Chapter 17 — Wind and Snow Falling, Ancient People Return

Let Go

The news about the meeting between Bach Du and his mother, although not told in detail, somehow reached Diep Khanh's ears through Minh Lam's unintentional story when he stopped by the flower shop to ask about the situation. "Uncle Van came to talk to Bach Du this morning. He seemed very tense. I vaguely heard that he did not agree with the two of them being together."

That statement, even though it was just a small detail, was like a drop of water for Diep Khanh, who was already exhausted both physically and mentally after many days of continuously facing pressure from all sides. She thanked Minh Lam and saw him off, then sat down on the chair behind the counter, feeling like all her strength had been completely exhausted.

That evening, when Lam Tuyen stopped by to visit after her shift, she immediately noticed an unusual change in her friend's attitude. Diep Khanh sat quietly at the counter, his lifeless eyes looking out at the space in front of him, no longer showing the strong determination like the previous days.

"What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" Lam Tuyen asked, her voice worried, placing the bag of snacks she had just bought on the way on the table, forgetting to open it and invite her friend as usual.

"I'm tired, Tuyen." Diep Khanh said, her voice was weak, carrying a deep exhaustion. "I'm tired of having to fight this debt, tired of having to face Tram, tired of having to hope and then be disappointed with Mr. Du's story."

"Don't say that, everything is progressing, Viet Bang and Bach Du are looking for evidence, it just needs a little more time." Lam Tuyen tried to comfort her, but Diep Khanh just shook her head.

"His mother doesn't agree with me and him going back and forth. That's okay. Their family now has status and a career, and I'm saddled with a ton of debt and at risk of losing my flower shop." Diep Khanh smiled sadly, tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I don't want him to have any more trouble because of me. I don't want him to have to choose between his family and me a second time."

"What are you talking about, are you already planning to retreat?" Lam Tuyen held her friend's hand tightly, her voice was somewhat grumpy because of worry. "You can't give up now. The fourteen-day deadline is almost over. We can't let everyone's efforts be in vain."

"I won't give up on finding evidence, it still has to be done to save the flower shop." Diep Khanh wiped her tears, her voice trying to regain some composure. "But the thing between me and him, maybe we should stop here. I don't want to repeat the mistake of five years ago, I don't want to get my hopes up and then get hurt again."

The next morning, when opening the shop as usual, Diep Khanh felt that her hands were much heavier, each familiar movement of pruning flower branches now became slow and lifeless. She looked at the newly imported flowers, wondering how much longer she would have the strength to continue taking care of this flower shop, if the debt was not resolved in time, and if she herself no longer had enough strength to believe in a bright future ahead.

A regular customer stopped by to place flowers for her grandmother's birthday celebration. The elderly woman happily told about her plans for the party, about how children and grandchildren from all over would gather to celebrate. Diep Khanh smiled and listened, her hands still quickly picking each branch of bright yellow chrysanthemums, but in her heart, a silent sadness rose when thinking about how this same flower shop, which had witnessed so many happy moments of reunion for other families, was facing the risk of falling apart just because of the greed and hatred of one person.

But not every guest who visits brings such warmth. At noon, a young bride who had ordered a whole package of flowers for next month's engagement called, her voice hesitant as if trying to choose words to avoid feeling guilty. "Mrs. Khanh, I heard people say that our shop is about to be repossessed. My parents are very worried. They are afraid that if something happens, the wedding will be short of flowers and the entire party will be lost. I... I would like to cancel the order, I hope you will understand." Diep Khanh tried to keep a gentle voice to reassure the customer, but when she hung up, she stood silently at the counter for a long time, rubbing her thumb over and over on the phone case. This was the second cancellation order this week due to rumors, and she understood that if the story continued to spread that way, even if the lawsuit was won, the flower shop would not necessarily have enough regular customers to survive.

