Chapter 13 — The Summer Contract of Western Beauty and Beasts

A few days after the call with Ha Bich Tram, Nha Khanh received a text message from an unfamiliar phone number, the content was brief but enough to make her shiver: "I know where you are. Don't think you're safe by hiding. Contact me again in three days, otherwise I'll send someone to your place." There was no signature, but she immediately knew it was a threat from Trinh Khac Sang or his people.

Panicking, Nha Khanh did not dare to tell Bach Son immediately, afraid of making him more worried while he was focusing on preparing documents for the upcoming hearing. She sneaked out to the back garden and called Bich Tram to ask for advice, her voice shaking with panic.

"Calm down," Bich Tram reassured over the phone. "Let me try contacting a few acquaintances in the law industry to see if there is a legal way to deal with them. Don't do anything reckless on your own, and don't hide this from your husband. It's better to have someone around to take care of you."

Unfortunately, Nha Khanh's conversation, even though she intentionally hid behind the cow barn, still reached Bach Son's ears when he was on his way to check the nearby watering system. He stood still, hearing the last few sentences - "we owe tens of billions", "Trinh Khac Sang", "I'm afraid they will come here" - enough to make a mixture of anger and confusion flare up in his heart.

He never knew the specific amount of debt that Nha Khanh was carrying. During the past half year, she only talked vaguely about "having family financial troubles", never revealing how serious the scale really was. Bach Son's jaw clenched tightly, his steps on the path suddenly felt heavy as if he were stepping on the trust he had just placed in her over the past few months, even though in his heart he also understood that initially the two had agreed not to share all their personal secrets with each other.

That night, when Nha Khanh went into the kitchen to prepare a meal, Bach Son walked in, his face cold and different from usual.

"Your debt, how much?" he asked bluntly, his voice stiff.

Nha Khanh was stunned, her hand holding the vegetable knife stopped. "You... you heard that?"

"I accidentally overheard part of your call," Bach Son replied, not hiding his frustration. "How much do you owe, and who is the person threatening you? Why didn't you tell me from the beginning?"

Nha Khanh bowed her head, her hands trembling as she placed the knife on the cutting board. "I... I'm sorry. I don't want to drag you and An into this trouble. I think if I keep quiet, everything will be better."

"Better?" Bach Son raised his voice, he rarely lost his temper like that. "You live in my house, are my wife on paper, have the status of a member of this family, yet you hide such a large debt from me that someone threatens to come here? If they really appear, the people in danger are not only you, but also me and An!"

That sentence was like a knife cutting into Nha Khanh's heart. She understood that his anger was justified, but at the same time she felt deeply hurt, as if all her efforts to silently try to protect this small family from her troubles had become a betrayal in his eyes.

"I know I was wrong to hide it from you," she said, her voice choking, tears starting to flow. "But I really don't want you and An to worry or suffer anything related to my mistakes. That debt... is more than thirty billion dong, in my name because I was tricked into signing documents before the wedding day. The person who threatened me was Trinh Khac Sang, the creditor who colluded with my ex-fiancé to usurp my family's assets."

After Bach Son heard, his face gradually changed from anger to an indescribable shock. That number was too large, far beyond what he had ever imagined. He was silent for a long moment, his hands clenched into fists, trying to suppress the chaotic emotions swirling in his heart.

"Why didn't you tell me from the beginning, when we were talking about the marriage agreement?" he asked, his voice softer but still hurt. "I could have considered more carefully, prepared better for possible risks."

"I'm scared," Nha Khanh replied, her voice breaking in sobs. "I'm afraid if you knew how serious it was, you would have refused to let me stay in the first place. At that time I had nowhere else to go, I... I was selfish, I know, but I really had no other choice."

Bach Son turned his back, walked out of the kitchen, without saying another word, leaving Nha Khanh standing alone in the cold kitchen, tears rolling down endlessly. She understood that the fragile trust that the two of them had built together over the past half a year was now broken by the silence she once thought was the best way to protect everyone.

Bach Son went straight to the cow barn, stood against the wooden fence in the dark, looked up at the starless night sky, his heart full of chaos. He was $1 at the feeling of being hidden right in his own home, but at the same time he also understood that behind that anger there was a deeper fear - fear that the danger from Nha Khanh's past would lead to unpredictable consequences for his little daughter, who was already too fragile before the upheavals of life.

He remembered every moment over the past half year - Nha Khanh's smile when folding pebbles with An, her patience every night teaching her child to learn each word, the warm eyes she gave to both him and his father. Those things couldn't be lies, he told himself, but the anger still hadn't subsided, mixed with a confusion of not knowing how much to trust, how to protect his family from a threat whose true scale was much larger than he had ever imagined.

Uncle Sau Lanh, hearing the small argument coming from the kitchen earlier, quietly went to look for Bach Son. Seeing him standing alone in the dark, he approached and put his hand on his shoulder.

"I heard it all," he said, his voice low. "You're right to be angry, but think about it, what Khanh hid from you wasn't because he was mean, but because he was afraid of losing the only support he had after so many incidents. People in the same situation, sometimes do things not because of calculation, but because of fear."

Bach Son was silent, not responding immediately. Uncle Sau patted his shoulder one more time and then quietly left, leaving him alone to face his own chaotic thoughts in the quiet dark night of Suong Hill farm.

Meanwhile, Nha Khanh tidied up the kitchen in tears, then quietly returned to her room, not daring to go out to look for him for fear that it would only make things more tense. She sat by the window for a long time, hugging her pillow in her arms, looking out at the dark yard, filled with regret for not having had the courage to share the truth sooner. She was afraid, not only afraid of danger from Trinh Khac Sang, but also more afraid of losing the trust of the man who had silently become her greatest spiritual support since the day she set foot in this strange land.

That night, both of them, even though they were only separated by a thin wall, spent hours of tossing and turning unable to sleep, each holding their own feelings, neither of them had the courage to cross the gap that had just formed between them, even though both of them, deep down, did not want this fragile but precious relationship to be broken just because of a secret hidden in fear.

Near dawn, Nha Khanh heard familiar footsteps stopping in front of her door for a long time, then leaving without knocking. She knew it was Bach Son, perhaps he was also struggling between unresolved anger and something else, deeper, that made him unable to truly take off his shirt and leave her alone in the dark night. She sat up, her heart pounding, but then hesitated, not daring to open the door to call him back, afraid that the words she said now, when their emotions were still too tense, would only make things worse.

The next morning, the atmosphere in the house was heavier than usual. Tue An, who was sensitive to changes in the surrounding atmosphere even though she didn't understand the cause, kept looking around from her father and then back to Nha Khanh. Her face flashed with a rare feeling of insecurity, her hand tightened her grip on the familiar pebble as if she was looking for a fulcrum amidst the vague turmoil that she felt but couldn't name.

Looking at their daughter like that, both Bach Son and Nha Khanh could not help but feel sad, realizing that no matter what the conflict between the two adults was, they could not let that tension continue to affect the innocent child in the middle. That was a common thought, even though no one had said it out loud, that had silently sparked in both of their hearts an urge to find a way to reconcile, even though there were still many things that needed to be thoroughly explained on the road ahead.