Pale golden light stretched across the old wooden bookshelves, the scent of fresh-printed paper mingling with herbal tea from the nearby counter, creating a calm aroma that made the heart soften.
Bach Lan stood among a row of old architecture books, tilting her head as she skimmed the covers. Her hair fell gently against her cheek with every breath, a quiet, delicate scene that made the person across from her unable to look away.
Trach Dong stood opposite her. He didn't reach for any books, only watched her silently. It seemed that among all the choices in the world, just standing there and watching her in that moment was enough.
A book slipped from her hand, and he instinctively reached out to catch it.
Their eyes met.
In that instant, the quiet space was filled not only with the soft notes of the piano but also with a suspended stillness where every thought seemed to pause.
Bach Lan hesitated, about to step back, when he unexpectedly extended his hand.
No words, no questions were needed.
It was just a silent gesture, his hand waiting in midair.
She paused for a moment, then placed her hand into his, and naturally, their fingers intertwined.
Her hand was small, warm, trembling slightly. His hand was large, steady, and gentle as he held hers.
They stood there among the bookshelves, bathed in the slanted light, for a while.
Bach Lan looked around, there was no one else in that space.
Only him, only her, and the sincere peace that surrounded them.
Among thousands of books about love, they silently began writing a chapter all their own.
One evening, the air suddenly turned cold, the early winter wind slipping through the fogged glass windows.
Bach Lan, exhausted after a long day, planned to quietly retreat to her room when Trach Dong appeared with a cup of hot ginger tea. His hand still bore a faint red mark from clumsily preparing it.
"Cautious, it's hot." – He said, his voice low, his gaze slightly averted, not meeting hers directly.
She blinked at him, then lowered her eyes. A familiar wave of emotion swept through her.
That hand, those eyes... they reminded her so vividly of him from the past. The warmth was the same as the comfort she had felt at the frozen lake long ago.
The cup trembled slightly in her hands.
"Are you okay?" – Trach Dong asked softly, his brow furrowed.
Bach Lan shook her head quickly, trying to suppress the ache in her chest, but a fleeting wobble caused her to stumble slightly.
He reached out and steadied her elbow.
That touch was gentle yet firm, as if pulling a flood of memories back to her. For a brief moment, she looked up at him, her heart tightening.
Those eyes, though no longer flashing silver like before, still held that familiar calm depth.
That face now is Trach Dong's yet her heart knew deep inside he remained the same wolf soul who had once sacrificed everything for her.
Her throat went dry; words would not come.
Her hand instinctively lifted, brushing lightly against his cheek. The touch was fleeting, like a passing breeze, yet it made Trach Dong freeze. He looked at her, puzzled, unsure why she was staring at him as if on the verge of tears.
"What... are you thinking?" – He asked, his voice low and steady.
Bach Lan pressed her lips together, hesitated, then shook her head softly.
"Nothing... it's just... this feeling... it's so familiar."
Her eyes glistened, yet she smiled. A small smile but weighted with unspoken sorrow.
Trach Dong said nothing.
He didn't know her thoughts, but some instinct made him place his hand on her back, as if to reassure her.
She did not pull away, leaning slightly against him.
And for the first time, Bach Lan allowed that emotion, her sorrow, her regret, and a quiet, lingering love to flow fully in her heart.
One late evening, in Trach Dong's luxurious apartment, a light drizzle tapped softly against the fogged glass windows. The room's gentle lighting brushed over his face, calm and steady.
Bach Lan leaned against his shoulder, hands wrapped around a warm cup of cocoa, eyes half-closed.
Trach Dong said nothing. He simply draped a thin blanket over her shoulders and brushed the stray strands of hair from her forehead.
"If you're tired, rest." – He murmured.
"Mm." – She replied, her voice barely a breath.
In that tender silence, his hand found hers, caressing gently before their fingers intertwined.
She didn't pull away, only squeezed slightly.
That simple hold carried no flourish, no grand declaration. It was just the quiet assurance of being together, steady and full in its own way.
After a while, she rested her head on his shoulder and whispered,
"Trach Dong, thank you... for always being quietly by my side."
