Chapter 1 — The Summer Contract of Western Beauty and Beasts

On an April morning, the Saigon sun shone through the tempered glass of the twentieth floor of the Duong Phat building, shining in long streaks on the marble floor. Duong Nha Khanh stood in front of the large mirror in her private dressing room, gently smoothing the ivory wedding ao dai that was being adjusted by the tailor for the last time. There were exactly ten days left until the wedding, and she still couldn't help but feel like she was standing in a dream that she hadn't yet fully understood.

"Miss Khanh, stand up straight, let me adjust the waistline," the tailor said, holding several pins in his mouth.

Nha Khanh nodded, her eyes still looking into the mirror but her mind had drifted away. At twenty-six, she was the only daughter of Mr. Duong Khai Phong, founder of Duong Phat company - once a powerful name in the southern agricultural export industry. As a child, she grew up surrounded by her father's foreign business trips, dinner parties for partners, and custom-made dresses from Italy. People still called her "the flower of the Tang family" — beautiful, gentle, and so overprotected that she had never really faced life on her own.

But in the past three years, the name Duong Phat was no longer as bright as before. A series of investment contracts in the Western cold storage chain failed, foreign partners withdrew capital midway, and due bank loans kept accumulating in installments. Her father, the man who once stood on the podium to speak at major conferences, now had sleepless nights with piles of documents, his face visibly haggard. Nha Khanh knew, but she only knew part of it. Her father always said, "Don't worry about business, just mind your own business."

And that "child thing", it turns out, is the upcoming marriage with Lam Viet Cuong.

Viet Cuong was the son of a longtime partner of Duong Phat, mature, well-spoken, and always knew how to make others feel cared for. He appeared right when the company was at its most wobbly, bringing with him a new investment cooperation proposal, and a marriage proposal that made Nha Khanh's family breathe a sigh of relief as if they had caught a straw in the middle of a rushing stream. Her father once held her hand, his eyes both apologetic and hopeful, saying that this marriage would help the company overcome the most difficult period, that Viet Cuong was a good person and would know how to take care of her.

Nha Khanh did not object. She was not the type of person who liked to make a fuss. Since childhood, she has been accustomed to nodding to prearranged decisions, accustomed to believing that her family always knows what is best for her. Furthermore, she also has certain feelings for Viet Cuong - he is always gentle, always present when she needs her, always saying words that make her feel secure.

"It's done, Miss Khanh," the tailor stepped back and looked. "You look so beautiful in this dress, I'm sure everyone on your wedding day will be amazed."

Nha Khanh smiled, the smile was a bit more forced than she thought. She looked at herself in the mirror - a girl with a delicate face, big round eyes, and a small, faint petal-shaped birthmark on her left wrist that she used to cover with her sleeve every time she went out. Her mother once said that the birthmark was a sign of blessing, that a girl with the flower mark on her hand would live a peaceful life. Nha Khanh doesn't really believe in such things, but she still likes to think about it whenever she feels uneasy.

And today, for some reason, she felt more uneasy than usual.

Maybe it was because yesterday, when passing by her father's office, she vaguely heard a phone call. Her father spoke to someone in an unusually urgent voice, repeating the phrases "transfer" and "deadline" over and over again. When he saw her appear at the door, he quickly hung up, his face briefly confused before regaining his familiar composure.

"What's the matter, father?" she asked.

"Nothing, just a company matter. Just worry about preparing the wedding well." He patted her shoulder gently, his smile a bit forced.

Nha Khanh didn't think much at that time. She trusted her father absolutely, believing that no matter how difficult the company was, he would find a way to manage, as he always did throughout the decades of building his career. She did not know that behind that office door, the debts were beyond the family's ability to pay, and the only person who could still maintain a calm appearance in the house was the one who was about to pay the heaviest price.

In the afternoon, Viet Cuong came to visit, bringing a bouquet of white lilies - her favorite flower. He sat down next to her in the living room, put his arm naturally on her shoulder, and talked about his honeymoon plans and the new apartment he was preparing in the downtown area.

"Only ten more days," Viet Cuong said, his voice gentle. "Are you nervous?"

"Yes," Nha Khanh smiled lightly. "I never thought this day would come so quickly."

"Don't worry, I'm here." Viet Cuong gently squeezed her hand. "Ah, tomorrow I need you to sign a few papers. The bank needs to complete the procedures for opening a joint account before the wedding, and there are also a few papers related to the dowry that my family has prepared for us, which must be done early before the wedding day."

"What documents?" she asked, not paying much attention.

"It's all administrative procedures, you don't need to read it carefully, just sign where I marked. Your dad and I have gone through it all." Viet Cuong smiled, a familiar smile that always made her feel secure. "You trust me, right?"

Nha Khanh nodded without hesitation. "Of course I believe you."

Little did she know, those words — "I believe in you" — would become something she tormented many nights later.

