Chapter 2 — I Never Made It to Nam Thanh With You

Ten seconds later, a new message flashed on my phone: "Moonlight, what has been wrong with you lately?" I did not reply. I was doing just fine. I was simply done with being the "understanding" one.

That evening, our two families gathered for dinner at the Co residence. Aunt Ha Man Nhu had been in the kitchen personally, preparing all my favorite dishes. As soon as I sat down, she slid a bowl of soup toward me.

"You have been working so hard on your university applications lately, Moonlight. You need to nourish yourself," she said warmly. "Once you and Nghien Le leave for the South City, I won't be able to look after you every day like this."

Nghien Le sat across from me. Hearing this, he glanced up, his eyes lingering on me. He was likely still waiting for me to apologize for our earlier disagreement. I kept my head down, focusing on my soup, pointedly ignoring him. Ha Man Nhu, oblivious to the tension between us, continued to plan our future with mounting enthusiasm.

"You two have grown up together, and you will be attending the same university. Knowing you will be there to look after each other gives me such peace of mind," she said. "I have already looked into housing in South City. It is near the campus and has two bedrooms. You two can settle there temporarily, and once you graduate, we can find you a larger place."

My father looked over at me. "Moonlight, are you certain about South City?"

My hand, gripping the spoon, faltered. My father had asked me that same question once before, at this very table, in a past life. Back then, I had nodded eagerly, assuming his question was mere casual conversation. It was only years later that I discovered the professor in charge of the Heritage Conservation program at Northwest University had reached out to my father personally. Had I agreed to join that specialized research project, I would have almost certainly secured a spot in the program. My father had not declined on my behalf. It was I who had sacrificed it all for the sake of Nghien Le.

"The official acceptance results haven't been released yet," I replied, avoiding a direct answer.

Nghien Le frowned. "Didn't you already submit your applications?"

"Yes."

"Then what is there to hide?"

I raised my head to meet his gaze. "My applications—I will speak of them once the results are final."

Nghien Le’s expression darkened with clear displeasure. However, with the elders present, he refrained from pushing further. Ha Man Nhu laughed, trying to smooth things over. "Moonlight has always been cautious; she is likely afraid to count her chickens before they hatch. But given your grades, the South City Institute of Architecture should be a certainty for both of you."

With that, she reached into the cabinet behind her and withdrew a small red velvet box. She opened the lid to reveal a piece of pristine, luminous white jade. It was carved in the shape of a half-moon, bordered by a delicate thread of gold. I recognized it immediately. It was the engagement token of the Co family. In my previous life, on my eighteenth birthday, Ha Man Nhu had placed this very piece around my neck with her own hands. I had cherished it for twenty-three years. Yet, when I died, it was displayed in a glass case at the Te Nguyet Villa, labeled by Song Uyen Ninh as: "An ancestral heirloom of the Co family, symbolizing eternal union."

No one knew it had once belonged to me.

Ha Man Nhu pushed the box toward me. "I intended to wait until the grand opening celebration to present this, but there is no need for secrets among us. In twelve days, the Te Nguyet Villa will officially open. By then, your university results will surely be in. With all our relatives present, your father and I have decided we shall make your engagement to Nghien Le official."

Nghien Le showed no surprise; he had clearly been privy to these plans all along. He looked at me, his gaze entirely placid. There was no longing, nor was there any opposition. It was as if becoming betrothed to me were merely an item on his schedule—a predetermined obligation. Song Uyen Ninh was the person he wanted to protect, while I was the person he was *supposed* to marry. In his mind, the two roles never conflicted.

Ha Man Nhu picked up the jade pendant, reaching toward me to fasten it. I raised my hand to stop her. The dining room fell into an abrupt, suffocating silence. She looked at me, stunned. "What is the matter?"

I closed the lid of the red velvet box and pushed it back across the table.