Chapter 18 — Love Awakens After Leaving

Mother's Story

That evening, after leaving the office, instead of letting the driver take him straight to the main lobby as usual, Bach Vu asked him to stop the car first, then walked around to the side gate leading to the back yard - a road that during the seven years he returned home to take over the group, he had never once set foot on, even though it was only a few hundred meters from the main building.

The sky gradually darkened, the first stars began to peek out from behind a few thin clouds, and the evening air carried the slight cold characteristic of Hanoi's autumn. Bach Vu walked slowly, giving each emotion in his heart enough time to subside before he had to face the important upcoming conversation. The white gravel road under his feet evoked a vaguely familiar feeling, as if his feet still remembered the hurried steps of a ten-year-old boy who used to sneak away from his tutor's supervision to run here every afternoon. He walked past overgrown hibiscus bushes, past a row of four-level houses with old tile roofs, until he stopped in front of a small house with a bougainvillea trellis covering the eaves, pale yellow light shining from the window.

Mrs. Vuu Thi Lanh was sewing on the porch, heard strange footsteps, looked up and was stunned to realize that the uninvited guest was the young master of the whole family.

"You... you Vu?" She stood up, her voice trembling, and quickly bowed according to the ritual that she had followed for more than twenty years. "What are you doing here? Let me call Tuyet Nhi..."

"No need, uncle." Bach Vu quickly stopped, his hand slightly raised, his eyes gentle but sincere. "I came here because I wanted to talk to you, about... about everything from the past."

Mrs. Lanh paused, her eyes flashed with deep concern, but then she nodded, invited him into the house, poured a cup of hot tea and placed it in front of him with her hands that were still shaking slightly. "You already know, right? About our Nhi..."

"I know." Bach Vu replied, his voice lowered. "This morning I remembered everything. I came here because I wanted to hear you tell the whole story, what happened during the years I was away."

Mrs. Lanh put the cup of tea on the table, her hands trembled slightly, then sighed softly as if releasing a burden that had been on her shoulders for twenty years. "I've been waiting for this day for a long time, Mr. Vu, even though I was always afraid it would come in a bad way. Now seeing you sitting here, sincerely wanting to find out the truth, I feel a little relieved."

The small house was simple but cozy, old items were neatly arranged, a small wooden cabinet in the corner of the room was probably where the wooden box containing childhood mementos that Tuyet Nhi always treasures was kept. Bach Vu looked around, his heart filled with a feeling of both strangeness and strange familiarity, as if this was a forgotten part of his own childhood, now rediscovered after many years of separation.

Mrs. Lanh sat down opposite him, her hands clasped together on her lap, her eyes looking far away as if she were recalling a long memory. "Do you remember the day you left to study abroad? My Nhi was only eight years old at that time. She stood behind this gate, not daring to come out to see you off because I told you not to disturb the family's affairs while the family's mourning was still unresolved. But that night, she cried all night long, I had to hold her until almost morning before she could sleep."

Bach Vu bowed his head, his heart aching at the image Mrs. Lanh had just described. "I'm sorry, uncle, for not knowing that."

"You don't need to apologize." Mrs. Lanh shook her head, her voice tinged with tolerance. "The fault is not yours. At that time you were still young, had just lost your mother, had to go to a strange country alone, no one blamed you for gradually forgetting things back home. The person at fault, if there was one, was you, because you taught Nhi to always keep his distance, to remember his place, to the point that he did not dare to proactively contact you again, even though he still kept all the letters you sent him in a small wooden box over the years."

"Why did you teach Tuyet Nhi like that?" Bach Vu asked, his eyes were not reproachful at all, he simply wanted to understand better.

Mrs. Lanh sighed, her eyes carried the deep sadness of someone who had gone through many ups and downs in life. "Mr. Vu, I've lived in this mansion for more than twenty years. I understand clearly what big families like this value the most - honor, family knowledge, stability of career. I'm afraid, if I let Nhi nurture feelings for you from a young age, when she grows up, she will be hurt twice as much when she realizes the gap between the two of us cannot be bridged. I would rather teach her to keep a distance from the beginning, than let her experience the pain of being rejected or despised. forever later."

"But in the end, he still had to endure that pain for many years, just in silence, no one knew." Bach Vu said, his voice choked with emotion.

"You know," Mrs. Lanh continued, her voice slowly as if she were going through each page of memory, "there was once, about two years ago, Nhi was seriously ill, had a high fever for several days in a row but still tried to get up to go to work, afraid that taking a break would affect his schedule. I had to hide it from him, telling him that he took the leave due to family matters, and didn't dare tell the truth because he was afraid that if he knew about it he would ask too much, and he was always afraid of any special attention from you. can reveal the emotions it's trying to hide."

Bach Vu tightened his grip on the cup of tea in his hand, his heart aching when thinking of the image of Tuyet Nhi trying to work while she was sick, just because she didn't want him to worry or suspect anything. He realized that behind her always calm and professional appearance, there were many silent sacrifices that he had never had the opportunity to see or fully understand.

Mrs. Lanh nodded, her eyes were also filled with tears. "I know. I see my daughter suffering every day and can't do anything, I can only silently stay by her side, do laundry with her, and endure with her. I once thought about advising her to quit her job, find another job where she doesn't have to face you every day, but I know she will never agree, because for her, being close to you, even just being close as an assistant, is much more valuable than having to leave completely."

Bach Vu sat quietly, letting Mrs. Lanh's words sink deep into his heart, carrying with them the weight of twenty years of waiting, sacrifice and silent love that Tuyet Nhi had silently endured. He looked around the simple little house, at the simple but neatly kept objects, and he felt a deep appreciation for the two women who had lived a life of dignity even in humble circumstances.

"Uncle Lanh," he said, his voice firm, "I want to ask your permission for one thing. I want to publicly declare my feelings for Tuyet Nhi, want to take us out of this small house, so that everyone in the family knows and respects the right position that Tuyet Nhi deserves. Do you agree?"

Mrs. Lanh looked at him for a long time, tears rolling down her cheeks that had many wrinkles over the years, but they were tears of happiness that she had never dared to expect. "If you are sincere, I will support you wholeheartedly. I just hope my daughter can live a truly happy life, no longer having to hide it or suffer in the dark."

Bach Vu nodded, grabbed Mrs. Lanh's calloused hand, and squeezed it tightly as a promise. "I'll do it, uncle. I promise."

Before leaving, he stood up, looked around the small house again, his eyes stopped at the table where Tuyet Nhi often sat washing and ironing his clothes every night. He pictured her sitting there, her hands swimming in soapy water, her face tired after a long, stressful day at the office, and his heart ached once again because of the endless torment.

"Uncle Lanh," he added before walking out the door, turning back to look straight at her with sincere eyes, "from now on you don't need to wash my clothes anymore, I will arrange it myself through a professional service. I don't want you two to have to work hard for me any more days."

Mrs. Lanh smiled and nodded, although in her heart she knew that, no matter how many professional services the young master arranged, the heart of a mother, a housekeeper who had been with this family for more than twenty years, would always watch over and take care of him in her own way, whether requested or not.