He looked at her, silent, yet his gaze softened, and a subtle emotion stirred within him.
Then very gently, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She blinked in surprise, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She lifted her eyes to meet his, and this time, she didn't look away.
She had once thought she would never love again... but in that moment, she realized some warmth doesn't need time to be trusted.
And for the first time, they kissed slowly, sincerely, unhurried, as if they had waited a long time just to dare to be this close.
The next morning, in the company's executive meeting room, the air was thick with tension, almost suffocating.
Trach Hien spoke calmly, presenting a barrage of figures and new plans, positioning himself as the savior of the situation.
A few shareholders wavered.
It seemed the tide was turning in his favor until Trach Dong stood up, quietly opening the file he had prepared.
No grand words. He simply said:
"Before making a final decision, I ask you to review the independent audit data commissioned from a third party."
Stacks of documents were passed to everyone.
The papers detailed stock manipulation, internal corruption, and secret lobbying of weaker shareholders, all subtly pointing toward Trach Hien's involvement. Though not definitive proof, the implication was clear, and the room shifted almost instantly.
The atmosphere froze.
An elderly shareholder slammed his hand on the table:
"I've said it before, Trach Dong is trustworthy, yet no one listened. He speaks little but acts decisively. That is the mark of a true leader!"
Those who had once criticized him nodded in quiet agreement, too wary to utter another word. They feared being drawn once again into the power games of the Trach family.
After the meeting, Trach Hien clenched his fists, his face pale. He hadn't expected that all this time, Trach Dong had pretended to be weaker, quietly investigating while he let his guard down and then struck decisively at the last moment, like a dagger to the heart.
In the long hallway, he saw Bach Lan standing alone by the window.
She didn't look at him. Her heart had grown cold, like winter snow. A gentle breeze swept through her long hair.
Trach Hien stepped forward, forcing himself to speak: "You're on his side, huh?"
Bach Lan didn't answer. She stared into the distance. After a long pause, she finally whispered: "Trach Dong doesn't need me to stand by him. He... can stand on his own."
Trach Hien froze. He wanted to say something, but the words stuck in his throat.
In his eyes, the girl who had once been innocent, who had trusted him completely, had changed. She had become a woman strong enough to choose who truly deserved to stand beside her.
She turned to him, her gaze not cold, but resolute.
"You once had everything I could give. But you didn't choose to hold on, you chose to measure and count."
The breeze blew cold again, and Trach Hien suddenly realized that he was the one left behind in someone else's winter.
Trach Dong's office, late at night.
The dim light blurred across the stacks of documents spread over the desk. Trach Dong stood quietly, holding a file that detailed illegal money transfers, evidence of bribery, forged contracts, all signed by Trach Hien.
He furrowed his brows, eyes dark and steady, then picked up the phone:
"Come see me. We need to talk."
Half an hour later, in the office.
Trach Hien walked in, his face still wearing the mask of calm, believing that Trach Dong hadn't yet found solid evidence. But the moment his eyes landed on the file on the desk, they immediately darkened.
Trach Dong didn't waste words.
"I've traced everything to the source. If this comes out, it won't just be you, your entire family and anyone who helped you will be implicated."
Trach Hien clenched his fists.
"What do you want?"
"Confession. Admit your crimes and take responsibility. I will see what I can do to reduce the consequences."
A heavy silence fell between them. The air in the room felt thick, almost suffocating.
"Who do you think you are, to judge me?" – Trach Hien hissed, his eyes blazing. – "I only did what I had to do to survive! Everything you have... I could never have dreamed of!"
Trach Dong remained quiet for a moment, letting out a faint sigh before speaking softly:
"No one ever intended to compete with you."
He turned away coldly, a trace of irritation in his movements. Trach Dong's words barely seemed to register.
Though he did not wish to completely cut off the path of someone who shared his blood, this time he could show no mercy.
© Note: When The Heart Remembers – Copyright belongs to Zieny. Any copying, editing, or reuploading in any form without permission is strictly prohibited. Violators will be prosecuted according to the law.