Chapter 4 — Two Teeth Under the Hoe Tree

7 Trieu Quoc Cuong, as if his soul had been drained, sat on the floor, his back leaning against the wall and sliding down. He looked at me, his eyes filled with pleading. I wish I could look at you once. It's okay to even say one word to him. But I don't. I just bowed my head and used my sleeve to wipe the red string on my wrist. The red string was broken, I just tied a knot. This is the only souvenir my father left me - I can't let it get dirty. "Nhi Nha..." The director squatted in front of me, that steely man now had a soft voice as if afraid, making me panic. "My dad... is a hero." I nodded. "I know." My dad has always been a hero. It's just... you don't know. "Where is he?" Trieu Quoc Cuong suddenly rushed forward and grabbed the director's shoulder. "Where is Brother Ho? Where is he?!" "I have to pick him up! I have to kowtow and apologize to him! I owe him my life!" The director was silent. He avoided Trieu Quoc Cuong's eyes and looked out the window at the darkness. His throat rolled up and down a few times, then slowly opened his mouth: "To get that box out, he deliberately kicked the drug traffickers astray." "When he sewed the lottery ticket onto my collar... he knew he wouldn't be able to come back again." I suddenly remembered that day. Dad squatted under the tree, his mouth full of alcohol. But his eyes — red. Dad said he was going to buy gourd candy. When he turned to leave, his back was strangely determined. It turns out... that was the final goodbye. It turns out, my father used his life... in exchange for a way to live for me, and in exchange for one day the truth will be revealed. "Where is the body?" Mr. Trieu stood up with a cane, his body trembling, tears rolling down his cheeks. "If you're alive, you have to see people, if you die, you have to see the body... We have to take it back to bury it in the martyrs' cemetery..." The director's tears finally flowed out. He bowed his head, his voice hoarse and unrecognizable: "The drug traffickers, to vent their anger..." "... threw Tran Ho into a meat grinder." BOOM! A bolt of lightning tore through the sky outside the window. Trieu Quoc Cuong and old man Trieu were petrified on the spot. Even their breathing seemed to be stopped. "Meat grinder." Those three words were like three sharp knives, sticking straight into the top of their heads. "Is... not a single intact body left?" — Trieu Quoc Cuong's voice trembled. The director closed his eyes, nodding in pain. "The drug traffickers said... they mixed his body with mud and poured it into the sewers in the west of the city." "They said... they fed it to stray dogs and rats." "Ah——!!!" Trieu Quoc Cuong let out an extremely plaintive scream. He went crazy and rushed out the door. "Tiger brother! Tiger brother——!" Mr. Trieu also tried to get up and rush out, but was held back by the guards. "I have to go! I have to go find it! Even if it's just a piece of bone! I have to bring it back!" The old man cried like a child, and the stick was thrown to the ground. The entire Trieu family rushed towards the western citadel. I also ran after them. I don't believe my father is dead. I don't believe he turned into mud. I have to find him. Even if it's just a small piece. 8 Sewer in the west of the city. This is where the wastewater of the whole area gathers. The stench makes people unable to open their eyes. The rain was pouring down. Each drop of rain hit his face with pain. Trieu Quoc Cuong jumped into it. The mud was waist deep, immediately submerging half of his body. He doesn't care. As if crazy, he used both hands to frantically dig through the thick mud. "Brother Tiger! Where are you?!" "Answer me, Brother Tiger——!" He groped in the dark water, scooped up handfuls of mud, strained his eyes to see - no, threw it away again. Grab another handful — still not there. His hands were torn to shreds by broken glass and steel wire in the water. As soon as the blood flowed out, it was swallowed by the dark water. I also jumped down. The mud was cold to the bone, like countless cold hands

