Chapter 4 — Living for Myself This Time

Tam Tam flushed, her eyes burning with indignation. "Do you truly think that by moving out, you can force Lu Quan to marry you sooner? Or perhaps you believe that by making such a scene, he will abandon my child and me?"

She spat out her words with venom, adding, "Let me tell you this: Lu Quan will never marry you, and you will never succeed in driving me away. You will never be a match for me."

With that, she covered her face and fled, playing the victim as if she had suffered some unimaginable grievance. In my previous life, I was well aware of the resentment she held toward me and knew she had long harbored feelings for Lu Quan. Yet, blinded by affection, I never doubted his feelings for me. We had grown up together; though people often whispered that I was unworthy of him, I never once felt inferior—at least, not until we married. Only then did I see him prioritize her and her child time and again, defending them unconditionally. It was in those moments that I realized they were the ones who truly occupied his heart. My spirit withered from that day on. Since then, I had prayed that if I could only relive my life, I would leave him behind. I wanted to see the world, to discover the beauty of this vast land.

When Lu Quan arrived to find me, I was not surprised. After the spectacle of the previous night, he had to come seeking an explanation, just as he had done in my past life—constantly demanding I apologize and protect Tam Tam’s reputation, no matter the cost to my own. Seeing me calm enough to let him into the room, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Stop being angry," he pleaded. "Come home with me. I spoke harshly last night; I shouldn't have forced you to apologize."

I offered no response, nor did I agree. Lu Quan began to pace, visibly anxious. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for a woman to be out alone at night? Tam Tam wept all night out of guilt, and she didn't even eat this morning before heading out to search for you. You know better than anyone what it’s like to be an orphan; my parents—"

"Enough!" I cut him off, my voice cold.

He stared at me, stunned. "Lu Quan, you know better than anyone that the loss of my parents is the greatest pain of my life. Yet, you repeatedly use that very pain to force me to sympathize with Tam Tam’s situation. You know I despise her and her mother, yet you force me to be patient and even bring them into our home for me to cater to. You claim it is dangerous for me to be out at night, so why did you not come looking for me? There is only one guest house in the vicinity; did you never think to check it all night? Or were you too busy at home, consoling your poor, fragile Tam Tam?"

The truth hit its mark. Lu Quan raised his voice, defensive. "What is this 'your Tam Tam' nonsense? I have told you before: her husband was my best friend. I am simply fulfilling a promise to look after them."

I sneered. "A best friend? Are there any 'best friends' of yours that I am not already familiar with?" He choked on his words, momentarily forgetting that we had grown up together; I knew every person he had ever associated with. In my past life, I remained silent, blinded by a foolish devotion. In this life, I didn't care enough to expose their pathetic charade.

"You use the guise of 'looking after a comrade's widow' to maintain an ambiguous relationship with her, all while painting yourself as a man of honor. Look around—is there any other soldier who cares for them the way you do? Have you ever stopped to consider what your peers truly think when they see the two of you together? Do not think that simply wearing the cloak of morality hides your true face; people are not blind."

Lu Quan’s face cycled through shades of purple and grey, but he struggled to maintain his composure. "I know you are still angry. Stay here for a few days; once I have settled things for them, I will come to take you home."

As he turned to retreat, ashamed, I called him back. "You once said that Tam Tam was too frail for heavy labor and demanded I trade jobs with her. I have already discussed it with Section Chief Wang."

His eyes lit up with excitement, and he reached out to grab my hand. "Da Da, I knew you were the most understanding. Don't worry, I will definitely marry you."

He rushed off before he could witness the mockery etched onto my face. Lu Quan was absurdly self-confident, believing I was still desperate to be his wife, as if marrying him were a grand prize I should be honored to accept. Without the veil of false love, I could clearly see him for what he was: an average, hypocritical, and insufferably self-centered man.

The next morning, I arrived at the transit point early. Section Chief Wang, fearing I was unprepared, arranged for others on the team to assist me. I thanked him sincerely and presented a small gift I had prepared. Not until the train pulled away did I truly feel the weight lift from my chest. Unexpectedly, I encountered someone I had admired all my life—Phuong Minh Binh. My previous life had been squandered on domestic misery; this life finally offered me a chance to break free, to learn, and to define my own worth. Outside of work, I devoted every spare moment to the study of agriculture. Because of our shared passion, Binh and I grew close.

Two months later, I saw Lu Quan again. I was not surprised. A month earlier, Chief Wang had written to tell me that Lu Quan had discovered my whereabouts. He told me that on the day I left, Lu Quan had been busy helping Tam Tam with her transfer papers. Upon arriving at the office, he found that the job I had vacated had already been filled—by the widow of a fallen soldier. Tam Tam had flown into a rage, and Lu Quan’s expression had been dark. I didn't know if his anger was for me or for her.

He frowned, looking me up and down before exhaling. "I will not accept an annulment. Come back with me."

I stepped back, maintaining my distance. A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes. He stepped forward, his voice tinged with panic. "Da Da, there is truly nothing between her and me. I only promised her husband I would watch over them. If you dislike her, I will never see her again. In my heart, you are my only wife. You are the only one I have ever wanted to marry."

I listened in silence, and then, beneath his hopeful gaze, I spoke calmly. "Go back. They are waiting for you."

The words extinguished the light in his eyes. He remained for several days. I continued my routine—working, eating, and consulting with Binh. Lu Quan followed me everywhere. When there were heavy crates to lift, he insisted on taking them from me, murmuring, "It’s too heavy; it pains me to see you work."

I replied levelly, "This crate is lighter than those in the workshop. This work is not nearly as grueling as the life you forced upon me." His face turned ghostly pale. "Da Da, I am sorry. It will never happen again. Come home, and we can start over—just the two of us. Please?"

"No," I answered flatly.

As Binh and I discussed humidity and crop yields, Lu Quan stood to the side, restless and agitated—much like I had been in my past life, treated as an intruder. He constantly hinted that I should keep my distance from Binh, having heard rumors that we were a perfect match. I turned to him, my expression frigid. "There is nothing between Binh and me. I am merely learning from him. Are you not the person who should understand me best?"

Lu Quan was silenced, left only with the memory of how he had once demanded I endure Tam Tam’s presence. The night before he finally left, he drank heavily. For the first time in either lifetime, I saw him weep. He confessed that he had been wrong, that he was full of regret. He claimed that I was the only person he had ever loved, that he had arranged for our engagement himself, and that he had been the happiest man alive when I agreed. He sobbed, repeating that he could not live without me, begging me not to end things until he finally fell into an exhausted sleep. Even in his dreams, he whispered my name.

I looked at him, feeling a strange urge to laugh and cry at once. In my past life, I had screamed, wept, and pleaded, but he had remained a cold, distant stranger. When people whispered that he and Tam Tam were soulmates, he offered no correction. When they claimed I was unworthy, he did not defend me. When I lay dying, he did not care. Now, as I chose to let go and grant him the life he had clearly wanted with her, he wept for me to stay. How utterly pathetic.

Lu Quan departed alone.