Chapter 6 — The Summer Contract of Western Beauty and Beasts

Three days later, Nha Khanh's health had almost completely recovered, only her feet still had a few blisters that had not completely healed. She sat on the porch, looking out at the large yard where Bach Son and Uncle Sau Lanh were repairing a section of fence that had been blown away by the wind. Her heart was confused with a series of unanswered questions. She could not stay here forever without doing anything, nor could she return to Saigon when the danger from Trinh Khac Sang still loomed large.

For the past three days, she had silently considered every possibility. There was no money, no acquaintances in this land, and no contact with anyone in the city for fear of being traced. If she goes back, she will definitely fall into the hands of Trinh Khac Sang or be forced into a fake marriage that she no longer has any trust in. The only viable path right now, even if somewhat risky, is to find a way to stay here, in a remote place that no one can expect, at least until she finds a more satisfactory solution.

That afternoon, when Bach Son went into the house to get a drink of water, Nha Khanh boldly walked forward and took a deep breath to gain courage.

"Mr. Son, I have something to say," she started, trying to keep her voice steady even though she couldn't help but feel nervous.

Bach Son stopped, looked at her, waiting.

"I know this request is a bit sudden," Nha Khanh continued, "but I would like to ask to stay here for a while, helping on the farm. I don't need a salary, I just need a place to live. I... I'm having some trouble in the city, need to stay away for a while."

Bach Son frowned, put the glass of water on the table, his eyes became more serious. "What's the problem? Can you be more specific?"

Nha Khanh bowed her head, hesitantly. She is not ready to tell everything to a stranger, even though that person saved her life. "I... I'm sorry, I can't say it clearly right now. But I promise I won't bother you or cause any trouble for you and baby An. I just need a place to hide."

"Do you think I will agree so easily?" Bach Son said, his voice much colder. "I don't know who you are, where you come from, what you're hiding from. What if your matter entails danger, I still have my daughter here, I can't risk her safety just for the sake of temporary kindness."

Bach Son's straightforward, somewhat tough words made Nha Khanh suddenly pause. She realized that his perspective was completely reasonable - a man raising a child alone, of course had to put the child's safety first, could not easily trust an unknown stranger.

"I understand your concern," she said, her voice quiet but still trying to sound sincere. "I'm not a bad person, nor have I done anything illegal. I'm just... the victim of a scam involving my money and family. I need time to find a solution, and I have nowhere else to go."

Bach Son was silent, observing her for a long time. In her eyes, he saw real panic, not the kind of acting to take advantage of pity. But years of cautious living, years of shouldering all responsibilities on his own had created for him a strong layer of defense that was difficult to break down with just a few words.

"I'm sorry, but I can't agree," he said, his voice final. "You just rest for a few more days to get better, I'll ask Uncle Sau to drive you to town, you find a way to manage it yourself. I'm not a heartless person, but I also can't risk my daughter's safety."

Having finished speaking, he turned and walked out, leaving Nha Khanh standing still in the middle of the house, his heart heavy with disappointment. She understood, but still couldn't help but feel stuck. She looked down at her hands - the hands that once only knew how to hold a pen to sign contracts and hold a glass of wine at luxurious parties, were now trembling, not knowing where to hold on in a strange place.

That night, Nha Khanh couldn't eat much, just sat quietly in the room, looking out the dark window. She thought about her father, wondering if he was okay after finding out she left. She thought of Viet Cuong, of the bitter betrayal. She thought about the coming days, when she would have to leave this place without knowing where to go next.

Outside the living room, Bach Son sat alone at the wooden table, the oil lamp light shining on his pensive face. Uncle Sau Lanh walked over, sat down opposite, and sighed.

"You're so tough, Son," he said. "Look at that girl, she's so pitiful. She must have encountered something terrible to risk her life to walk dozens of kilometers in the rain like that. You chased someone away in such a difficult time, I don't feel able to bear it."

"I'm not chasing you, I just can't let strangers of unknown origin stay for a long time," Bach Son replied, his voice somewhat tired. "I know your personality, you have to take care of An first."

"I know, I know," Uncle Sau nodded, "but sometimes we should give people a chance. In the past, when you and baby An first moved here, no one knew who you were. It was thanks to the people here who took care of you and helped you to have the property we have today."

