Chapter 18 — Mist Peak Rescue Team

The lights of Heaven's Gate station appeared from afar like a warm dot of light in the dark night, and when the all-terrain rescue vehicle carrying Khanh Van and the rest of the team turned onto the road leading to the station yard, she could see a figure waiting right in front of the gate, ignoring the still light rain.

That's Kieu Thanh Hien.

As soon as the car stopped completely, she rushed forward, not waiting for the car door to open completely, her eyes glued to each figure getting out, searching for her son's face in the crowd.

"Nam! Hey Nam!"

The teenager, even though he was so exhausted that he could barely stand, still tried to walk faster when he heard his mother calling, and just a few seconds later, the two were hugging each other in the middle of the station yard, Thanh Hien's choked cries mixed with the sound of rain falling on the corrugated iron roof.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I let you go," she said, her voice broken by tears, her hands clutching her son's face tightly as if to make sure this wasn't a dream.

"I'm fine, mom." Nam, even though he was also crying, still tried to give her a reassuring smile. "I'm really fine."

Khanh Van stood looking at that scene from a sufficient distance, feeling a warmth spreading throughout her cold and exhausted body - this was the moment that all the efforts, all the difficult decisions throughout this long day had been leading towards, and nothing could compare to the feeling of witnessing it come true.

Dac Lam walked out of the command room, his face, usually serious, could not hide his emotions when he saw his entire team return, although some were injured, they were all alive and intact.

"Van," he called, his voice hoarse with an emotion he rarely let out. "You did it."

She stepped forward, and for a rare moment, she let herself rest lightly on his shoulder, unable to say a word, just letting the exhaustion and relief that had built up throughout the day flow out in a shaky sigh. Dac Lam patted her back, didn't say anything else, just stood there, giving her the moment she needed before having to continue with the remaining work of a rescue operation — reporting, checking equipment, taking care of the injured.

Uncle Tong and Dieu Han were waiting in the yard, and when they saw Khanh Van, they both immediately approached. Dieu Han, his wrist still wrapped in bandages, hugged her, unable to hold back his tears.

"I've been worried ever since I got here," she said, her voice shaking. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Khanh Van hugged her back, feeling the warmth of sincere companionship that no words could describe more completely than a well-timed hug. "Thank you for trying your best today."

Uncle Tong stood nearby, his eyes glanced over each member of the team, counted the number of people, then nodded slightly, as a private ritual he often did after each rescue case to reassure himself that no one was left behind.

“They're all back,” he said, his voice low, carrying a deeper meaning than mere words could convey, especially to someone who had stood in this very station yard two years ago, counting the returnees and realizing one was missing.

Khanh Van looked at him, clearly understanding what he was not saying, and nodded, a silent sympathy flowing between the two people who had gone through both the pain and hope of this profession together.

Kien, who was being helped into the station to rest and wait for the car to take him to the hospital to have his ankle checked, stopped for a second when passing by Khanh Van, his eyes looking for her in the busy crowd.

"Miss Van," he called, and when she turned to look at him, he said just one sentence, short but containing a whole day of changes between the two of them. "Thank you, for everything."

She nodded, didn't say anything more, just let her eyes respond to what he wanted to convey.

Uyen Nhi, after handing over Bao Anh and Nam to the district medical team at the meeting point, had just returned to the station on the next bus, her medical backpack still wet on her shoulder. She went straight to Khanh Van, quickly checking her condition with her familiar, expert eyes.

"I need to eat something hot and rest now," she said, her voice both commanding and sincere concern. "I stood for nearly nine hours outside in the cold, my body needs to recover."

"I'm fine," Khanh Van replied, but as soon as she said it, she realized her voice was much weaker than it had been in the morning, and a chill was starting to creep into her body now that the adrenaline had drained away.

"You're not okay," Uyen Nhi objected, pulling her hand towards the station's main house, where there was already a pot of hot porridge and several thick blankets prepared in advance by those who stayed at the station all day to monitor developments via radio. "Go inside, sit down, have a bite to eat before doing anything else."

Khanh Van let herself be led away without further resistance, and when she sat down next to the small fire in the main house, feeling the warmth spreading throughout her body, she realized how exhausted she was. Her hand trembled slightly when she picked up the bowl of hot porridge Dieu Han gave her, not entirely from the cold anymore.

Bao Khang, his shoulder still wrapped in bandages, sat in the corner of the room, looking at her with a light smile. "Miss Van, I heard that you led the whole team to find someone. You're really good."

"It's the whole team's work, not just me," she replied, taking a sip of hot porridge, feeling the warmth spread from her throat to her stomach. "Are you okay, does your shoulder still hurt a lot?"

Dieu Han sat down next to her, her bandaged wrist placed neatly in her lap, her eyes shining with undisguised admiration. "Miss Van, I heard earlier that you led the whole group to lower the stretcher over three slopes, and then also carried Mr. Kien. I don't think I have the strength to do that."

"You also did very well today," Khanh Van replied, looking at her with affectionate eyes. "Being able to stay calm even when injured, not panicking, is the most important thing in this profession. Strength is only a part, keeping a clear mind is the most difficult thing to train."

Uncle Tong, who was sitting and warming his hands by the nearby fire, nodded in agreement. "She's right, Dieu Han. When I first started my career, someone taught me a saying that I'll always remember: muscles can be trained in a few months, but a cool head in times of panic takes many years to develop."

"I'm much better, thanks to Uyen Nhi for taking good care of me." Bao Khang looked around the room, where almost the entire team had gathered, although everyone bore traces of a long, hard day. "It feels strange, having a whole team like this after such a difficult case."

Khanh Van looked around the room, just as Bao Khang said - Uyen Nhi, uncle Tong, Dieu Han, Long, Bao Khang, and even Vu A Tua who had just turned in after delivering the car to the station, all were present, tired but safe. Only Kien was taken to the hospital to have his ankle checked, but even that temporary absence felt different from two years ago — an absence with a return date, not a permanent loss.

Dac Lam entered the room, holding a stack of papers - a rescue campaign report form that he would have to complete before the end of today, a familiar but no less important procedure after every major rescue case. He sat down opposite Khanh Van, put the notepad aside and didn't open it yet.

"Let's do the report tomorrow," he said, looking at her with serious but warm eyes. "You need to rest first today."

"I'm fine, I can do it now." Khanh Van started to stand up, but Dac Lam raised his hand to stop her.

"I said tomorrow." His tone left no room for argument, but underneath it was a concern that he rarely expressed in words. "You've done enough for today, Van. More than enough."

She sat back down, without further protest, letting the fatigue finally be allowed to take over her body without feeling guilty for stopping.

Around her, the sound of chatter gradually replaced the tension that had enveloped the station all day, mixed with the relieved laughter of people who had just gone through a life-and-death ordeal together. It was a sound Khanh Van hadn't fully heard in two years — the sound of a day that ended without anyone crying over the loss.

Outside in the yard, the rain had begun to stop completely, and somewhere behind the fading clouds, a faint streak of moonlight began to penetrate, shining down on the Heaven's Gate station yard as a belated welcome to the people who had just returned from the fragile boundary between life and death.