Chapter 9 — The Summer Contract of Western Beauty and Beasts

Lawyer Vuong Dinh Khai arrived at Doi Suong farm on a weekend morning, carrying a briefcase full of documents. After conducting a field survey, chatting with Bach Son, and observing how he took care of Tue An, he sat down at the table, his face pensive.

"Mr. Son, I'll say it frankly, what I see here, you take care of your children very well, the living environment is fine, there's nothing worrying like the other side accused," lawyer Khai said, his voice straightforward. "But the problem is, the court when considering child custody, especially for a child with special needs like An, will often prioritize a family environment with both parents, or at least a stable long-term support person. He lives alone, shouldering everything on his own. Even with Uncle Sau helping him, the opposing lawyer can still argue that he does not have enough time, not enough emotional support necessary for an autistic child."

Bach Son frowned and clenched his hands. "So what should I do? Do I have to pretend to have someone by my side to get past the court?"

Lawyer Khai was silent for a moment, then looked straight into his eyes. "I don't advise you to do anything false and violate the law. But if you really have a partner, a legal marriage, and a proper marriage registration, even if it's just starting out, that will help your case be much stronger in court. That's the objective legal truth, I'm just analyzing the situation for you to see clearly."

Those words made the atmosphere in the room slacken. Nha Khanh, sitting at the corner of the table taking down what lawyer Khai said at Bach Son's request, stopped, her heart beat faster. She glanced at Bach Son and saw that he was also looking at her, his eyes complex and unpredictable.

After lawyer Khai left, promising to return next week to prepare more detailed documents, Bach Son and Nha Khanh sat in the living room, the atmosphere was oppressively silent.

"You heard everything lawyer Khai said, right?" Bach Son spoke first, his voice somewhat hesitant, rarely seen in him.

Nha Khanh nodded, not daring to look him straight in the eye. "Yes, I heard."

There was a long silence. Bach Son took a deep breath, as if trying to muster up the courage to say what he was thinking. "Nha Khanh, I know this proposal sounds a bit sudden, even ridiculous. But I want to ask you directly - are you willing to marry me? A marriage on paper, completely for the benefit of both, with no emotional ties."

Nha Khanh raised her head and looked at him in shock.

"I know you need a new identity, a legal protection to avoid those who are looking for you," Bach Son continued, his voice serious. "As my wife, legally, with household registration, and proper papers in a remote place like this, it will be more difficult for anyone to trace your whereabouts. In return, I need a nominal wife to prove to the court that I am qualified and have a full home to raise An. This will be a fair agreement, mutually beneficial for both, nothing more, nothing less."

Nha Khanh was silent, her mind reeling with a series of thoughts. She thought about the broken marriage with Viet Cuong, about the bitter betrayal that was still deep in her heart. Entering another marriage, even if it's just on paper, makes her hesitate. But on the other hand, she also clearly understood her situation - no safe identification documents to use, no permanent refuge, always living in fear of being found out by Trinh Khac Sang at any time.

"Aren't you afraid that I will bring trouble and affect you and An?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"I have thought carefully," Bach Son replied, his eyes determined. "You've been here for more than a week. I clearly see that you're not a bad person, nor the type of person who takes advantage of other people's situations. Furthermore, you treat An with rare sincerity, which to me is more important than any risks you may take."

Nha Khanh bowed her head, her hands tightening her shirt. She thought of little Tue An, of her clear eyes every time she looked at her, of the feeling of being needed and trusted for the first time since that fateful night of running away. Perhaps, this is her opportunity to not only escape, but also truly rebuild something meaningful for herself.

"Okay," she said, raising her head, her eyes suddenly determined. "I agree. But I also have my conditions."

Bach Son slightly raised his eyebrows and waited.

"This must be a clear agreement, with specific documents, clearly defining the rights and responsibilities of each person, and specific deadlines if possible," Nha Khanh said, her voice gradually becoming firm, taking on the appearance of a lady who had been well-trained in business. "I don't want any misunderstandings or disputes to arise in the future. And most importantly, you must promise, this will not affect An in a negative way. If there is any sign that my presence causes harm to her, I will leave immediately, without discussion."

Bach Son looked at her, a great deal of respect arose in his heart for the way she handled the situation - calmly, clearly, putting Tue An's interests first even though she had only known her for less than two weeks. "Okay, I agree to all your conditions. We will draw up a clear agreement, signed by both of us."

The two shook hands, a short but solemn handshake, marking the beginning of a strange marriage - not stemming from love, but from pragmatic calculation on both sides, with the hope that it would bring practical benefits to both people who were facing their own turbulence in life at the same time.

That evening, after announcing the decision to Uncle Sau Lanh, the old man was both happy and a little surprised, constantly rubbing his hands and laughing. "So Doi Suong farm is about to have another owner. Let me take care of the marriage registration in the commune. I know the judicial officers there, so let me do it quickly."

Nha Khanh smiled at Uncle Sau's enthusiasm, but in her heart there was still a vague concern that she could not name. She looked at Bach Son and saw that he was also looking at her. They both quickly turned away when their eyes met, as if they were both not ready to face what the upcoming marriage would bring, even though on paper, it was simply a mutually beneficial agreement.

That night, after everyone had returned to their rooms, Nha Khanh sat down at the small wooden table in her room, took out a blank piece of paper, and began to sketch out the terms for the agreement that she had mentioned that afternoon. She wrote down each point, as clearly as the careful work habits she had been honed since childhood in the family business environment: the marriage term would be reviewed after the child custody case ended, each person kept their own room, did not interfere in each other's private lives, only acted as husband and wife in front of outsiders and at court meetings when necessary, and most importantly, a clause of protection for Tue An — that at any time her presence caused an impact. If it has a negative impact on the child's psychology, the agreement will immediately terminate without any further conditions.

Writing here, she stopped writing, looked out the dark window outside, thinking endlessly about the strange journey that had brought her to this decision. Just less than two weeks ago, she was a young lady about to enter her dream wedding, trusting absolutely in a man who turned out to only see her as a tool for profit. Now, she is about to enter another marriage, this time completely conscious, completely proactive, based on fairness and mutual respect instead of sweet and false words. There was a certain irony in this situation, but also a sense of control over her own destiny that she had never felt before.

The next morning, she showed the draft agreement to Bach Son. He read each line carefully, occasionally nodding in agreement, until stopping at the last clause related to Tue An, his eyes filled with emotion that he couldn't hide.

"You're much more thoughtful than I thought," he said, his voice low. "Thank you, for putting An first like that."

"That's the right thing to do," Nha Khanh replied, trying to keep her voice calm even though her heart felt a little warm at his sincere thanks. "She has nothing to do with our adult affairs, and she shouldn't be the one who suffers because of any decisions we make."

Bach Son nodded, carefully signed the agreement, then gave the pen to Nha Khanh. She held the pen, her hands trembling slightly, but this time it was not because of fear like the previous times she signed papers under Viet Cuong's urging, but out of excitement mixed with hope for a new beginning, although strange, at least of her own choosing.

She put the pen down on the page and slowly signed each line, clearly feeling the difference between this signing and the fateful signing at the notary office before. That time, she signed in blind trust, without reading carefully, without consideration, and then fell into a cruel trap. This time, every word was drafted by her own hand, every clause was carefully considered, protecting the legitimate rights of both herself and an innocent child. Putting down her pen, she looked up at Bach Son, smiling slightly, a smile for the first time since the night of her escape that was filled with relief instead of forcing herself to hide fear.