HOÀN THÀNH
Contract of the Heart
On Saturday afternoon, the small house on Truc Bach street smelled of green bean tea, freshly brewed lotus tea and another smell that Ngo Thao Nguyen recognized right from the gate: the smell of an upcoming blind date. She stopped in front of the door, still holding a schoolbag heavy with manuscripts of this week's school newspaper. Looking through the window, she saw her grandmother busy arranging four blue-glazed porcelain cups in the middle of the table, the type of cups only used when there are distinguished guests. On the table there is also a plate of lotus jam, a plate of green rice cake wrapped in red paper,...
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DANH SÁCH CHƯƠNG
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