That evening, after Viet Cuong returned, Nha Khanh sat alone in the room, opened her phone to review the guest list for the wedding, checking every small detail such as the table layout, the color of the flower decorations, and the song that would play when she entered the ceremony. She was the type of meticulous person who wanted everything to be perfect, even if it's just the smallest details on the big day of her life.

Outside the window, the city lights up brightly like every night. Nha Khanh was unaware that, not far away, in another room in the city, Lam Viet Cuong was sitting across from a man named Trinh Khac Sang - the owner of a notorious pawn shop and loan shark named Tin Phat - discussing numbers, deadlines, and a plan that had been meticulously outlined many months ago.

"Is everything ready?" Trinh Khac Sang asked, his voice hoarse, his fingers tapping on the wooden table.

"It's all done," Viet Cuong replied, taking a sip of wine, his eyes without any ripples. "She will sign tomorrow. She trusts me completely, she won't read it carefully."

"That's good." Trinh Khac Sang curled his lips and smiled, a cold smile. "Once I get the signature, I'll take care of the rest."

Viet Cuong nodded, not a bit guilty. To him, Duong Nha Khanh was just a necessary pawn in a larger game - a game in which the final reward was all that was left of Duong Phat's company, plus a lucrative commission from Trinh Khac Sang for "introducing" a new, obedient and unsuspecting debtor.

Meanwhile, in a room a few kilometers away, Nha Khanh was still engrossed in colored pieces of paper and wedding invitation templates, dreaming of a future that she was sure would be happy. She didn't know that, in just a few days, her whole life would turn in a completely different direction - a direction that would take her away from marble rooms, away from dresses tailored from abroad, and then one day exhausted, falling down in front of the old wooden gate of a strange farm, where a quiet man and a small girl were waiting, even though they themselves never knew it.

She folded up the last wedding invitation, placed it on the table, smiled and looked out the window. "Ten days from now," she whispered to herself, "everything will be fine."

Outside, Saigon's night still sparkles with lights, perfectly concealing all the plots that are silently forming beneath that flashy shell.

Nearly ten o'clock in the evening, Nha Khanh's phone rang. It's Ha Bich Tram, her best friend since college, the only one among her old friends who still keeps in regular contact with her despite her busy work at a media company.

"Are you free tomorrow to try on wedding shoes with me?" Bich Tram asked, her voice cheerful and familiar.

"Tomorrow probably won't work," Nha Khanh replied, "Viet Cuong said I have to sign some bank papers tomorrow, then I can calculate it."

The other end of the line was silent for a moment. "What are the urgent documents? Have you read them carefully?"

"It's probably a normal procedure, he and my dad have gone through it all." Nha Khanh smiled slightly, somewhat indifferently.

"Well... I don't mean anything by it, but you're the most careful person I know, so why does everyone else have to take care of this?" Bich Tram hesitated. "Is your company okay these days? I heard some people in the industry whispering that Duong Phat is having trouble."

That question made Nha Khanh pause for a few seconds. She remembered her father's phone call yesterday, his haggard face in recent weeks, and the confused look in his eyes when he saw her standing at the office door. But then she shook her head, reassuring herself.

"It's probably fine, my dad told me something," she replied, her voice gentle as if just saying it would make all her worries disappear. "Don't think too much, let me finish the paperwork and then we can go try on shoes later, okay?"

"Okay, better be careful." Bich Tram did not say more, but there was still some uneasiness in her heart. She knew Nha Khanh's personality - trusting to the point of sometimes being naive, especially with the people she loves. Since the day she met Lam Viet Cuong, Nha Khanh had almost entrusted all big and small decisions to him, something that Bich Tram was not completely assured about, even though she had never had any specific evidence to voice her objection.

Hanging up the phone, Nha Khanh sat with her back against the headboard, looking up at the ceiling. She thought about Bich Tram's question, about the company, about her father. There was a small corner of her heart that was still smoldering with insecurity, like a thin thread that had not yet been completely broken. But she got used to putting those feelings aside, used to believing that the people around her — her father, Viet Cuong — always knew how to handle things better than she did.

She stood up and walked out to the balcony. The night wind blew gently, carrying moisture and the distant sound of car horns echoing from the streets below. Looking down at the busy traffic flow even though it was late at night, Nha Khanh suddenly thought, wondering what the lives of ordinary people, without having to worry about companies or arranged marriages, would be like. She had never really experienced it. From childhood to adulthood, every step she took was planned, smooth and somewhat luxurious, but also as narrow as a carefully polished lipstick cage.

She didn't know that in just a few days, that lipstick cage would break overnight, and she would have to learn to walk on her own two feet, in a completely strange land, with no one to show her the way anymore.

Returning to the room, she turned off the light, lay down on the bed, trying to fall asleep. But until late at night, she was still tossing and turning, Bich Tram's words echoing in her head - "did you read carefully" - like a vague reminder that she was not alert enough to listen.