Chapter 5 — Contract of the Heart

The following Sunday, as promised, Việt Anh appeared at Mrs. Xuân's gate at ten o'clock in the morning, carrying a box of early moon cakes bought at a bakery near the school - although it was nearly two months away from the full moon of August, he said it was the "safest, never wrong" gift following Thảo Nguyên's advice via text message the night before.

Thảo Nguyên stood waiting outside the gate, her heart beating faster than usual even though she knew this was just a carefully scripted performance. Seeing Việt Anh from afar, wearing a white shirt tucked into trousers, looking more neat and somewhat more stressed than her, she suddenly felt funny.

"Are you nervous?" She asked as he approached.

"No," Việt Anh replied immediately, but the hand tightening the handle of the cake box said otherwise. "I'm just reviewing the information you sent last night. Your grandmother's name is Ngô Thị Xuân, seventy years old, likes to drink lotus tea, hates strong perfume, was a literature teacher before retiring, so she values polite speech very much."

"Have you memorized it all?" Thảo Nguyên's eyes widened in surprise.

"I always prepare carefully before entering any situation with unknown variables," he replied seriously, making her unable to help but laugh, the feeling of tension in her heart eased somewhat.

"Okay, professor," she teased, "remember one more thing: call me 'sister' in front of you, don't forget."

Việt Anh nodded slightly, his face slightly red, although he quickly regained his familiar calmness. The two walked into the yard, where Mrs. Xuân had been waiting for a long time, her sleeves rolled up as if she had just left the kitchen, her face so radiant that the wrinkles around her eyes seemed to stretch to their fullest.

"Here it is, here it is!" Mrs. Xuân clapped her hands, her voice undisguised with joy. "You are Việt Anh, right? Come in, come in, child, what are you doing standing out in the sun?"

"Yes, hello uncle." Việt Anh bowed his head in greeting, holding out the cake box with both hands solemnly as if handing over an important artifact. "I have a little gift, I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, you're so polite," Mrs. Xuân took the cake box, her eyes unable to hide her satisfaction. "You're so good, so polite. Come here, come sit here, I've already cooked some dishes."

At lunch that day, Thảo Nguyên sat next to Việt Anh, occasionally glancing to observe how he behaved, unable to help but be surprised at his careful preparation down to every little detail. When Mrs. Xuân picked up food for him, he always stood up halfway to take the bowl and clearly said thank you. When she asked about his studies, he answered concisely, modestly but without lacking confidence, skillfully inserting a few stories about the Robotics club, making Mrs. Xuân nod in approval.

"So you are preparing your application to study abroad?" Mrs. Xuân asked, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Yes, I am applying for a scholarship in Robotics Engineering in Germany," Việt Anh replied. "Thảo Nguyên is helping me practice writing my personal essay. She is much better at Literature than me."

"Oh my god, it's great that you two support each other in your studies," Mrs. Xuân smiled brightly, turning to look at Thảo Nguyên with proud eyes. "I think you two are very compatible, knowing how to help each other like that."

Thảo Nguyên forced a smile, feeling a slight sense of guilt creep into her heart when she saw her absolute trust in a completely staged story. But when she glanced at Việt Anh and saw him telling a sincere story about why he loved robots - the same story they had rebuilt together since the afternoon at the tea shop the previous day - she realized that at least that part wasn't fake at all.

After the meal, Mrs. Xuân pulled Việt Anh into the living room, pulled out an old photo album from the closet, and began flipping through the pages, telling all kinds of stories about Thảo Nguyên's childhood - when she was three years old and refused to go to kindergarten when she cried, when fifth grade won first prize in the district-level writing contest, when she first moved to live with her grandmother and cried every night missing her parents.

"Madam," Thảo Nguyên blushed and tried to stop her, but Mrs. Xuân waved her hand to signal silence and continued to passionately tell the story, while Việt Anh sat and listened attentively, occasionally asking a few questions, making her even more excited.

