Chapter 10 — Thien Kim Half Wonton

If three years ago he knew how to say this, how good it would be. But in this life, the most useless thing is understanding things that come too late. Tham Hoai Xuyen knelt before his father's grave for three days. The third day, I arrived. He was unable to stand up. The driver tried to help but was pushed away. I placed a bowl of wontons in front of the grave.

“Dad, the shop is open.”

The wind blows through the cemetery, ash of banknotes spins in the air. Tham Hoai Xuyen's voice was so hoarse that it was unusual.

“Tri Duong, I will return the entire Tham family to you.”

I said:

“I can't pay.”

He bowed his head. I looked at my father's photo on the tombstone.

“I will take the Tham family's belongings back myself.”

“As for my brother, I am no more.”

Tham Hoai Xuyen's shoulder slumped. He did not continue to beg. Compared to crying, that look was more like admitting guilt. A month later, the sanatorium's case went to trial. Director Ton turned his testimony right in court, saying everything was ordered by the To family, he only received money to work. Trieu Man went to court to testify. She wore a shirt that was faded from washing a lot. Her voice was shaky at first, then became more and more steady.

"Miss Tham is not crazy. The first day she was brought in, she even shared her lunch with an old woman in the next room."

"That old woman couldn't speak, and no one took care of her. Ms. Tham said she just had a bad temper, not a bad person."

In the audience, someone bowed his head and wiped his eyes. I don't cry. I just thought, it turns out that in those three years, there were still people who remembered that I wasn't a monster. After the trial ended, Trieu Man walked in front of me.

“Miss Tham, sorry.”

I said:

“You said it.”

“It's still not enough.”

“Then live well in the future.”

She nodded. Outside the door, Chu Nghien Le was waiting. He gave me an annulment and compensation agreement.

"All the things the Chu family once gave to the To family have been recovered. The part belonging to the Tham family will be handled by lawyer Luong."

I take it.

“Thank you.”

His eyes lit up. I add:

“Mr. Chu.”

The light quickly turned off. He smiled bitterly.

“I understand.”

Luc Dinh Nghien drove me back to the shop. On the way, he asked:

“Is the name A Hoanh still used?”

I looked out the window.

“Use.”

“What about Tham Tri Duong?”

“Also used.”

He nodded. The car stopped in front of the shop. Uncle Liu was holding his hands on his hips and scolding a young man cutting in line.

"What are you looking at? Even if you have money, you have to stand in line! Our A Hoanh is now the boss, we don't serve people with bad habits!"

I got out of the car. Uncle Luu immediately changed his face.

"Are you back yet? There's soup in the pot for you."

I walked into the shop and smelled the familiar smell of onions. At this moment, I suddenly understood. I didn't fall from the Tham family onto the wonton counter. But from the hands of a group of blind people, returning to the human world that belongs to them. Half a year later, A Hoanh opened a second store. On the opening day, Tham Hoai Xuyen arrived. He didn't go in, just placed the flower basket on the corner of the street. Uncle Luu's eyes were very sharp, he immediately ran out to call.

“Hey, the Tham family is here, why don't you eat?”

Tham Hoai Xuyen looked inside the shop. I'm serving soup to guests. He shook his head.

“Don't bother her.”

Uncle Liu crossed his arms.

“Now you understand story.”

Tham Hoai Xuyen smiled bitterly.

“It's late.”

Rarely did Uncle Liu not scold him.

“Knowing it's late is better than not knowing.”

After Tham Hoai Xuyen left, Luc Dinh Nghien moved the flower basket inside. On the card there was only one sentence:

“I wish you a long life, peace and joy.”

I took a look and put it in the corner. Luc Dinh Nghien asked:

“Why don't you throw it away?”

I said:

“Flowers are not at fault.”

He laughed. For half a year now, he has always stayed at the shop to help. From cutting onions to the point of cutting my fingers, I can now wrap a pretty plate of wontons myself. On the outside, Uncle Luu always expressed his hatred, but behind his back he said he was more useful than the Tham family. I didn't fire him. Don't give him an answer either. Closing at night, Luc Dinh Nghien pushed the books in front of me.

“Sold more than three hundred bowls today.”

I turned it over.

“Green onions are a bit too much.”

He immediately wrote it down.

“Tomorrow less.”

I looked at his serious writing appearance and suddenly asked:

"Aren't you going to the Luc family?"

He said:

“The Luc family is not without you.”

"My place also has no shortage of dishwashers."

He put down his pen.

“So what's missing?”

I think.

“The lack of one person doesn't fool me.”

He was silent for a long time.

“I will learn.”

I said:

“This cannot be learned.”

He raised his head and looked at me.

“Then I will wait.”

The wind chimes outside the door rang softly. Uncle Luong walked in, holding a small box in his hand.

“Miss, the old man's pocket watch has been repaired and brought back.”

I opened the box. The crack is still there. The old craftsman did not replace the clock cover, only reinforced the crack, so that the clock hands could continue to move. Tick tock, tick tock. It's like the time has come three years too late, finally moving forward. Uncle Luong said:

“The watchmaker asked if he wanted the crack removed. I decided to keep it myself.”

I nodded.

“Retains very well.”

There are wounds that don't need to be hidden. If you cover it up, others will think it doesn't hurt. I hung the clock on the wall of the shop. Below is the newly written menu. Wontons filled with fresh meat, twelve yuan. Shrimp-filled wontons, eighteen yuan. Old matters must be paid, absolutely no debit. Uncle Luu looked for a long time and then applauded.

“This sentence is bold!”

Luc Dinh Nghien smiled and turned on the light. Warm yellow light shines down, illuminating the clock on the wall, and also illuminating the boiling pot of broth. I stood behind the counter, looking at the line of people lining up outside the door. Someone calls me A Hoanh. Some people call me boss Tham. I responded. This time, no one is allowed to choose the outcome for me. END.