Chapter 4 — My Own Spring

Pho Nghien Tu took three steps and rushed forward. As soon as she pushed the door open, she saw Tham Chi Dao sitting on the floor, hugging her knees and crying. There wasn't even anything dangerous next to her. Seeing him enter, her eyes lit up and she immediately rushed to hug his arm. "Mr. Nghien Tu, I knew you would definitely come. I thought you really didn't need me anymore." Pho Nghien Tu's hanging heart finally lowered, followed by an indescribable feeling of fatigue. He pulled his arm back, his tone lowered. "Chi Dao, I told you, before he sacrificed himself, your brother asked me to take care of you, of course I will care for you." "But you can't joke with your life." "I'm just scared." Tham Chi Dao sniffed his nose, his eyes red. "You suddenly said you won't see me anymore, and you want to take your sister-in-law to the border guard company. That's where we promised to go together." "If My brother knows I don't need you anymore, even if he's under the golden stream, he won't be at ease." Again, this sentence. Every time she mentioned her fallen comrade, Pho Nghien Tu was unable to say harsh words. That year, Tham Chi Dao's older brother, Tham Phong, died at Con Luan Pass because he blocked rolling rocks for him. Before he passed away, he entrusted his only sister to his care. Over the past five years, he always felt that he owed the Tham family, almost meeting all of Tham Chi Dao's requests. Even though sometimes she was a bit too disruptive, he just thought the little girl didn't understand and told Luc Sanh to be more tolerant. But today, Luc Sanh's face kept appearing in his mind. The two words "divorce" are like a needle, piercing into his chest, making him uncomfortable. "Don't interfere in the matter between me and your sister-in-law." Pho Nghien Tu pressed between his eyebrows. "From now on, I will send you living expenses every month. If you want to find a job, I can also help arrange it, but we should keep a distance. This will be good for both you and me." Tham Chi Dao's face turned white for a moment. She still wanted to say something but was interrupted by Pho Nghien Tu. "I'll go home first, you should rest early." He turned and left. Behind him, Tham Chi Dao's cry was heard again, but he did not turn around anymore. The car drove towards the house, the night became darker and darker, the feeling of insecurity in his heart also became heavier and heavier. He always felt that this time Luc Sanh was telling the truth, but still held a ray of luck. In the past five years, every time the two of them got angry, in the end it was she who went down first, all he needed was a few words of coaxing. This time, at most, she was just too angry. Waiting for him to come back and talk to him properly and agree to take her with him, she would definitely stop being angry. But when the car stopped under the house, the lights in the house were completely dark. Pho Nghien Tu's heart skipped a beat. He quickly ran upstairs and took the key to open the door. The sensor light in the mysterious gate lights up. The space was empty, there was no sign of the usual person who ran out to greet him when they heard him open the door, and there was no smell of food being kept warm. In the living room, the dark blue scarf he brought home was still placed on the sofa armrest, even the packaging had not been removed. On the dining table was placed a file bag made of vellum. He walked over and opened it, inside was the signed divorce agreement and a copy of the miscarriage diagnosis paper. The date on the diagnosis paper was correct the next day of that winter, when he left Luc Sanh alone outside the barracks gate. Pho Nghien Tu's fingers suddenly tightened, the paper was squeezed into deep wrinkles. He stumbled into the bedroom. The wardrobe was more than half empty. Luc Sanh's clothes, dresses, and the ivory white sweater she often wore were all gone. Hair ties, care items

The skin and books she often read on the nightstand also disappeared, as if she had never lived here. Only the souvenirs he brought back from everywhere in the office are still there, but they have long lost Luc Sanh's warmth. He took out his phone to call Luc Sanh, only a cold voice came from the phone: "The subscriber you just called is now turned off." Once, twice, three times, it's always turned off. He opened WeChat again, the conversation still stopped at the sentence "Why aren't you at home?" which he sent in the afternoon, received no reply. He scrolled up, scrolled to five months ago. From one day, Luc Sanh no longer proactively sent him any messages. In the past, his WeChat was filled with everyday stories she sent: today the roses in the yard bloomed, today she cooked soup waiting for him to return, today when she saw the news it was cooling over there so she told him to put on more clothes. Most of those messages he just glanced at, sometimes he was busy and didn't even reply. Now the chat box was as quiet as a dead puddle, finally causing him to panic. He grabbed his coat and rushed out, driving to On Dich's house. When the door opened, On Dich stood in front of the door with his arms crossed. As soon as he saw him, he smiled coldly. "Major General Pho is truly an honored guest. Why don't you go be with your good sister instead of running to me?"