When she turned to a page in the middle of the album, Ms. Xuân suddenly stopped, her finger gently touching a black and white photo that had yellowed over time, different from the surrounding color photos. In the photo was a young girl wearing a white ao dai standing in front of the gate of an old school, next to her was a tall, thin boy with neatly combed hair in the old style, both smiling brightly.

"Who is this?" Việt Anh asked unintentionally, just out of common courtesy.

Mrs. Xuân was silent for a moment, her eyes seemed lost in some distant sky. "This is her when she was young," she said, her voice suddenly low, different from the cheerful atmosphere just now. "And this is..." She hesitated, her finger stopping on the face of the boy in the photo. "An old friend of hers, from school days."

There was something in the way she spoke that made Thảo Nguyên frown, feeling that behind that short answer was a whole story that had never been told. But before she could ask more, Mrs. Xuân quickly closed the album and stood up with her smile returning.

"Well, why bother mentioning the past," she said, her voice had regained its usual cheerfulness, although Thảo Nguyên still recognized something a bit awkward in it. "Việt Anh, please stay and eat sweet soup with grandma. She cooks longan lotus seed sweet soup, it's delicious."

"Yes, thank you," Việt Anh replied, then glanced quickly at Thảo Nguyên, as if implicitly asking if she had noticed anything unusual had just happened.

Thảo Nguyên shook her head slightly, signaling to wait until later, then followed her to the kitchen to help scoop tea, still lingering in her mind was the image of the old photo and her strange reaction when mentioning the person in the photo.

That afternoon, after Việt Anh asked permission to leave, Thảo Nguyên saw him off to the gate.

"Thank you," she said, her voice rare with sincerity. "You act much better than I thought."

"I don't act," Việt Anh replied, making her pause a bit. "I mean, the way I acted, the way I answered your questions, it was all what I normally do. Just calling you 'baby' and..." he hesitated a bit, "...and the story that we were dating was fake."

Those words made Thảo Nguyên suddenly blush, not knowing how to respond properly.

"Ah, by the way," she quickly changed the subject, remembering the old photo, "did you find my grandmother's reaction strange just now? When she looked at that black and white photo."

"Yes," Việt Anh nodded, his face returning to its usual serious look. "You seem more emotional than usual, and the answer 'an old friend' doesn't really sound convincing, judging by the way you look at the photo."

"I think so too," Thảo Nguyên nodded in agreement. "She never told me about her young love story. I only know that she married my grandfather in the traditional matchmaking style. I've never heard her mention anyone else."

"Maybe just a normal old memory," Việt Anh said, although his voice wasn't entirely certain. "But if you're curious, you can slowly ask, no need to rush."

Thảo Nguyên nodded, put that aside in her mind, and temporarily focused on the more pressing issue - the first launch was successful beyond expectations, his grandmother was clearly very pleased with Việt Anh, even before parting, she told him to definitely come to her birthday party at the end of June.

“I think we just passed the first test,” she said, smiling with relief.

"Yes," Việt Anh nodded, then looked at his watch. "I have to go home and prepare for the club meeting this afternoon. Our next essay writing lesson is this Wednesday, as scheduled?"

"Yes," she replied, "Wednesday, after school, in the school library."

Việt Anh nodded, turned and walked away, his appearance still straight and calm as usual. Thảo Nguyên stood and watched his shadow disappear behind the corner of the street, a mixed feeling that was hard to name arose in her heart - both relieved that the plan was going smoothly, and a little nervous as she remembered her grandmother's eyes looking at the old photo, and the way Việt Anh had just said "I don't act" so sincerely that it made her heart skip a beat for an unknown reason.

She returned to the house and saw Mrs. Xuân sitting alone at the table, her hand absentmindedly rubbing the cover of a folded photo album, her eyes looking far away at the window where the afternoon sun was dyeing the small yard yellow, as if she were immersed in some memory from a long time ago - a memory that Thảo Nguyên, even though she didn't know it yet, would soon discover was more closely related than she thought to the son who had just left her house this afternoon.