Uncle Sau's words made Bach Son pause. He remembers the difficult early days, when he carried his young daughter to this strange land, not knowing anyone, only the kindness of local people, including Uncle Sau, helped him rebuild from scratch. If no one had reached out to help then, perhaps he and Tue An would not have had the stable life they had now.

But then he shook his head, dispelling that thought. "That's different. You and I know relatives from near and far, but this girl is a complete stranger. I can't take any risks, Uncle Sau."

Uncle Sau did not say more, just sighed, stood up, patted Bach Son's shoulder and then retired to the room to rest. In the quiet night of the Mist Hill farm, both strangers - one trying to cling to the hope of survival, the other trying to protect his small home - were tossing and turning with their own thoughts, not knowing that just a small event happening tomorrow would completely change Bach Son's seemingly certain decision.

The next morning, as soon as it was dawn, Nha Khanh woke up early, sat huddled on the steps in front of the room, holding the suitcase that had been folded last night. She decided that, even though she didn't know where to go, she wouldn't stay and bother this family anymore. She doesn't want to be a burden to a man who already has so many things to worry about.

Uncle Sau Lanh, who woke up the earliest on the farm to prepare the cows, saw her sitting there, looking as quiet as a small shadow in the middle of a large yard still covered with fog.

"Where are you going so early?" he asked, his voice kind.

"Yes, I think I shouldn't bother Mr. Son and baby An any more," Nha Khanh replied, trying to smile even though she was full of worry. "I'm going to town to find a temporary job. I'll probably be fine."

Uncle Sau looked at her for a moment, his eyes full of compassion. "Do you have any money that you want to go out and fend for yourself? Looking at you, you can see that you have never struggled hard. It's not easy to find a job in town these days for strangers, without clear identification documents, and without acquaintances to introduce you."

Nha Khanh bowed her head, unable to answer. Uncle Sau is right. She almost didn't have much cash left, she didn't dare use the identification papers she brought with her for fear of being traced, and she also didn't have any skills that normal recruitment places would immediately accept.

"Okay, you just stay here and have breakfast, how can you go when you're hungry?" Uncle Sau patted her shoulder, his voice like an old father. "Let me talk to Son again, maybe he'll reconsider."

Nha Khanh intended to refuse, but hunger and exhaustion made her no longer strong enough to be stubborn. She quietly followed Uncle Sau into the kitchen, sat down at the rustic wooden table, watching him prepare a simple breakfast of cold rice fried with eggs and a plate of home garden vegetables. In that moment, in the middle of a smoky kitchen from a wood stove, in the midst of a stranger's unexpected kindness, Nha Khanh felt the tip of her nose sting. It's been a long time since her mother passed away early, and she has felt such simple, unselfish, and uncalculating care.

Bach Son walked out of the cowshed, saw Nha Khanh sitting in the kitchen with Uncle Sau, and paused for a moment in the doorway. He was about to speak up and repeat last night's decision, but looking at her small, emaciated figure carefully and somewhat clumsily scooping up each grain of rice, his words suddenly got stuck in his throat. He just quietly turned away and went out to the yard to continue his work, telling himself it wouldn't be too late to take her to town after breakfast.

After breakfast, Nha Khanh stood up to wash the dishes herself, something she had never done in her life, but tried to imitate Uncle Sau Chi's way, fumbling with her hands and feet, causing water to splash all over her shirt. Uncle Sau laughed, not a disparaging laugh but a gentle laugh, making the atmosphere in the kitchen less heavy.

"You leave it there, I'll do it for you, you're not used to it," Uncle Sau tried to grab the stack of cups, but Nha Khanh shook her head, determined.

"No, I can do it myself. I want to learn," she said, her voice surprisingly firm. "If you and Mr. Son let me stay a few more days, I will try to do my job, I won't sit around if I don't eat."

That sentence, which happened to ring out right when Bach Son returned to get more fence repair tools, caught his ear. He stopped at the kitchen door, looking at the city girl who was struggling, clumsily but determinedly with the simplest dishwashing task, something in his heart moved slightly, even though he wasn't ready to admit it right now.