separate from what she used to know — no car horns, no phone screens flashing notifications, no stressful meetings or the cold neon lights of the office. There are only mountains, forests, fog, and people with an unusually disciplined temperament.

About fifteen minutes later, the young man returned, followed by another middle-aged man, with a more mature appearance, wearing a rough indigo cloth, perhaps someone with a certain position in the sect. He looked at Tue Lam from afar, his eyes sharp as if assessing, then slowly approached.

"Are you Mr. Kieu's daughter?" he asked, his voice low and somewhat searching.

"Yes, I'm Kieu Tue Lam," she replied, trying to keep her voice calm even though her legs were tired after the long journey. "My father is currently in a coma due to an incident that I believe was more than just a stroke. Before falling into a deeper coma, he told me, if you are in danger and cannot handle it yourself, you should come to this place."

The man was silent for a moment, his eyes still not leaving her face, as if looking for something familiar in those lines. "The sect leader is currently practicing meditation for a period of time and does not receive strangers. But since you mentioned Mr. Kieu's name, I will come in and report. Please wait in the guest house ahead."

He signaled another disciple to lead Tue Lam to a small wooden house next to the practice yard, then went deep inside himself, disappearing behind a thick bamboo grove. Tue Lam sat down on a rustic wooden chair in the guest house, still clutching her backpack, her heart both nervous and filled with a faint glimmer of hope.

She didn't know who she would meet, didn't know what this sect really had to do with her family's past, and didn't know how much the upcoming meeting would change her life. But as she sat in that quiet space, listening to the sound of the wind passing through the wooden door, the birds singing somewhere in the tall trees, she realized that her shoulders had suddenly lowered from their familiar stiff position, her breathing had also slowed down to a rhythm that she couldn't remember the last time she breathed like that, perhaps even before the day her father fell ill.

The afternoon sunlight began to dye the whole valley yellow, lengthening the shadows of the pine trees on the ground, when the door of the guest house opened slightly, signaling that the fateful meeting that she had traveled hundreds of kilometers to search for, was finally about to begin.