The upscale restaurant in the heart of the city glowed softly under warm yellow lights, reflecting off the polished glass surfaces and creating a cozy bubble amid the busy rhythm of urban life. The faint clinking of knives and forks blended with the gentle notes of jazz playing from the ceiling speakers.
Bach Lan sat a little awkwardly across from Trach Dong, while he calmly enjoyed his steak as if it were an everyday routine.
She reached up to adjust her hair, eyes darting around the room, then cautiously asked,
"Do we… really have to eat in a place like this?"
"Aren't you hungry too?" – He replied casually, eyes fixed on his plate.
Her stomach gave an embarrassing growl, and she quickly covered her face, feeling flustered.
"But this place… it's a little too fancy."
He set down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with the napkin, and stared at her.
"Are you worried people will misunderstand?"
She froze, cheeks burning.
"I didn't mean that."
He shrugged, as if it didn't matter.
"Just eat. I don't sweat the small stuff."
Throughout the meal, Bach Lan tried to maintain polite manners, but she couldn't hide her embarrassment. Trach Dong seemed completely at ease with making others feel awkward. Every now and then, he would tease her lightly, sending her thoughts into a whirl so that she couldn't take a proper bite of her food.
The afternoon sunlight slowly faded, turning the sky golden for a while before surrendering to endless darkness. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying quiet sounds that felt like the passage of time itself.
Thanh Nhi stood by the window, her eyes betraying her worry. She murmured softly:
"I wonder where she went. She still hasn't come back at this hour."
At that moment, an orange BMW rolled to a stop at the entrance of the narrow alley. The sharply dressed young man in a suit turned to someone beside him and said:
"Miss, we've arrived."
Bach Lan looked up, her eyes unfocused, as if part of her thoughts were still wandering somewhere. She picked up her bag, about to open the door, when a deep voice rang out.
"You are living here?"
"Yes." – She replied.
His voice carried a hint of surprise, then a soft laugh followed.
"This place is… a bit unusual. Are you a forest girl?"
Bach Lan pressed her lips together, feeling a storm of emotions inside. She thought silently: Of course, this place can't compare to his luxurious mansion. Why the need for sarcasm?
He turned to the driver.
"Hoan, take her all the way inside. Don't let her get lost."
Hoan immediately stepped down and respectfully opened the door.
"Miss, please."
Bach Lan smiled politely.
"No need. I know the way. It's safe."
"Please, Miss, don't make it difficult for me." – He said.
Seeing Trach Dong remain seated in the car, his expression calm and detached, she reluctantly stepped down to follow Hoan.
On the way, Hoan chuckled softly.
"You are the second girl the master has invited to dine. Nothing like this has ever happened before."
Bach Lan slightly frowned.
"Is that so?"
"The master has always been very reserved. He hardly pays attention to anyone. You are… very special."
She remained silent, a faint smile crossing her face. Inside, nameless thoughts stirred. Special?
Was it just a momentary amusement, or something more?
When they arrived, she bowed politely.
"Thank you. I'll go in now."
"Have a peaceful evening, Miss." – Hoan replied.
The moment she stepped through the door, Thanh Nhi folded her arms and looked Bach Lan up and down.
"Coming home this late? Where have you been?"
Bach Lan pouted playfully.
"Sister, I'm grown up now. It's fine. Today the boss just invited me to dinner."
"Really?" – Thanh Nhi spun her around.
"Really!"
Seeing that, Thanh Nhi let out a sigh.
"Next time you're late, at least give me a call."
"Yes, ma'am!" – Bach Lan raised her hand in a mock salute, making Thanh Nhi laugh.
Soaking in the warm bath, Bach Lan's mind replayed Hoan's words.
"You are very special."
Special? What did that even mean for someone like Trach Dong?
She gently touched her cheek, feeling her heart skip a beat. Then she shook her head, trying to calm herself. No. Stop thinking nonsense.
***
That night, she dreamed again.
The scene was hazy, bathed in a soft, dreamlike pink. A gentle breeze drifted through, carrying the faint scent of flowers, like memories from a distant past.
A young scholar appeared within the white mist, his long white robe flowing, holding a scroll in his hands, his eyes deep and full of unspoken thoughts.
"Illusion, truth, I do not know,
A single word 'love' within me grows.
A fragment of affection that won't part,
Grateful to a kindred soul, etched in my heart."
His voice was clear and gentle, his movements soft. The ephemeral scholar recited the poem, wrapping Bach Lan's mind like smoke weaving through her memories. She tried to open her eyes to see his face clearly, but it remained blurred, undefined. Strangely, a familiar, indescribable warmth rose in her chest.
He stepped closer, hesitation in his movement:
"Little Bach... I am sorry for what I have done. Now I know you are not human... but perhaps that no longer matters."
Bach Lan shivered slightly, her lashes trembling with emotion. Her voice was soft, like the night wind:
"Trach Hien."
Her hand reached out, gripping his. He gently lifted her, letting her lean against his shoulder:
"Say nothing, I understand. Just rest."
Bach Lan closed her eyes, resting her head on that warm, steady shoulder, a wall that had protected her through countless years. In that moment, nothing else seemed to matter identity, form, even life itself faded into the gentleness she trusted as love.
"Trach Hien." – She smiled faintly, her breath fragile. – "If I can stay by your side, even if I lose all my spiritual energy, I am willing."
He held her close, pressing a long, passionate kiss to her lips. It was full of desire and longing. Yet in that very moment, Bach Lan's body felt weak, a chill running down her spine. Her internal energy slowed, each spark of vitality fading like scattered ashes in silence.
***
At the same moment, elsewhere, Trach Dong stepped into the house.
Hoan was already waiting:
"Young Master, today you..."
"Shut up! Don't make assumptions. It's just a meal." – His voice was sharp, cutting. – "Watch your words."
Hoan bowed slightly:
"Yes, madam is waiting in the living room."
A middle-aged woman in elegant attire approached, her eyes stern:
"You still know how to come home? It's been a long time since you showed any concern for the patriarch. Keep going like this, and one day you'll be exiled to the rear chambers yourself."
"What's the matter now, mother?" – Trach Dong sighed, weariness in his tone.
"This morning, that illegitimate son of the patriarch sent him a bunch of gifts, such as ginseng, tonic herbs. The patriarch was very pleased. He even thought of asking him to help in the company. And you? You've been exiled far away, yet you still can't see how to win the patriarch's favor."
Trach Dong's lips curved into a cold smile:
"Let him do what he wants."
The woman's anger flared; she slapped him sharply:
"If you don't protect your position, sooner or later you'll be kicked out of the company."
He laughed, eyes darkening like a stormy sky:
"I've carried this company for years. And some illegitimate child wants to compete with me? Who does he think he is, to replace me? Don't worry. He won't do anything."
Without another word, he turned and walked away. His back disappeared behind the stairs, leaving the woman standing there, her gaze heavy with schemes and calculation.
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