Chapter 10 — My Loved One, I Set You Free

"I just want you to know, those three years weren't completely fake. My feelings for you were real."

But right after that, he bowed his head again.

"It's just that I'm not worthy of that sincere affection."

I held the cup of coffee, my fingertips clenched slightly. During those three years, he used to set off tens of thousands of fireworks just for me. In the moment of life and death, he did not hesitate to choose to protect me. Are those things true? Maybe it's true. But sincere feelings built on lies are shattered with just the slightest touch. After breaking, the sharp pieces cut me.

“Hoo Lang Da, I don't hate you anymore.”

Seemingly anticipating my next words, his smile turned bitter.

“But I won't forgive you either.”

The wind blew away all my emotions, leaving only coldness.

“Go away.”

He nodded. The corners of the lips still held that smile but it looked even more unsightly than crying.

“Okay.”

He stood up and pushed the chair away. After two steps, he stopped again, turning his back to me.

“Two red hair ties, I placed them at the bottom of your folder.”

Then, he pushed the door open and walked out, without looking back. From then on, I never saw Hoac Lang Da again. It is said that he went to a very far place. Someone once took a photo of him on the pilgrimage to Thien Son. He wore gray rough clothes, completely different from the previous high-ranking General Manager Hoac. Others asked what crime he was atoning for. He only answered one question: Sin cannot be forgiven. And me. The Nguyen family's property in my hands is growing more and more. In just three years it has doubled. I removed each worm one by one, holding tightly to the things that my mother could not protect that year. I'm not remarried. Not because I'm waiting for anyone, nor because I still hate anyone. I just don't want it anymore. There are some things that break once and are reluctant to be re-glued and can still be used. But if they break twice, only fragments remain. I don't want to continue using myself to bet on the sincere feelings of others. Sometimes, when I have to work late at night, I will open the bottom of the document box and look at the two red hair ties. Twenty-five years ago, on that snowy night, I gave cake to a starving boy and gave him a hair tie, sincerely wishing him a lifetime of peace and happiness. At that time, I didn't understand anything. I don't know how many years of trouble this string will entail. Also don't understand that sometimes kindness can also turn into a knife. But I don't regret it. If I could do it again, I would still give him the cake. I just won't put myself into it anymore. Outside the window, the city is brightly lit. I closed the document box and turned off the light. Tomorrow I have three meetings to attend. Next week we still have to fly abroad to negotiate a merger deal. Life is very busy. So busy that there's no space left to remember the past. But that's also very good. This time, I'm alive. Live awake. Live for yourself. Not for anyone. RUN OUT OF