hold my leg. When I was young, the water almost covered my neck. I held my breath, bowed my head and crawled into the dark water. I'm not afraid of getting dirty. Dad once tried to find a one-dollar bill and I dropped it and went into the trash. Dad never called me dirty, so I didn't see him as dirty at all. "Nhi Nha! Come up now! It's very dangerous!" The chief stood on the shore and shouted, intending to send someone down to pull me up. I shook their hands away. "Don't touch me! I have to find my father!" Trieu Quoc Cuong searched all night long. That night, none of us said a word. Only the sound of rain falling, and Trieu Quoc Cuong's choked sobs echoed in the darkness. It's morning. The rain also stopped falling. The director dispatched a large capacity pump for three consecutive days. Finally drained the thick black water in that stinking canal. Exposing the canal bed to all the black, stinking mud. But still nothing was found. No bones. No piece of clothing. Nothing. Everything... has long since melted into the mud. Trieu Quoc Cuong knelt down in the middle of the canal, like a mud statue. His whole body was covered in black mud, only his eyes were horribly empty. "There is no more... there is nothing left..." "Even gathering a handful of ashes for him... I can't do it..." At that moment - A stray dog ran past from the other side of the bank. In its mouth, it held a piece of black, tattered cloth. It doesn't seem to have the smell of meat, it's about to spit it out. I have good eyes. I saw that on that piece of cloth, there was a glint of metal reflecting light. It's the police number! I didn't know where I got the strength from, pulled my feet out of the mud, crawled with my hands and feet to the shore. "Give it back to me! That belongs to my father!" I hugged the piece of cloth and rolled down into the mud. It was a piece of shoulder strap that had been soaked black with blood and torn in half. On the back of it, there are two crooked words engraved with something sharp: "Nhi Nha." The handwriting is very bad, as if it was hastily engraved in the last moments of life. Maybe... Right before he died, he still held this shoulder strap tightly in his hand, still calling my name in his heart. "Dad..." I hugged that shoulder strap tightly to my chest. Finally… I burst into tears. This is the last thing my father left me. It is also the only trace left of him in this world. Trieu Quoc Cuong staggered and crawled towards me. Seeing the shoulder strap in my hand, his whole body felt like his entire body had been pulled out. "This... this is..." Ten years ago. The day Tran Ho was dismissed from the police. It was his hand - the one who tore that shoulder strap from Tran Ho's shoulder. And scolded him: "You are not worthy of being a police officer." It turns out... For the past ten years, Tran Ho has always carried that shoulder piece with him. Place it close to the left chest. That is his belief. It is also his life. Mr. Trieu looked at that bloody shoulder piece, tears falling like rain. "Tiger... I'm sorry for you..." The media flocked in like bees in a hive. Flash lights flashed continuously. The news about Tran Ho was posted on the front page, and the whole city was shocked. The man who was once despised as a "depraved gambler"... Now becomes a lonely hero respected by all the people.9At the cemetery. A grave without any body can be built — a wind grave. On the stele is a photo of Tran Ho smiling kindly, revealing his white teeth. That was a photo taken when he had just become a police officer. In the grave, there was only a rusted iron box... And half of the shoulder piece stained with blood. Police sirens simultaneously sounded throughout the city. Tens of thousands of people voluntarily came to say goodbye. White flowers covered the mountain, like a late white snowfall. Trieu Quoc Cuong wore a straight police uniform, but after just one night, his hair turned white. "Brother Tiger, go in peace." "In the next life, in return, I will be your spy, so I can protect you." Lam Uyen was sentenced to death.

image. On the day of her execution, she asked to see Trieu Quoc Cuong one last time. Trieu Quoc Cuong refused. Just ask someone to give her one sentence: "Go to hell and repent with Man Man and Brother Ho." It is said that when Lam Uyen died, his eyes were still wide open - full of fear. After the funeral. Trieu Quoc Cuong crept closer to me, holding an expensive imported doll in his hand. "Niem Niem, follow your grandfather and uncle home." "We will give you the best." "We will change your name to Trieu Niem — you are the eldest lady of the Trieu family." They wanted to make up for it. Wanting to use love to mend the damage caused over the past ten years. Wanting to use the name "Trieu Niem" to erase all the humiliation that "Tran Nhi Nha" had to endure. I looked at them. Looking at that beautiful doll...I shook my head. I took out a new red string from my pocket. I bought it at a roadside stall — five dimes a piece. I tied it on my wrist, tying it in a tight knot. "Dad said, the person who tied the red string was Nhi Nha." "Not Trieu Niem." I refused all compensation. I held my father's black and white photo... Turned around and returned to the old, dilapidated dormitory. That place has memories of me and my father. It smells like the mixed noodles my dad used to cook for me. Dad's drunken story-telling voice rang out in the dark nights. Trieu Quoc Cuong and the old man were startled and quickly ran to hold me. "Nhi Nha! You're still young, you need someone to take care of you!" I shook their hands away, my eyes calm. "I don't mind being dirty." Just that one sentence... made them freeze in place. I returned to the apartment with peeling walls in that dormitory. Every day, Trieu Quoc Cuong and the old man waited downstairs. Bring food, water, and new clothes. I stood behind the dusty window, quietly looking at them. Looking at Trieu Quoc Cuong sitting below smoking tobacco, one cigarette after another, his back was completely hunched over. Looking at the old man in the wheelchair, wiping away his tears, he silently looked up at the window. The old holly tree outside the door is blooming again. White petals fall everywhere — like snow falling in the middle of summer. I felt like I saw my father standing under the tree. Wearing an old faded coat, holding a string of bright red candies. He smiled at me and said: "Nhi Nha, dad is home." I smiled. Tears fell down my lips — sweetly. “Dad, I miss you so much too.” I gently touched the red string on my wrist. That rope - tied me. Also tied father. We will never leave each other. Run out of.