Chapter 1 — Living for Myself This Time

I have been reborn. This time, I have chosen to actively facilitate the union between Su Luu Quan and Ly Tam Tam. When Su Luu Quan mentioned that Ly Tam Tam’s health was frail, I immediately surrendered my work assignment and volunteered for a rural posting. When he expressed a desire to bring Ly Tam Tam into our home for care, I packed my things and moved out to make space for them. In my past life, when Ly Tam Tam fell critically ill, everyone urged me to divorce him, insisting that their love should remain unburdened by regret. Even my own daughter blamed me for being selfish, unaware that I was then suffering from a terminal illness of my own, with little time left to live.

As Department Head Vuong praised me for being so understanding, I nearly burst into tears. It was because I truly had returned to the past, arriving exactly at the moment Su Luu Quan demanded I yield my job opportunity to Ly Tam Tam. I put down my pen with finality and told the department head, "Sir, I wish to cede this opportunity to someone more in need, someone who requires this support more than I do."

Department Head Vuong paused, looking at me with astonishment. "Did your fiance not ask you to yield this position to Ly Tam Tam? Now that you are giving it to someone else, what will you tell him when you return home?"

My fiance, Su Luu Quan, was viewed by all as the golden son of high-ranking officials—handsome, refined, and a model officer. Everyone whispered that I was unworthy of him. Had it not been for my parents being war martyrs, I would have been lucky just to serve as a maid in his household. I smiled gently and replied, "Sir, I wish to embrace the spirit of free love in this new era and avoid promoting the arranged marriages of the past. Moreover, as the child of martyrs, I should lead by example and actively help those in need."

Listening to my impassioned words, Department Head Vuong clapped with fervor. His eyes were filled with pride at my sudden enlightenment. I seized the moment to submit my application for the rural posting. "Women can hold up half the sky; building the nation is our collective responsibility," I declared.

As I took my departure papers, the ringing praise of Department Head Vuong followed me. In my previous life, I had never gone to the countryside. A few days later, I had married Su Luu Quan. After the wedding, we quickly had a child, and I remained home to attend to the family while he continued his military career. As he was promoted and reassigned, we began to live apart. Wherever he went, he took the mother and child—Ly Tam Tam and her son—with him. Outsiders praised him for his loyalty and faithfulness to a promise. Only I understood his cold, indifferent, and heartless nature.

I stayed home to care for elderly parents and our child, all while correcting the rumors circulating about his affair. I watched my daughter grow from infancy to adulthood, only to see her slowly drift away from me, eventually growing to loathe me. In the end, she married the son of Ly Tam Tam, forming a "true" family with them. I could not understand it. I was furious. Yet, Su Luu Quan simply criticized me for being petty and unforgiving. His nonchalant words were the final blow that shattered me. Most laughable of all was that no one even informed me of my own daughter's wedding. Later, Su Luu Quan showed me the wedding photos. "Don't be angry," he said. "She was afraid you wouldn't approve, so she didn't tell you." In the pictures, my daughter held Ly Tam Tam’s arm affectionately, as if she were her true mother. It had been so long since my daughter looked at me with that same warmth. From the moment she started dating, she had expressed nothing but disdain for me, often pressuring me to divorce. "Mother, you and Father are meaningless together," she would say. "Just let him go so he can be with the one he truly loves. Your selfishness is truly unbearable."

If I divorced, who would it truly benefit? Who was worthy of Su Luu Quan? It was not until the very end that I realized the daughter I had raised with my entire heart had always stood by her future mother-in-law. She felt aggrieved on behalf of Ly Tam Tam. But on what grounds? Was I the one who stayed up through the night caring for ailing in-laws while he went on romantic dates with another? When our daughter had a high fever, I was the one who carried her to the hospital and sat by her IV drip all night, while he took another woman's son to tutoring, dined out, and attended school meetings as his "father." I sacrificed everything for this family, abandoning my dreams and losing myself, only to be told I was unworthy. He said it. My daughter said it. Everyone said it. They all wanted me to sacrifice myself for their happiness. But I would not! Even though I knew he never loved me, I had clung to that marriage until my dying breath.

When Ly Tam Tam became terminally ill, her final wish was to take a family photo with Su Luu Quan as his legal wife. Su Luu Quan came to me, expressing his "guilt," and asked me to facilitate this for the sake of a dying woman. I watched him closely; he was still as handsome and elegant as in my memory. Time had been kind to him, his few wrinkles only adding a touch of tenderness. His back remained straight. Throughout our lives, he had always held an umbrella for Ly Tam Tam, but never once for me—often even letting the runoff from her umbrella drip onto my clothes. The more he urged me, the colder I became. We quarreled, and our final parting was bitter. But in the end, I facilitated their union—through my own death.

I died on the very day my daughter came again to pressure me for a divorce. Seeing me unmoved by her emotional arguments, she stood up in a rage. "It would be better if you were never my mother!" she shouted before slamming the door. She did not see the terminal cancer diagnosis slipping from my hands. She did not see me close my eyes with a heart full of regret—regret for bringing such a child into the world, and even more for marrying Su Luu Quan.

Fortunately, I have been reborn. I returned to a time before I married him. This life, I will live for myself. Back home, I stashed away my rural posting notice and began packing. This house was our allotted wedding apartment. Since the date was approaching, I had already moved in. As I packed, I planned my future. I knew a pioneer in the field of agriculture lived in the countryside, and I was determined to learn from him and contribute to the nation.

While lost in these visions, Su Luu Quan returned. Unsurprisingly, he stopped by Ly Tam Tam’s home first, then led her and her son inside. Ly Tam Tam smiled as she entered. "Sister-in-law, I am bothering you again," she said. She was not strikingly beautiful, but she possessed a fragile, delicate air that invited protection. She cast a glance at Su Luu Quan and lowered her head with a shy smile, looking like a newlywed. Her son, clearly familiar with the home, ignored me and marched straight to the kitchen to fetch three sets of bowls—for Su Luu Quan, for Ly Tam Tam, and for himself. There were none for me. It was as if they were the true family, and I was the outsider.

Soon, the boy ran out, pouting. "Father, there’s nothing in the kitchen! Did she eat it all and leave nothing for Mom and me?" I had once asked Su Luu Quan why he let the boy call him father. He had dismissed it: "He’s just a child, don't be petty. What’s the difference?" Perhaps he himself longed to be the boy’s father and didn't mind. Su Luu Quan patted the child's head and walked into the kitchen. Indeed, there was no food. Ly Tam Tam’s eyes filled with tears. "Did I upset your wife? I shouldn't have come... but I couldn't let you go hungry, Su."

I simply sat on the sofa, watching Su Luu Quan fret over them. When he finally returned after escorting them home, he stood in the doorway, frowning. "If you are unhappy, just say so. Why make things difficult for them?" Noticing his own harsh tone, he softened. "He was my childhood friend. Before he passed, he asked me to look after them. The boy is growing and needs nutrition. Tam Tam doesn't cook well. You have the time and the skill... I thought bringing them here to eat was the most convenient solution. If you truly mind, I won't bring them here again." He lingered, looking at me, waiting for a reaction.