Chapter 12 — Medicinal Garden After Hospital

One late afternoon, when Quyen was preparing to leave the pharmacy counter after a long shift, Bao Nam suddenly stopped by, his eyes somewhat unusually quiet. "Can I invite you for a walk?" he asked, his voice was gentle but contained something heavy and difficult to say.

The two walked together along the small road leading to the stream bank behind the town, where the clear water still flowed day and night through rocks covered with green moss. Bao Nam was silent for a long time before speaking. "Today is the anniversary of my wife and children's death," he said, his voice low, filled with pain that was still fresh even though two years had passed.

Quyen paused for a moment, not expecting him to proactively share his deepest pain so openly. She remained silent, giving him space to continue the story at his own pace. "Dieu Anh, my wife, is an elementary school teacher," Bao Nam said, his eyes looking far away at the slowly flowing stream. "My daughter, Bao An, was only three years old at that time. They were on their way to their grandmother's house when they had a bus accident. I was on emergency duty at the hospital. I personally took over the emergency case, but I didn't realize it was my wife and children until it was too late."

That story made Quyen choke up with emotion, her hands clasped each other tightly as if to suppress her emotions. She could not imagine the terrible pain that Bao Nam had to go through - not only losing his closest loved ones, but also having to witness those last moments as a helpless doctor.

"After that accident, I fell into a state of almost complete collapse," Bao Nam continued, his voice hoarse. "I began to doubt everything, including my own professional abilities. I blamed myself for not being quick enough, not good enough to save my own loved one, even though I knew, medically, that injury had almost no chance of survival from the beginning."

"What about your skepticism about traditional medicine?" Quyen asked gently, trying to better understand the origin of the initial attitude he had shown.

Bao Nam sighed deeply, his eyes filled with pain as he reminisced. "My mother-in-law, after her daughter died, placed all the responsibility on me, thinking that if I had been a better doctor, it could have been saved," he continued. "She then turned to absolute trust in an unknown herbalist who promised to help her connect with her lost daughter's soul, spending a lot of money but providing nothing but false comfort. Perhaps, it was that experience that caused me to form a negative, unfair prejudice against traditional medicine as a whole, even though I knew, that was not its true nature."

Quyen listened, her heart heavy at what Bao Nam had gone through. She realized that behind his cold, principled appearance, there was a man carrying deep wounds in his heart that had never really been healed. “Thank you, for trusting me to share these things,” she said, her voice gentle. "I know, this isn't an easy thing to say."

"I think it's time for me to say it out loud, instead of forever burying it inside," Bao Nam replied, his eyes looking at her full of sincerity. "Since the day I met you and came into contact with this garden, I gradually realized that the truth does not lie in whether Eastern or Western medicine is right or wrong, but in whether people use them with honesty and dedication or not. You have helped me reconsider that, as well as gradually learn to let go of the resentment and suffering that I have locked myself in for the past two years."

The two stood quietly on the bank of the stream, the sunset dyed the space around them bright yellow. Quyen gently placed her hand on Bao Nam's shoulder, a simple gesture of comfort but filled with the deepest understanding and sympathy. "Your wife and children, if up there saw you now, they would certainly hope you could find happiness again, instead of constantly tormenting yourself," she said, her voice gentle but full of weight.

Bao Nam turned to look at her, his eyes in that moment contained both deep gratitude and another emotion, vague but warm, that both of them clearly felt but no one dared to name it out loud. "Thank you, Quyen," he said, his voice soft and warm. "For appearing just when I needed a reason to start believing in life again."

That afternoon, when the two walked back together, the atmosphere between them became completely different - no longer a simple relationship of colleagues and allies in the fight to protect the garden, but gradually transformed into a deeper bond, built on the foundation of understanding and sharing the pain and wounds that they were both on the journey to heal.

On the way home, Bao Nam suddenly stopped in front of a bush of wildflowers growing along the roadside, small light purple flowers blooming under the sunset. "Baby Bao An really likes flowers like this," he said, his voice gentle and reminiscent. "Every time I go for a walk with my child, she always wants to pick a flower to put in a small cup on the desk, even though it's only been a few days and the flower has withered."

Quyen smiled softly, bent down to pick a flower, and gently gave it to him. "Then today, please bring a flower home and take care of it for her," she said, her eyes warm. Bao Nam received the flower, his hands shook slightly, but his face showed a rare, sincere smile.

“This is the first time, in two years, that I can talk about her without feeling like my heart is being squeezed,” he said, his voice strangely relieved. "Thank you, for giving me the opportunity to remember her with warmth, instead of just pain like before."

The two continued to walk in silence, but it was a comfortable silence, not as heavy as before. Quyen feels that a special bond has now formed between them, going beyond common colleagues or friendship - a deep understanding between two people who have experienced great losses together, and are both finding a way to move on, bringing with them beautiful memories instead of just pain.

When approaching the hospital gate, Bao Nam stopped and turned to look at Quyen with sincere eyes. "I hope we can continue to accompany each other, not only in protecting the garden, but also in many other stages of life," he said, his voice somewhat hesitant but full of sincerity.

Quyen felt the deep meaning behind those words, her heart lightly pounded. "I hope so," she replied, smiling slightly. The two stood there for a long time, under the streetlight that had just turned on, sharing a rare moment of peace amid all the worries of life, of the battle to protect the garden that was still going on ahead.

Before saying goodbye, Bao Nam hesitated for a moment and then added. “I want to tell you one more thing,” he said, his voice low. "After my wife and children died, I thought about quitting the medical profession completely, because I felt I was no longer worthy of wearing a white coat. But it was the patients at the provincial hospital, who still believed in me and needed me every day, that kept me in the profession. I moved here, partly because I wanted to find a new beginning, a place where not every street corner reminded me of what I had lost."

"So have you found it yet, that new beginning?" Quyen asked, her eyes gently looking at him.

Bao Nam was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly, his eyes looking at her meaningfully. “I think I'm slowly finding it, right here, right now,” he replied, his voice sincere. That answer made Quyen confused, but also filled with a gentle happiness that she had never allowed herself to fully feel since her mother passed away.

That night, when returning home, Quyen lay in bed unable to sleep, the words Bao Nam said kept echoing in her head. She plucked another wild flower of the same type in the afternoon, brought it back and put it in a small cup on the old school desk, where a few mementos of her childhood were still kept. She smiled, realizing that perhaps the losses and wounds they had both experienced were becoming a bridge to bring them closer together, in a way that she had never dared to think of when she first started the journey to save her mother's garden.