Chapter 5 — You Waited For Me Two Lives

Ly Tan Bach sat next to me, picked up all the old stems from the vegetables, scooped out half a bowl of soup, let it cool and then gave it to me. When receiving the bowl, from the corner of my eye I saw Ta Tuy Ngoc's eyes resting on Ly Tan Bach's hand. Those hands were rough, with large knuckles, carefully removing fish bones for me. He suddenly put down his chopsticks. Ly Tan Bach didn't realize it at all, but added more fish and meat to my bowl.
“Eat more, you've become thinner lately.”
Ta Tuy Ngoc sat opposite, looking at that bowl of rice, without moving his chopsticks for a long time. Only now did he discover that during the past five years, he had never known what I liked to eat and what I didn't like to eat.
11
Mrs. Vuong bought two sesame cakes and died less than an hour later. When the government officials came to arrest people, Ly Tan Bach was kneading dough on the cutting board, his hands covered in white flour. The group of thugs simultaneously rushed forward and pushed him down into the kitchen. I stood next to the stone lion in front of the door, extremely confused. Ta Tuy Ngoc stood not far away, his eyes proud, leaning over to listen to the whispers of his close entourage. In that moment, a wild thought suddenly flashed in my heart. That sesame was bought from the Ta family's store. I angrily walked forward, raised my hand and slapped his left cheek. A crunching sound. Ta Tuy Ngoc tilted his head, stunned for a moment, seemingly unable to react. The guard took a half step back in horror and instinctively shouted:
"Do A Chau, you are bold! Dare to hit the old man!"
Ta Tuy Ngoc shook his head to stop, his eyes filled with disbelief.
“Because of him, you beat me?”
“He is my husband.”
I withdrew my hand, my palm numb.
“Of course I have to protect you.”
Ta Tuy Ngoc's eyebrows moved slightly, the corners of his mouth were cold:
"We've also been husband and wife for five years. He and you have only been together for two years!"
“Spouse?”
I burst out laughing.
"Master, if you listen to it again, don't you feel guilty? We don't have a marriage certificate, and we have a slave contract. I'm the slave you bought, not your wife. Right now I'm a free person, I don't have any relationship with you."
He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. Sunlight fell on his face, clearly illuminating the red handprint on his cheek. A long time later, Ta Tuy Ngoc let go of his fist, lowered his voice and said:
“He has killed people, he must die.”
Ly Tan Bach's head was pressed against the cold tile floor, he explained:
“Sir, every day I leave behind samples of ingredients.”
That's his habit. Every day when kneading the dough, mixing the filling and mixing sesame, at each step he took a little bit and put it in a rough ceramic bowl, covered it with oil paper, and wrote the date. He always said that people who prepare food must be responsible for others. Those rough ceramic bowls became solid evidence. Ngu Tuo checked and found that arsenic was mixed in the cake Mrs. Vuong ate, but the ingredients from the same batch that Ly Tan Bach kept were completely clean. Nha Mon continued to investigate and discovered that the person delivering the sesame had bad intentions and that he was the one doing the trick. The street vendor instinctively looked at Ta Tuy Ngoc, then insisted that he intentionally harmed her out of jealousy. The seller intentionally harmed people, was imprisoned for three years, and had to compensate Mrs. Vuong's family with ten taels of silver. Ta Tuy Ngoc's face was extremely unsightly. Ly Tan Bach squatted in front of the stove to light a fire, the firelight reflected his profile. He suddenly said:
"A Chau, I don't blame him. He has a bet His life, I have mine.”
I squatted next to him, placing my head on his shoulder. There were crackling sounds in the kitchen, sparks shot up and fell. I remember the appearance of Ta Tuy Ngoc holding his face and standing in front of the yamen's door, suddenly feeling ridiculous. There are things that are past, they are past.
12
My life and Ly Tan Bach's are increasingly prosperous. We rented a small shop to sell cakes. That day, Ta Tuy Ngoc brought three children to find me. The luffa vine crawled halfway across the fence, and the hens clucked and circled around his legs. Ta Giac stood in front. He was seven years old, a little taller than before, wearing a blue brocade shirt, pursing his lips and not speaking. Ta Canh, five years old, looked up at me, his eyes still round. It suddenly broke away from the nanny's hand and ran to hug my leg.
“Mom.”
I froze in place. Six-year-old Ta Yeu was led by his nanny and stood last. She wore a light yellow dress, two velvet flowers in her bun, and her eyes were red. It refused to call me, nor did it come closer. Both hands tightened the sleeves of the nanny's shirt, tears swirled around in the eye sockets, threatening to fall but did not fall. Ta Tuy Ngoc stood behind the children, his eyes fixed on my face.
“A Chau, the children miss you.”
I bowed my head, placing my palm on top of Ta Canh's head. The hair is soft, carrying the characteristic warmth of a child. Ta Canh raised his face and smiled at me, revealing a chipped front tooth. Ta Yeu suddenly burst into tears and threw away her nanny's hand:
“She is not my mother! My mother is the daughter of the Thoi family! She is just a lowly village woman!”
The yard in front of the gate was immediately quiet. Ta Tuy Ngoc's eyebrows lowered. He stepped up and slapped Ta Yeu straight in the face. A crisp sound rang out. Ta Yeu staggered half a step, covering his face in shock. He looked at me, then looked at his father. Tears were falling, but I still bit my lip, not daring to speak.