Chapter 11 — Long-term Contract Marriage

I turned around and walked towards the elevator. As soon as the elevator door closed, the phone lit up. It's a message from Luc Nghien Tu: 【Today I said everything I needed to say. What I owe you, this life may not be able to repay. But I wish you a good life in the future.】 I looked at it for three seconds and replied with two words: 【Take care.】 The elevator went up, the numbers kept changing. I leaned against the elevator wall, closed my eyes, and remembered the summer when I was fourteen years old. Luc Nghien Tu used a tree branch to carve my name under the camphor tree. After carving, he raised his head and smiled at me, saying: "Engrave a little deeper. Even if the tree falls down in the future, the name will still remain." That tree is still there. But we both got over that summer. The elevator arrives. I walked out, swiped my card to open the door. On the table in the room was the fruit that Co Dien Chau had delivered that afternoon. The grapes have been washed and placed in a small plate. Next to it was a note, his handwriting was very scribbled: "Used to cure hangovers." I laughed, took a grape, put it in my mouth, and sent a text message to Co Dien Chau: 【Are you home yet?】 He replied: 【Just got home. Go to sleep, see you tomorrow.】 I said okay. The city lights outside the window penetrated through the curtains, mixing light and dark. I lay down on the sofa, closed my eyes, feeling like the rock that had been weighing me down for five years was finally laid down. The phone vibrated slightly again. Co Dien Chau sent another message: 【That's right, about the extension, your agreement has been drafted. If you have time, sign it. Long lasting effect.】 I looked at the screen and laughed for a long time. I typed two words and sent them: 【Signed.】 He replied again: 【Yes. So go to sleep, Mrs. Co.】 I smiled, placed the phone on my chest. The night wind outside the window blew softly, like the wind that carried the willow fibers in the yard when I was young, soft, carrying the warmth of the last days of May.