Chapter 9 — Ten Children?

Mr. Nam's barbershop wants to expand and advertise online, but he doesn't understand the Internet at all. Tran Du immediately took advantage of the weekend, spent his own money to contact a friend who specializes in advertising, and even stayed up all night to help Mr. Nam write a set of familiar advertising content. More importantly, when doing those things, Tran Du never told me his credit in front of me. He never asked me to choose between love and the nine brothers, let alone said things like:

“Can you worry less about your family?”

The scene of the day he proposed, I will remember for the rest of my life. He did not book an entire high-class restaurant, did not prepare roses everywhere, and did not call a group of friends to organize an ostentatious ceremony. He just took one weekend and brought me back to a familiar house. In the middle of the yard, he had prepared a square table. Ten clean white porcelain cups were neatly placed on the table. Hot tea is poured inside, the aroma of tea spreads. Tran Du, dressed in a neat suit, walked in front of her sitting on a rattan chair, lifted the first cup of tea with both hands, then knelt down on one knee.

“Grandma, thank you for bringing An An home in the past.”

“Later, I will return with her.”

Then, he stood up and walked in front of nine people lined up with different expressions on their faces. He didn't say any unnecessary words, just raised each cup of tea in turn, using both hands to bring it in front of each person. From Elder Chu Tranh to Chin, he successively offered nine glasses. After drinking the last cup of tea, Tran Du turned around and walked towards me. He took out the ring from his pocket and knelt down again:

"Trinh An, everyone agrees to have one more person in the house."

“Now all that's missing is you.”

“Do you agree?”

I blushed and nodded.

“I agree.”

Elder Chu Tranh looked at that scene, picked up the tea cup and drank it in one gulp. He wasn't smiling, but his eye sockets were intensely red. He walked over, used his rough hands to squeeze Tran Du's shoulder, his voice carrying an undisguised warning and message:

“Tran Du, you must remember carefully.”

“Today our sister does not have to marry out.”

"But from now on, this old house has one more person."

“If you dare to let her suffer a little bit of resentment, we nine people who do heavy work absolutely will not agree.”

Tran Du endured the pain in his shoulder, did not retreat, but instead nodded forcefully and seriously replied:

“Elder, I understand.”

She sat not far away looking at that scene, smiling so much that all the wrinkles on her face relaxed. That evening, the house had a very sumptuous table of food. She always ate very little, but that day she broke her habit and ate two full bowls of white rice. ## 14 Life has never worked according to people's wishes. In the late fall of the year I was getting married, she suddenly fell ill. She was too old, her heart and lung function was seriously depleted, even breathing normally became extremely difficult. The doctor held the critical note and cleverly told us that she didn't have much time left, so we should take her home to rest soon, so that she could comfortably go through her final journey. The nine brothers all quit their jobs almost on the same day and returned to the house. Chu Tranh closed his car repair shop. Tran Thuc handed over the restaurant to his students. Mr. Ba refused all long-distance trips. They were crowded into the small, narrow room taking vigil at her bedside. Someone brought her water, someone prepared medicine, someone turned her body every half an hour. I also took a long leave from the research institute, day and night I stayed by the bed, my eyes awake until they were bloodshot. But she started criticizing us. One afternoon, she had difficulty removing the oxygen mask, looked around at the tall men standing in front of the bed, frowned and waved her hands weakly.

“You all crowded into one room, blocking out the light from outside.”

“Ten people surrounded an old woman, the air was not enough to breathe.”

She scolded all nine brothers to go out, leaving only me sitting next to the bed. The room was quiet, except for the heavy hum of the oxygen generator. I squeezed her cold, dry hand, tears kept falling. I leaned close to her ear, chokingly asking if she was afraid. She shook her head slightly, the corner of her lips even had a peaceful smile.

“What is there to fear?”

She panted and spoke intermittently:

“When she was young, she cooked large pots of rice alone in the cold, deserted kitchen, and had no biological children her whole life.”

“But look, now I just need to close my eyes, there are ten good children standing outside the door.”

“Your life is already too much.”

After speaking, she used all her strength to point under the pillow. I followed her hand and took out an old, tattered notebook wrapped in a red silk cloth. Opening the notebook, the pages inside were yellow and covered in her crooked handwriting. The book clearly states the exact date each of us arrived at the house, what clothes we were wearing, what injuries we had on our bodies, and how old we were. What made me cry even harder was that the last line on each page recorded the day we first called her “ma’am.” The last page neatly wrote my name: Trinh An. Next to it is a record of that year's big snow day and an old life jacket. She patted the notebook, looked at me, her voice extremely serious:

“An An, remember well.”

"In the past, she took the children home one by one and gave them a bowl of rice, not so that in the future they would spend the rest of their lives with this old woman, taking care of food and hygiene."

“I just want you to know what family is.”

“If you want to grow up, you can be upright and happy to live the life that belongs to you.”

“Even if she is no longer around, you should not feel that this family is broken.”

“Where the children are, the family is there.”

That night, she woke up for the last time. She stubbornly asked us to help her sit against the head of the bed, then asked all nine brothers to stand in front of her. She looked at the men who were once mischievous and caused trouble, but have now become men who can take care of heaven and earth. She did not advise about savings, nor did she make arrangements for the funeral. She used the last of her strength to clearly repeat the three sentences that had been posted on the wall in the past. Only this time, they became strict instructions:

“From now on, don't fight and cause trouble.”

“Don't rely on your strength and money to bully weaker people.”

“No matter how busy it is outside, when it gets dark, you still have to remember to come home for a hot meal.”

After instructing those three sentences, she let out a long breath and tiredly closed her eyes. A few days later, one morning when the sunlight was just shining into the yard, she quietly left us in her sleep.