Chapter 24 — No One Wants to Lose

Nine days before the registration deadline for the city-level tournament became a completely different journey than what Lam Khe had experienced during her previous training. Instead of stressful, pressured training sessions, Nam Phong proposes a new approach, slower but more solid.

"We won't do any tactical analysis today," he said in the first practice session after the reconciliation, when the two sat down at the familiar chess board in room 203. "Just simply play, enjoy, like we did in the first sessions."

Lam Khe smiled, feeling the thoughtfulness in the way Nam Phong adjusted his training method, no longer focusing only on results but also paying more attention to her psychological state than before.

Subsequent training sessions took place at a much more balanced pace — alternating between sessions of serious tactical analysis and periods of relaxation, conversation, and sometimes simply a fun, unscored game of blitz chess. Nam Phong also proactively asked about Lam Khe's situation more often, not only about chess but also about life, and about the relationship with her father that was gradually mending.

"How is your father these days?" he asked during a practice session, his tone of sincere concern.

"Much better," Lam Khe replied, smiling slightly. "We talk to each other a lot more than before. My dad even said he would come see me compete in the city-level tournament, if I was chosen to participate."

"You will definitely be chosen," Nam Phong said, his voice full of confidence. "Your form is gradually returning, I can see it clearly."

Indeed, through each training session, Lam Khe felt her confidence gradually being restored, but in a different way than before — not impulsive, hasty confidence, but a calmer confidence, built on a foundation of deeper self-understanding after everything she had been through.

One afternoon, Nam Phong brought a special exercise — not an ordinary tactical chess position, but a game that simulated a high-pressure situation, where Lam Khe had to make quick decisions within a time limit, like what she might encounter at a city-level tournament.

"I wanted to try a different approach," he explained. "Instead of just practicing technique, we will also practice the ability to control emotions under pressure. Every time you feel fear rising during a match, instead of trying to ignore it, try to stop for a second, breathe, and ask yourself: is this real fear about this move, or is old fear creeping in?"

Lam Khe listened attentively, realizing that this was exactly what she needed — not to try to completely eliminate fear, which is almost impossible, but to learn how to differentiate and manage it more effectively.

They practiced that method over many simulated games, and gradually, Lam Khe found she could more accurately identify when her defensive reaction came from rational calculation, and when it was simply an old fear reflex trying to control her.

"You're progressing really fast," Nam Phong commented after a particularly effective training session, when Lam Khe successfully overcame three high-pressure situations in a row without falling into a frozen state like before. "I think you're ready for the city tournament."

"Thanks for your company," Lam Khe said, looking at him with sincere gratitude. "I don't think I can get through this difficult time alone."

"You did most of the work yourself," Nam Phong replied, modestly but sincerely. "I'm just giving you a few tools, but applying them, daring to face yourself, that's entirely your effort."

On the last day before the registration deadline, the whole team gathered in room 203 for Mr. Hung to officially announce the list of school representatives attending the city-level tournament. There was tension in the air as everyone waited.

"The official lineup for the city-level tournament," Mr. Hung read aloud, "Vuong Nam Phong, Nguyen Lam Khe, Quang Minh, and Duc Anh — keeping the same lineup that won the regional championship."

Applause echoed throughout the room, and Lam Khe felt a complete happiness, completely different from the anxiety and confusion of the previous weeks. She looked at Nam Phong, the two exchanged a meaningful smile, no more words were needed to understand the journey they had gone through together to get to this point.

That evening, when he got home, Lam Khe excitedly told his father about being officially selected to participate in the city-level tournament. Her father hugged her, a rare gesture but full of sincere affection. "I'm so proud of you," he said, his voice choking. "Not just because you were chosen, but because of how you overcame all the difficulties to get here."

Lam Khe hugged her father back, feeling a complete warmth that she hadn't had for six long years, a feeling of being truly understood, trusted, and loved unconditionally. Even though her whole family still had many wounds that hadn't fully healed, now, they were facing them together, instead of each person silently suffering alone like before.

The dinner that night became a small family celebration, when Lam Khe's mother, who had just returned from a long business trip, also joined in the joy after hearing that her daughter had been selected for the official team. "I heard your father briefly tell you everything that happened in the past few weeks," she said, holding Lam Khe's hand, her eyes both sad and proud. "I'm sorry for not being home when you needed me the most."

"It's okay, mom," Lam Khe replied, smiling reassuringly. "Everything is fine now. I also learned many important things from those difficulties."

After dinner, the whole family sat in the living room. Her father took out the old chess board, which had been carefully kept in the closet for many years but was rarely used. "It's been a long time since the three of us played together," he said, his eyes a bit hesitant, as if he was still hesitant about the ghosts of the past associated with that chessboard.

Lam Khe looked at the Chinese chess board, feeling a complexity in his heart - no longer the paralyzing fear like before, but still a bit of natural reserve. She took a deep breath, then smiled. "Let's play with dad," she said. "But this time, I'm just playing for fun, I'm not betting anything, not even money or fear."

Her father laughed at that humorous but meaningful expression and nodded in agreement. They played a slow, leisurely game of Chinese chess, with Lam Khe's mother sitting next to them, watching, occasionally contributing a few cheerful comments even though she didn't understand much about the rules of the game. This was the first time in six years that the whole family gathered together around a chess board without any trace of tension or obsession, just simple joy of togetherness.

The game ended in a draw, but neither father nor son cared about that result. What's more important is the moment they created together — a new, positive memory, enough to gradually replace the old, painful memories that have haunted this chessboard for years.

"Thank you," her father said as he packed up the chess pieces, his voice choked with emotion. "For giving me the opportunity to create a new memory with this chess board, one that I can remember with pride, instead of just regret."

"Thank you, dad," Lam Khe replied, "for always trying, even though there were difficult times, to become a better version of yourself. I think, that's what I'm learning from chess — not to never make mistakes, but to always try to do better after each mistake."

That night, Lam Khe went to her room with a heart full of peace and hope, ready for new challenges waiting at the city level tournament, not as someone who is always afraid of loss, but as someone who has learned to believe - in herself, in her family, and in those who are always ready to accompany her on every journey ahead.

Before turning off the light, she opened the notebook and wrote a new line below the old pages: "Today our whole family plays a game of chess without winning or losing. Perhaps that is the most important game I have ever played." She closed the notebook, smiled, and fell into a sleep deeper and more peaceful than any night in weeks.