Chapter 8 — The Summer Contract of Western Beauty and Beasts

One week after Nha Khanh officially stayed at Doi Suong farm, her life began to gradually enter a new rhythm, although there were still many surprises. Every morning, she woke up while it was still foggy and followed uncle Sau Lanh to learn how to milk cows, feed chickens, and water the tea garden. Her once white hands were now starting to show a few small calluses, her skin was a little more tanned, but she did not complain, on the contrary, she felt a strange joy when completing each small task herself that she had never thought she would do before.

That afternoon, while the whole family was having dinner, Bach Son's phone rang. Looking at the strange number appearing on the screen, he frowned, hesitated a bit before picking up the phone.

"Hello," he said, his voice cautious.

"Mr. Son, right? I'm lawyer Thai Bao Long, legal representative for Ms. Do Ngoc Lan's family." The voice on the other end of the line sounded solemn, full of professionalism but could not hide its toughness. "I'm calling to inform that Ms. Ngoc Lan's family has officially filed a petition with the court, requesting to review the right to raise Nhieu Tue An."

Bach Son tightened his grip on the phone, his expression immediately changed. "What is the basis of the lawsuit? I am the child's biological father, I have not violated anything in raising the child."

"Ms. Ngoc Lan's family believes that, with Tue An's special condition, living isolated on a remote farm, lacking the mother's care, along with him having to shoulder all the farm work and child care alone, does not ensure the best development environment for the child," lawyer Thai Bao Long said, his voice monotonous as if reading a prepared document. "A preliminary hearing will be scheduled in the near future, you will receive an official summons by mail."

The call ended, Bach Son sat silently, his face dark. Nha Khanh and uncle Sau Lanh, sitting opposite him, saw his unusual expression and worriedly asked him.

"What's wrong, Mr. Son?" Nha Khanh asked, her voice full of concern.

Bach Son sighed, put the phone down on the table, his hands clenched tightly, unable to hide his tension. "An's maternal family has just officially filed a lawsuit, demanding custody of her."

Uncle Sau Lanh was stunned, the chopsticks in his hand fell onto the table. "How can this be? You raised An properly, taking care of every little thing. Who says you're not capable?"

"They think that I live alone, in a remote place, with no one to help, not ensuring a good environment for An," Bach Son said, his voice bitter. "Mrs. Ngoc Lan has hinted at this many times since the day Van Anh died, but I didn't expect they would actually do it to the point of taking it to court."

Nha Khanh listened silently, a deep sympathy arose in her heart. She partly understands the feeling of being doubted and judged by family members, even though her circumstances and Bach Son's are completely different. Looking at the worried, helpless face of the man who had always appeared strong and steadfast in front of her all these days, she suddenly felt something urging her to do something to help.

"Do they have any concrete evidence, or are they just based on subjective speculation?" she asked, her voice serious.

"It's probably just speculation, but what their lawyer said sounded very professional," Bach Son replied, rubbing his temples. "I don't know the law, and I never thought that one day I would have to go to court to fight for my biological daughter."

"You need to hire your own lawyer as soon as possible," Nha Khanh said, her voice surprisingly decisive. "And you need to prepare enough evidence to show how good An's living environment is here - periodic health check-up books, teacher comments if An goes to school, pictures, videos recording An's progress. Those things will carry much more weight than empty words."

Bach Son looked at her, a bit surprised by her understanding and calm analysis, completely different from the image of a weak lady he assumed when he first met. "Do you... understand these legal things?"

"I'm not very familiar with family law, but I've studied a few economic law courses, and..." Nha Khanh smiled sadly, "I'm also facing an equally complicated set of legal documents, so I somewhat understand that sometimes what decides victory or defeat is not who is right or wrong, but who has the evidence and is more prepared."

Those words made Bach Son silent, his eyes stayed on her face longer than usual. He realized that behind her fragile appearance, perhaps Nha Khanh was carrying a more complicated and painful story than she had ever revealed.

