Chapter 8 — Directions to Cloud Valley

The second day at Ta Chai village started with a busy schedule no less than the first day. The temporary medical examination station continues to welcome a stream of people from neighboring villages, some of whom have to walk for many hours just to receive free medical examination. Dang Khoi and his colleagues worked non-stop, taking advantage of every precious moment before the group had to leave.

Thao Vy, meanwhile, takes on the role of bridge between the medical team and indigenous people, helping to translate in cases of difficult communication due to language barriers, especially with older people who only speak H'Mong.

"This old lady said she had back pain for many years, but had never gone to the doctor because she didn't have money and the way town was too far," Thao Vy translated for Dang Khoi when he was examining an elderly lady.

"Thank you," Dang Khoi said, his eyes filled with appreciation for her support. "If it weren't for you, we would have had a lot of difficulty in properly understanding the patient's condition."

Their collaboration at work is natural and harmonious, a vivid testament to the deep understanding that still exists between the two, even after five years of separation. Thao Vy found that the more they worked together, the more difficult it became for her to maintain the defensive distance she had tried to build during the early days of the trip.

***

At noon, when there was a short break between medical examinations, Dang Khoi found Thao Vy who was resting under the shade of a tree near the medical station.

"Can I sit with you for a moment?" he asked, his voice less tense than the first few days.

"Okay," Thao Vy replied, moving aside so he could have a seat.

"Have you thought more about what I told you?" Dang Khoi asked, although he tried to keep his voice gentle, not wanting to put pressure on her.

"Yes," Thao Vy replied, her voice thoughtful. "I understand why you did it, even though I still think it was a wrong decision. But I also realize that everyone can make mistakes when faced with too much fear."

"I don't want you to forget what happened," Dang Khoi said. "I just hope, with time, we can regain at least some of the lost trust."

Thao Vy was silent for a moment, her eyes looking far away at the rolling mountains surrounding the valley. "I need to know something," she said finally. "If you don't take a genetic test, how can you be sure about your future? And if we... if there's a chance we'll try again, I need to know the truth, not the silence like before."

"You're right," Dang Khoi admitted, realizing the importance of that request. "I've been avoiding getting tested for the past five years out of fear. But I think it's time for me to face the truth, no matter what the results are. When I return to the city, I'll get tested right away."

"It was the right decision," Thao Vy said, her voice a little relieved. "Whatever the outcome, at least we — or anyone who cares about you — will know the truth so we can make informed decisions for the future."

***

In the afternoon, a small incident occurred at the medical station when a middle-aged man in the village, Mr. Sung A Pao, was brought in with severe difficulty breathing. His family panicked because this was the first time he had encountered such symptoms.

Dang Khoi immediately took over the emergency room and quickly assessed the situation. "Does he have a history of heart disease?" he asked Thao Vy, who was translating for the patient's family.

After a quick exchange, Thao Vy translated: "The family said he had chest pain a few times before but never went to the doctor because he thought it was just normal fatigue."

Dang Khoi quickly conducted initial first aid measures and ordered his colleagues to prepare the necessary equipment. “This appears to be a sign of a heart attack,” he said, his voice serious but still maintaining professional composure. "We need to stabilize his condition immediately, and arrange to take him to the district hospital as soon as possible."

During the emergency process, Thao Vy stood by, not only serving as an interpreter but also helping to calm the panicked patient's family. Her many years of experience handling emergency situations during trekking trips helped her maintain the necessary calmness to provide effective support.

After nearly an hour of tension, Mr. Pao's condition gradually stabilized enough to be able to safely travel to the district hospital by rescue motorbike, which Thao Vy quickly contacted via radio with the local rescue team.

"Thank you, doctor," Mr. Pao's son said, holding Dang Khoi's hand tightly with grateful eyes. "If the volunteer group hadn't arrived at this time, I don't dare to think what would have happened to my father."

"It was luck that we were here at the right time," Dang Khoi replied, although in his heart he was also well aware of the importance of volunteer trips like this to remote communities, where timely medical access can be the difference between life and death.

When everything was temporarily calm, Thao Vy and Dang Khoi stood next to each other, watching the rescue vehicle carrying Mr. Pao gradually disappear on the trail leading to the district. They both felt a new bond, forged through the pressure of the emergency situation they had just experienced together.

"You did a great job," Thao Vy said, her voice sincere without hiding her admiration.

"We worked very well," Dang Khoi corrected, looking at her with respectful eyes. "I couldn't have handled this situation well without your support."

Thao Vy smiled, a rare sincere smile for him since their reunion, and in that moment, they both felt that, although the road ahead still had many challenges, they were gradually rediscovering the harmonious rhythm of cooperation that had united them in the past.

***

That evening, after an eventful day, Dang Khoi received a phone call from his mother, informing him of his father's health condition. The phone signal in Ta Chai village was intermittent, but enough for him to hear what he needed.

"Your father seems a little more tired today," Mrs. Hanh, his mother, said over the phone, her voice trying to stay calm but still unable to hide her worry. "But it's nothing serious, don't worry too much. Just complete your volunteer work."

"Remember to call me immediately if there are any changes," Dang Khoi advised, his voice full of concern even though he was hundreds of kilometers away. "I will try to contact more often."

After the call, he sat quietly alone, his mind reeling between family responsibilities and unfinished volunteer work, between worries for his father and the fragile hope that was rekindling for Thao Vy.

"Are you okay?" A voice rang out, startling him. It was Thao Vy, who happened to pass by and noticed an unusually thoughtful look on his face.

"I just talked to my mother," Dang Khoi replied, no longer hiding his worries — a change from his previous habit of keeping his emotions hidden. "Your father seems more tired lately."

Thao Vy sat down next to him, a natural gesture that she didn't immediately realize showed a new closeness. "Do you want to tell me about your father? About who he was before he got sick?"

Dang Khoi looked at her in surprise at that question, but quickly realized it was a sincere gesture of concern. "My father was a construction engineer, a strong man, always full of energy," he said, his voice warm with nostalgia. "He used to teach me how to fish, how to fix a bicycle, how to face difficulties with patience instead of impatience. Watching him gradually lose those abilities over the years was the most painful thing I've ever witnessed."

“That must have been very difficult,” Thao Vy said, her voice filled with sincere sympathy. "Both for you, and for your whole family."

"That's right," Dang Khoi admitted. "But it also taught me to appreciate each present moment more, instead of living in fear of an uncertain future. Perhaps, that was a lesson I learned too late, after losing you because of that fear."

Thao Vy remained silent, letting those words settle in the space between them. "Thank you for sharing," she said finally. "I think, understanding more about what he went through makes it easier for me to sympathize, even though there are still many things I need time to process."

They sat quietly together under the starry night sky, not needing to say anything else, simply enjoying each other's presence — a rare moment of peace amid the tumultuous journey of both hearts slowly learning to trust each other again.