Chapter 4 — Wind and Snow Falling, Ancient People Return

Awkward Distance

Duong Viet Bang's law office is located on the second floor of an old house near the market, the wooden stairs creak with every step. When Diep Khanh walked in, her face was still shocked, causing Viet Bang to stand up from the desk with worried eyes.

"Why is your face so pale? Did something happen on the way here?"

"Nothing, just almost had an accident at the construction site." Diep Khanh sat down in the chair, trying to regain composure, not wanting to talk more about the recent encounter. There are things that she needs time to sort out in her heart before she can say them out loud to anyone, even her closest friend.

Viet Bang did not ask further questions and turned his attention to the contract documents Diep Khanh brought. He wore glasses and meticulously turned each page, occasionally stopping to underline a few lines with a pencil, frowning slightly.

"This provision is clearly problematic." He pointed to a passage in appendix two. "Normally, a regular goods supply contract will not include a real estate mortgage clause, unless this is essentially a form of loan contract disguised as a goods supply. This drafting method is very sophisticated, inserting the most serious clause in the middle of seemingly harmless clauses."

Diep Khanh clasped her hands in her lap. "So that means they calculated it from the beginning, right from the moment they gave me the contract to sign?"

"I can't say for sure, but the possibility is not small." Viet Bang took off his glasses and gently rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Let me review all the transaction records, compare the actual data, then we will have a basis to refute it. In the immediate future, don't rush to pay any amount at their request, and also don't sign any more documents unless I review them first."

The conversation lasted nearly an hour, Viet Bang carefully noted every detail Diep Khanh recounted, from the initial meeting with the woman introducing the company, to the vague calls from Van Hoa Cao Nguyen recently. When Diep Khanh left the office, it was already afternoon. The weak sunlight penetrated through the remaining thin layer of mist, casting a gentle pale yellow color on the ancient roofs.

She didn't go straight to the shop but turned to the small park next to the lake, wanting to have a little more time alone to sort out her chaotic thoughts. The encounter with Bach Du that morning still haunted her, not because of the accident, but because of the feeling of tightening in her chest when she saw him, a feeling that she thought she had learned to control a long time ago.

The small park was sparsely populated at this time, only a few old people were practicing yoga under the ancient pine trees, and a group of small children were playing near the grass. Diep Khanh chose a quiet corner, sat down, and let the cold wind blow through her hair, bringing with it the typical humidity of a rainy Da Lat afternoon. She looked at the swallows flying low over the lake, wondering if the sky itself was signaling an impending storm, not only in the weather, but also in her already chaotic life.

Diep Khanh sat down on a stone bench next to the lake, looking at the calm water reflecting the light gray sky. She remembered the first time she met Bach Du, also on a cold afternoon like this, when they were both students, coincidentally sheltering from the rain under the school library's awning. At that time, he gave her his jacket without saying a word, just smiled gently and turned away, leaving her standing there with her heart racing for the first time in her life because of a boy.

But those beautiful memories are now covered with a fog of hurt and resentment. She shook her head, trying to dispel the images that were rushing back, stood up and continued walking towards the flower shop, where Lam Tuyen was waiting for her with a series of questions about the meeting with the lawyer.

Meanwhile, at the project office temporarily located in a renovated old house on Xuan Huong street, Bach Du sat in front of his desk, his eyes glued to the planning drawing spread out in front of him but his mind could not focus on any details. The image of Diep Khanh standing in front of him this morning, her eyes avoiding, her voice cold and distant, kept repeating in his head endlessly.

Chu Minh Lam, his colleague and former classmate from college, walked into the office with two cups of hot coffee, placed one in front of Bach Du and sat down in the chair opposite.

"This morning I heard that you saved a girl who almost had an accident at the construction site, and the whole construction team was still talking." Minh Lam took a sip of coffee, his eyes observing his friend's unusually thoughtful expression. "But looking at your face right now, it seems like there's something bigger than just saving people."