In the following days, Diep Khanh began to withdraw into herself, limiting contact with Bach Du, only exchanging necessary information related to collecting evidence through brief messages, avoiding any unnecessary direct meetings. She devoted all her attention to her work at the flower shop, trying to maintain normal business operations while waiting for the results from the lawyer, but every night when she closed the shop, she sat in front of the cashier counter for a while longer, not bothering to turn on the lights, nor bothering to get up.

Some nights, she sat alone and recalculated the numbers, considering the worst possibility: if she couldn't prove that the contract was invalid before the deadline, she would probably have to accept selling part of her assets, even the house and flower shop, to pay part of the debt and avoid being publicly auctioned, saving the last bit of dignity for her mother's legacy.

She took a blank piece of paper and began listing out possible options: borrow more from acquaintances, find an investor willing to contribute capital to save the situation, or in the worst case, sell half of the land area behind, keeping the front part to maintain business operations on a smaller scale. Each plan, when written down, carries with it a unique feeling of loss, making the more she writes, the more her heart sinks, her hand holding the pen trembles so much that the handwriting becomes scribbled and difficult to read.

That thought made her so heartbroken that she couldn't sleep, but she also couldn't see any other way out more clearly in her current situation. She opened her mother's flower recipe book, flipped through the pages, trying to find some comfort from the familiar handwriting, but this time, even those words were not enough to soothe the despair that surrounded her soul.

Bach Du, meanwhile, also clearly felt the change in Diep Khanh's attitude. The messages he sent often only received brief responses, lacking the openness he had felt during recent meetings. He tried to make more contact, but the more he tried, the more he felt her gradually withdrawing from him, rebuilding the defensive walls he thought had gradually been torn down.

"She's avoiding me." Bach Du told Minh Lam one late afternoon working at the project office, his voice full of worry. "I don't know what's going on. These past few days she's only texted curtly and doesn't want to meet in person anymore."

"Maybe due to the pressure from too much debt, she no longer has the mind to think about love anymore." Minh Lam analyzed. "Or maybe, she heard about your mother's objections, so she felt sorry for herself and withdrew first, not wanting to make things difficult for you."

Hearing that, Bach Du was stunned, realizing that possibility was entirely possible. He sighed, rubbing his temples, which were tense from thinking too much. "If that's true, then this is really a mess. The past has not been resolved, the present problems are piling up."

"So what are you going to do?" Minh Lam asked.

"I will continue to do what I need to do to help her overcome her debt first, that is the top priority right now." Bach Du said, his voice steady. "As for the relationship between the two of us, after everything stabilizes, I will find a way to talk frankly with her, whether she wants to listen or not."

Even though she said that, Bach Du still felt her chest feel heavy every time she turned on the phone and then turned it off. She didn't know what to type so as not to put more pressure on her. He is afraid that, if this situation lasts, the gap between him and Diep Khanh will grow larger and larger, to the point where it can no longer be mended, just like what happened five years ago, when a prolonged silence was enough to completely destroy the relationship between them.

He looked out the office window, the street lights on Xuan Huong Street began to shine in the gradually falling evening mist. He told himself, this time, he wouldn't let things happen the same way again.

That evening, despite not receiving a positive response from the previous messages, Bach Du still decided to send Diep Khanh a short message, not asking for a response, just a simple, sincere message: "I know you're tired, and I also know you need time alone. I won't bother you if you don't want to talk yet, but I'm still here, every day, until you need me." He sent it, not expecting an immediate response, just hoping that those words would somehow touch her closed heart.

Diep Khanh received that message while sitting alone in the room, the nightlight casting her long shadow on the wall. She read it over and over again, her fingers slid across the screen but didn't type any response, she just quietly put her phone in a drawer, letting the complicated emotions continue to tug at her heart. She wasn't ready to open her heart right now, but his undemanding patience, even if it wasn't reciprocated in words, had silently planted a small seed of hope in her heart, different from the feeling of complete despair of the previous days.

No matter how much Diep Khanh wants to keep her distance, he will not give up, will continue to stay by her side, silently supporting her until all difficulties are resolved, and until she is ready to open up again, even though that may take more time and patience than he expected.