Chapter 16 — The Summer Contract of Western Beauty and Beasts

The day the first hearing took place, Bao Loc's sky was a rare clear blue, and the cold air typical of the plateau covered the road leading down to the town court. Nha Khanh wore a simple light blue long dress, her hair tied in a neat bun, completely different from the image of the elegant young lady she once was, but exuding a much more loving and mature look. Bach Son wore the only suit he kept from his time working in the city, his face was serious but could not hide the tension in his eyes.

Before entering the courtroom, lawyer Vuong Dinh Khai held both of their hands with reassuring eyes. "Just stay calm, answer honestly according to what you two have been through together. Don't try to overact, honesty is always more convincing than any performance."

In the courtroom, Ms. Do Ngoc Lan and Mr. Do Quang Vinh sat on the opposite side, Ms. Ngoc Lan's face showed tension, while Mr. Quang Vinh was thoughtful, occasionally glancing at Tue An who was sitting next to Nha Khanh in the back row, her hand clutching a familiar pebble brought from the farm to keep calm.

The hearing began with a presentation by lawyer Thai Bao Long, representing the plaintiff. He presented in a sharp, logical manner, emphasizing the suspicious coincidence of the marriage time, the lack of information about the acquaintance between the two people, and questioning the authenticity of the marriage.

"Your Honor," lawyer Bao Long said, his voice echoing throughout the courtroom, "we do not deny that Mr. Nhieu Bach Son is a responsible father. But the fact that he hastily got married just a few weeks after receiving notice of this lawsuit raises a big question about the real motive. Is this a sincere marriage, or just a legal tactic staged to deal with today's trial?"

When it was lawyer Khai's turn to present, he calmly presented carefully prepared evidence - the psychological assessment report by doctor Tu Ngoc Diem showing Tue An's clear progress over the past half year, videos recording warm family activities, the testimony of uncle Sau Lanh and some villagers about the real close relationship between Nha Khanh and little Tue An.

After the presentation of evidence, the presiding judge, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes but no lack of kindness, turned to question both husband and wife directly.

"Mr. Bach Son, Ms. Nha Khanh, I want to ask directly, without going through a lawyer," she said, her voice serious but gentle. "What exactly is your marriage? Is it an arrangement for convenience, or are there real feelings between the two of you?"

The atmosphere in the courtroom slackened, all eyes turned to Bach Son and Nha Khanh. This was the moment that lawyer Khai had carefully prepared, but no one, including the two people involved, could have predicted how much emotional weight the answer would carry.

Bach Son stood up first, gently squeezed Nha Khanh's hand who was sitting next to him, his eyes looked straight at the judge, his voice sounded firm, without trembling. "Your honor, I don't deny that initially this marriage started from a pragmatic agreement. She needed a safe haven, I needed to prove that I had a complete family to protect my right to raise my daughter. But what I feel after half a year of living with her is no longer simply an agreement."

He paused for a moment, took a deep breath, then continued, his voice somewhat choked with genuine emotion. "I saw her patiently sit with my daughter for hours to teach her each simple stroke. I saw her learn how to milk a cow, how to grow tea, even though she had never done such things in her life before. And I realized, the line between playing the role of a husband and truly cherishing her, at a certain point, I could no longer distinguish — it was no longer contained within any terms we had written down on paper."

He paused, as if he was also surprised by what he had just blurted out, then remained silent, saying nothing more, letting the story stop there, without clearly naming what that emotion was. The entire courtroom was silent for a moment. Nha Khanh sat below, tears rolling down uncontrollably, not because of the pressure of the trial, but because of the sincere words that had just spoken from the man she had been secretly moved by for many months but had never dared to admit clearly to herself, and because she also realized that she did not have the courage to ask him whether that boundary had really disappeared or not.

When it was her turn, Nha Khanh stood up, her voice trembling but determined. "Your honor, I went through another arranged marriage, full of lies and betrayal, before coming to this place. Therefore, I understand better than anyone the difference between a fake relationship and a true love. What I have for Mr. Son and baby An is not acting. I have learned to love a family not by blood, but by sincerity and time spent together overcoming difficulties."

The judge nodded silently, her eyes softened a bit, carefully taking notes on the file in front of her. The hearing ended that morning with the court announcing it would continue to consider additional evidence before making a final verdict in a subsequent trial, but the general atmosphere was somewhat more positive for Bach Son's side.

Stepping out of the courtroom, Ms. Do Ngoc Lan approached, her eyes looked at Nha Khanh with complicated eyes for a long time before speaking, her voice was no longer as harsh as before. "What kind of person you are, I will see for myself in a while. But today, listening to what you say, I at least believe that you are not a bad person."

Nha Khanh bowed her head politely. "I understand your thoughts. I just want An to have the happiest, most fulfilling life possible, no matter who she's with."

On the way back to the farm, Bach Son drove in silence, occasionally glancing at Nha Khanh who was sitting next to him, her face still showing the emotion of the morning. The two didn't say much, but the atmosphere between them was filled with something warmer, more certain than ever — as if their confession in court, though initially intended only to convince the judge, had unintentionally become the most sincere confession they'd ever made to each other.

Arriving at the farm, Uncle Sau Lanh and Tue An were waiting at the gate. Uncle Sau eagerly asked questions from afar. "What's going on, how's the court going, are you okay?"

"It's okay, the court will wait until the next session to make the final decision, but overall it's favorable," Bach Son replied, his voice much lighter compared to the tension in the morning. Uncle Sau clapped his hands loudly, laughed happily, pulled the whole family into the kitchen, and announced that he would cook a sumptuous meal to celebrate.

That evening, after Tue An fell asleep, Bach Son sat on the porch as usual, looking up at the starry sky. Nha Khanh brought out two cups of tea, sat down next to him, was silent for a moment before speaking.

"What you said in court this morning," she asked softly, her voice a bit hesitant, "was it sincere, or was it just because you needed to convince the judge?"

Bach Son turned to look at her, his eyes still shining with unmistakable sincerity in the dark night. "Nha Khanh, I'm not a good speaker, and I'm not used to expressing my emotions. But what I said this morning, word by word, was sincere. I don't know exactly when I started having feelings for you, maybe from the afternoon you comforted An through her panic attack, maybe even earlier than that."

Nha Khanh's heart beat a beat faster, the corners of her eyes stinging. "Me too," she whispered, having to blink rapidly to stop the tears from falling. "I used to think I would never dare to trust or love anyone again after what happened. But here, with you and An, I have learned how to do that again."

The two sat together in silence, the gentle late moonlight spread over the farm yard, there was no longer the awkward distance of the early days, nor the clear boundaries of a pragmatic agreement, but only a sincere, simple but strong bond, quietly growing with each day the two of them overcome the storms together.

Uncle Sau Lanh, standing behind the kitchen door, observed the two people sitting together under the moonlight, smiled slightly with satisfaction and then quietly retreated inside, not wanting to disturb that rare private moment. He remembered the day he first saw the strange girl fainting in front of his house, never thinking that one day he would witness such a beautiful story blooming in the middle of this desolate hill, where it seemed only loneliness and silence had reigned for so many years. He thought to himself, perhaps it is the incomplete lives, when they accidentally meet each other at the right time, that know how to heal each other most completely, more than anything that was pre-arranged from the beginning.