In the afternoon, after calming down, Bach Son called a few old relationships from his time working in the city, and finally found the contact number of lawyer Vuong Dinh Khai, who had experience handling a number of cases related to child custody. The first phone conversation was quite long. Lawyer Khai promised to arrange time to go to the farm to conduct a field survey and collect documents next week.

Late that night, when Tue An was fast asleep, Bach Son sat alone on the porch, looking up at the starry sky of the plateau. Nha Khanh brought out two cups of hot tea, quietly sat down next to him, placing one cup in front of him.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low, picking up the cup of tea and taking a sip. "Having you here these past few days, I feel much less lonely in this matter."

Nha Khanh smiled slightly, looking out at the dark hills in the distance. "You and An gave me a place to stay when I was at my lowest. If I can help in any way, I would like to contribute a small part."

The two sat quietly together for a long time, no one said anything, only the chirping sounds of insects and the twinkling stars in the highland sky witnessed a fragile but sincere bond that was gradually forming between two people who were originally strangers, now sharing the same big worry ahead.

At the same time, in a spacious house in Saigon, Mrs. Do Ngoc Lan sat in the living room, flipping through old photos of her daughter - Do Van Anh - taken with Tue An when she was still an infant. Three years since her daughter's death, that pain has never subsided in her heart, and every time she thinks of her only grandchild living hundreds of kilometers away, in a place she considers remote and deprived, her heart aches.

"Grandpa, did I do that right?" she asked her husband, Mr. Do Quang Vinh, who was sitting next to him reading the newspaper. "Son also loves An very much. Let's sue him in court. What if he's sad?"

"Do you think I don't love Son?" Mr. Quang Vinh replied, his voice thoughtful. "But look, how old An is now and still hasn't been able to go to school properly, living alone on the hill, Son alone manages to work on the farm and take care of the child. I'm worried that he's exhausted and neglects her without realizing it. I'm old, I only have this grandchild left, if I don't take care of him, who will?"

Ms. Ngoc Lan sighed, put the photo on the table, her eyes distant. "I'm just afraid that I'll overdo it and end up losing both my feelings for my son-in-law and my grandchild. An's child is now used to life there. Suddenly forcing him to change his environment will make his condition even worse."

"That's why I sued to get an objective assessment, not to arbitrarily take him back," Mr. Quang Vinh said. "If the court finds that Son really takes good care of him, I don't have to force him. But if not, I can't let my grandchild live without the love and professional care he needs."

The conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Do Quang Vinh shows that behind the seemingly cold and cruel lawsuit, there is not necessarily any malicious intent to take the child away from his biological father, but more of it comes from the real worries of the grandparents who have lost their daughter, and now only know how to pour all their remaining love into their only grandchild. That's what makes this lawsuit much more complicated than a normal dispute — no one is truly a bad person, there are only people who are loving in their own way, and the court will have to carefully consider what is truly best for a special child like Tue An.

Back at Doi Suong farm, it was late at night. Nha Khanh went back to her room but still couldn't sleep. She lay looking at the ceiling, thinking endlessly about the conversation in the afternoon, about Bach Son's worried expression when mentioning the lawsuit. She suddenly realized that, since the day she arrived here, for the first time she felt like she was not just hiding, not just trying to survive the day, but really wanted to do something meaningful, wanted to help the people who had extended their arms to support her in her most difficult times. That feeling was strange but strangely warm, making her, although not yet clear, begin to vaguely think of a possibility that she had never dared to imagine before.

She got up, walked out to the small balcony in front of the room, looking down at the dim moonlight yard. In the distance, the sound of cows in the barn occasionally stirring made a deep sound, and the sound of the wind blowing through the tea trees created dark blue ripples under the starlight. Nha Khanh took a deep breath, letting the cold plateau seep into her lungs, dispelling some of the confusion in her heart. She thought about her father, wondering how he was doing now, whether Trinh Khac Sang caused any trouble. She thought of Viet Cuong, of the betrayal that still hurts every time she remembers it. But strangely, that thought no longer made her depressed like the first days, but was gradually replaced by a new determination, silently growing every day she stayed in this place.