Chapter 3 — My Own Spring

After five years of marriage, this is my last chance for you. Early the next morning, the wind outside the barracks gate was very light. Pho Nghien Tu loaded my luggage into the car and opened the car door for me. Before I could sit down, his phone rang. The three words "Tham Chi Dao" flashed on the screen. He took a look and then turned off the phone. As soon as I put the phone in my pocket, it rang again. He turned off the phone again. The third time the phone rang, his hand hovered above the screen, still not pressing down. "Listen." I leaned against the car door, my tone surprisingly calm. He breathed a sigh of relief and received the call. On the phone came Tham Chi Dao's crying voice: "Brother Nghien Tu, what do you mean we won't see each other again in the future?" "That border guard company, we promised to come together. Now do you want to take Luc Sanh away?!" Pho Nghien Tu looked at me unnaturally, and was about to open his mouth when the sound of the wind came from the other end: "Without you, what is the meaning of my life?" Pho Nghien Tu's face immediately changed, tightening. He picked up the phone: "Chi Dao, don't do anything stupid..." I looked at him, frowned, and instinctively reached out to touch the car key. I am so familiar with that movement. For five years, every time Tham Chi Dao's voice came from the other end of the line, he did this. My voice was very light but extremely serious: "Pho Nghien Tu, if you leave today, we will divorce." He stopped, a look of struggle flashed in his eyes. "The last time." The string that had been taut for five years in my heart was finally completely broken. What I've been waiting for has never been a chance to follow the army. It's a place in your heart. Now I see clearly, that position never belonged to me. I calmly smiled: "Go, remember to sign the divorce agreement." Pho Nghien Tu's movements stopped, he looked at me deeply: "Sanh Sanh, stop being angry, wait for me." I said nothing. This time, I won't wait anymore. The taxi turned off the mountain road. The sunset light spread out to the right of the car window, creating a vast reddish-brown area. The phone lights up. Pho Nghien Tu's WeChat message: 【Why aren't you at home?】 I didn't reply and turned off the phone directly. I took out my phone card and stuffed it through the window. It was blown away by the wind into the pile of rubble below the roadbed, and in the blink of an eye, it was no longer found. From now on, the horizon is separated, we will never see each other again. The taxi drove around the mountain road for a long time, finally entering the city with scattered lights. Luc Sanh leaned against the car window. The cold air of the night condensed on the glass surface, pressing against her cheeks, pressing down on the last bit of bitterness. Her fingertips caressed the new phone card that Wen Dich had made for her in her pocket, along with a bank card containing the money she had accumulated over the years. From the moment she discovered the application form to join that army, she started preparing for today. Not crying like crazy, not determined to live happily until the end, she just gradually withdrew all traces of herself, like a receding tide, quietly leaving the shore that did not belong to her. She told the driver to stop in front of the high-speed train station, pulled her small suitcase in. In front of the ticket counter, she looked at the destinations on the screen for a long time, finally choosing Dung Thanh, a small coastal city in the southeast of the country, with a long coastline, bougainvillea flowers that bloom all year round, more than three thousand kilometers from the Northwest desert and snowstorms. She had seen the sea there on TV before, blue like a melting gem. At that time, she was still clinging to Pho Nghien Tu, saying that when he was discharged from the army, the two of them would go see the sea together. At that time, he reluctantly agreed, turned around and discussed with Tham Chi Dao what to bring

follow in the next training session. Looking back now, it turns out that those unspoken wishes were already destined for her to fulfill on her own. When the bullet train started moving, the lights outside the window quickly receded behind her, just like her countless waits and disappointments in five years. Luc Sanh closed his eyes, not shedding tears. As soon as the heart dies, the tears have dried up, and what remains is only liberation. When Pho Nghien Tu squeezed the car key and rushed out, the only thing left in his mind was Tham Chi Dao's cry: "Without you, what is the meaning of my life anymore?" He drove towards the military family area. The wind blew through the window, whipping his face painfully, but his heart felt inexplicably heavy. He always felt something was wrong. Luc Sanh's words "if you leave today, we will divorce" were so calm, so calm that they were not like her usual angry appearance. But he didn't have time to think carefully. On the phone, Tham Chi Dao was still crying intermittently, he could only press hard on the gas pedal. When we arrived at Tham Chi Dao's dormitory, the hallway was silent, not even the sound of footsteps.