Bach Du was silent for a long time, his fingers lightly tapping on the edge of the table, before finally speaking, his voice was somewhat hoarse. "It's Diep Khanh."

Minh Lam almost choked on the sip of coffee he was drinking, quickly placed the cup on the table, his eyes wide open. "What are you talking about? Diep Khanh, is that Diep Khanh in college, the person you..."

"Yes, that's her." Bach Du interrupted, not wanting his friend to finish his sentence. He stood up, walked to the window, looking out at the old street strewn with construction materials. "She lives here now, there's a flower shop in the alley nearby."

Minh Lam is the only person in the project team who knows clearly about the old love between Bach Du and Diep Khanh, because he is Bach Du's closest friend during his college years, the person who witnessed that entire love story blossom and then end suddenly and mysteriously.

"Did you talk to her? After so many years of meeting again, there must be something to say." Minh Lam asked, his voice careful, afraid of touching his friend's old wound.

"Just a few pleasantries. She doesn't seem to want to talk to you." Bach Du sighed, his voice lowered. "It's fair, after what happened, she has the right to hate you."

"Eh, wait, I don't understand." Minh Lam frowned. "What do you mean by that? Wasn't it because she broke up with you first?"

Bach Du was silent and did not answer immediately. He remembered the night before flying to France five years ago, the cold text message that appeared on his phone screen, each word cutting into his heart like a knife: "Just go, don't contact me again, I don't want to get in your way." He read and reread that message countless times on the long flight, trying to find a reason to believe that it was just an angry statement, but for the next five years, Diep Khanh never contacted her again, making him gradually accept that she really wanted to end everything.

"She texted me not to contact me again, right before I left for the airport." Bach Du said, his voice sounded like he was trying to suppress an emotion that had been buried for too long. "Since then, I have never dared to contact her again, because I thought that was what she wanted."

Minh Lam was silent, frowning in thought. There was something about this story that made the back of his neck feel an uncomfortable tickle, but right now he couldn't clearly determine what it was, just a vague hunch that things weren't as simple as they seemed. "Did you keep that message?"

"I changed my old phone, but I still remember every word clearly. It's haunted me for the past five years." Bach Du returned to his desk, sat down, picked up his drawing pen but his hand did not move, his eyes looked distantly into the space in front of him.

Minh Lam looked at his friend, a mixture of curiosity and worry arose in his heart. He didn't say anything more, just stood up quietly, patted Bach Du's shoulder and left the room, leaving his friend alone to face the memories that were rushing back nonstop.

That evening, when returning to the temporary rented apartment while working on the project, Bach Du stood in front of the window, looking down at Xuan Huong street, which was gradually sinking into darkness, the pale yellow streetlights reflected the thin layer of fog that was beginning to spread. He thought about Diep Khanh, about her avoiding eyes this morning, about her cold and distant voice as if she was trying to build an invisible wall between the two of them.

He wondered if he had made a mistake in believing a text message and not once trying to confirm it with her in person before leaving. But at that time, he was too young, too hurt, and too hasty before the short deadline of that fateful trip. Now, standing in the middle of the old street, facing the girl from the past who had a completely strange cold look, Bach Du felt that the distance between them was not only five years of time, but also a thick wall of misunderstandings that had never been cleared. He didn't know if he had the courage to break through that wall, but he knew one thing for sure: he couldn't pretend he'd never seen her again, couldn't continue living with the question that tormented her for the past five years without once looking for the real answer.

He turned off the desk lamp, but didn't go to sleep right away. He sat a while longer in the dark, looking at the streetlights shining through the curtains, trying to imagine once again Diep Khanh's face when he called her name in the middle of the construction site - not the face of someone who had long ago given up, but the face of someone who had just been touched by an untold wound. There was something in those eyes that did not match the story he had believed for the past five years, and Bach Du, although he could not yet put it into words, knew that he would not be able to rest assured until he found the answer.