Chapter 4 — The Inn at the End of the Pass

The survey team's vehicle was finally repaired that weekend, but instead of leaving immediately, Khai Dang asked for permission to stay longer to "additionally survey a few geological points along the road slope," a reason that sounded so reasonable that Phu and Sinh themselves did not suspect anything, although they were somewhat surprised to see their superior suddenly enthusiastic about a pass that the original plan was to survey in two days.

That morning, Khai Dang woke up earlier than usual and went to the backyard to help Thao chop firewood before she could stop him.

"You don't need to do that, you're a guest."

"What kind of guest stays like family for a week?" He smiled, his hands still nimbly chopping each piece of firewood, his movements were not as clumsy as she thought of someone who only holds a pen and draws maps all day. "Besides, being idle is boring, I'd rather do something to stop my foot fetish."

Thao stood looking at him for a while, not saying anything, just quietly observing the way he worked - carefully, decisively, unobtrusively but firmly. There was something about Khai Dang's presence that made the familiar backyard suddenly become different and warmer, as if a missing puzzle piece had just been placed in its right place without her previously realizing its emptiness.

That afternoon, a young guest - a girl traveling alone by motorbike - complained bitterly about losing a fanny pack while stopping for lunch, insisting that the blame was on "the kids in the restaurant who must have turned their eyes off," glancing straight at Nhat Minh sitting nearby. The boy's face turned red, he stammered speechlessly, while Thuy Duong stood frozen, her eyes filled with tears.

"Are you sure you died here and didn't fall along the way?" Thao stepped forward, her voice still polite but somewhat tougher.

"I left it right on the dining table. If I turn around, it's gone. If it weren't for these kids, who else would come in here?" The girl raised her voice, attracting the attention of the entire cafeteria.

Before Thao could respond, Khai Dang stepped forward from somewhere, his voice calm but full of weight. "Sorry, I've been sitting at the table next to you all this time, and I clearly saw you hanging your bag on the motorbike hook in the yard, and never brought it to the dining table. Are you remembering wrong?"

The girl froze, looked confused, quickly ran to the yard to check, and sure enough, the bag was still hanging on the car hook, just hidden behind the rain cover so she didn't notice. She turned around, mumbled an apology, her face turned red with embarrassment, then quickly paid for the food and left immediately afterwards.

Nhat Minh ran over and hugged Khai Dang, his voice still shaking slightly because he had just experienced injustice. "Thank you, Uncle Dang! You're really good, you pay close attention."

"I'm just telling the truth." Khai Dang rubbed the boy's head, his eyes gentle. "But next time someone says something unfair, don't be afraid. Just say it straight out that you won't take it, don't take it to heart."

Thuy Duong stood nearby, looking at that scene with complicated eyes - both grateful and somewhat self-pitying, as if she was wondering why a strange man she had only known for less than two weeks was willing to stand up and defend her siblings so fiercely, while the biological father who had abandoned her and her mother before Mrs. Ha met Mr. Chinh had never done the same thing, not even once.

Late that afternoon, as Thao tried to dry a few blankets from the guests checking out, Thuy Duong came closer, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, hesitating before speaking.

"Miss Thao, how do you feel about Uncle Dang?"

"What do you mean?" Thao asked again, still quickly shaking the blanket flat.

"I mean... is he really nice or is he just trying to please my family? Since a new road is about to be built, maybe he just wants to spy on my family to report back to the company, so they know how to negotiate cheaper compensation."

Her question made Thao pause for a moment. She didn't expect that Thuy Duong, at the age of sixteen, could think so far ahead and be so skeptical - perhaps a result of growing up in a family that had been abandoned twice, by her biological father and then her biological mother, causing her to learn how to defend against anyone who showed too much kindness.

"I don't think so." Thao replied, her voice more certain than she actually felt. "But what you say makes sense, we still have to be careful, don't put all our trust in anyone too soon. It's just... sometimes being too careful makes us miss out on sincere people, honey."

Thuy Duong was silent, lowering her head to look down at her worn-out plastic sandals. She didn't say anything more, but her eyes softened somewhat, as if Thao's answer had touched her deepest concern that she didn't dare to say out loud.

That evening, after the guests had settled down in the room, Thao brought out tea to Khai Dang as a thank you.

"Thank you for what happened at noon. If it weren't for you, little Minh would have been very unhappy."

"It's just a small thing." Khai Dang received the cup of tea and smiled. "That boy is very good and smart. He asked me all the time about geology, about how people survey terrain, every question was sharp, not like a normal child."

"He has loved drawing maps since he was young. My father used to take him along the pass, showing him every turn, telling stories about each bridge and each stream." Thao looked into the distance, her voice lowered. "It's a pity that he passed away so early, before he could see it grow up."

"You've mentioned your father many times. He must be a very important person to you."

"He is everything." Thao replied without hesitation. "He taught me how to cook each dish, how to keep books, how to treat guests. But more importantly, he taught me that a family does not have to share the same blood to be called a family. He once said, home is where people choose to stay for each other, not because they have to."

Khai Dang was silent, his eyes looking at Thao thoughtfully. "That sentence is so good. It should be engraved on that wooden sign."

Thao burst out laughing, for the first time that day her laughter was no longer forced or tired. "Who knows, maybe someday I'll really engrave more."

The conversation between the two gradually became more natural, no longer the cautious scrutiny of the early days. Khai Dang talked about his childhood wandering around the construction site of his father - also a construction engineer - constantly changing schools, never having a group of friends that he could keep for long, never having a room he called his own for more than two years. Thao listened, feeling the smoldering loneliness behind his usual calm voice.

"So when I saw this inn," Khai Dang said, looking out at the dark courtyard, where the crescent moon was peeking behind the mountains, "I felt jealous of you, even though you were burdened with so many things. At least you have a place to return to, there are people who sincerely wait for you every night."

"Sometimes the place to return to is very heavy." Thao sighed, but it wasn't a complaint, just a truth she had long accepted. "But yes, I'm grateful to have it."

The deeper the night, the colder the wind on the pass, but both of them still sat there, neither wanting to be the first to get up, as if this conversation had too many things left unsaid, and they both implicitly understood that, no matter what tomorrow brings, evenings like this are gradually becoming an indispensable part of the rhythm of both of their lives.

While the two were still chatting on the porch, Nhat Minh's window opened slightly. The boy should have been asleep a long time ago, but because he was thinking about the afternoon's terrain survey, he woke up and heard murmuring voices outside in the yard, so he looked out curiously. In the dim darkness, he saw his sister and uncle Dang sitting next to each other, not saying much, just quietly looking towards the mountain, looking strangely peaceful. For some reason, the boy suddenly smiled, gently closed the window, then snuggled into the blanket and slept soundly, with the naive thought lingering in his mind that it would be nice if Uncle Dang stayed here forever - not because of the map drawing lessons, but because he had never seen his sister Thao look so relieved in the four years since her father passed away.

The next morning, when the whole family gathered for breakfast, Nhat Minh innocently blurted out what he saw last night, making Thao blush, while Khai Dang was confused and coughed a few times, trying to change the story. Thuy Duong covered her mouth and giggled, and Gia Binh, who had just returned from the garage early in the morning, just glanced at both of them and said nothing, but his eyes were no longer as cold as the first days, perhaps because the plate of sticky rice and the note of apology from the previous day had silently eased the ice between the two sisters.