9
Actually, it wasn’t hard to guess where A Thu had been buried, because we’d promised to be buried together.
It was just that she’d gone ahead of me by far too many steps.
I searched the cemetery all afternoon, and finally, in the last row, I saw a familiar name: Thẩm Thu.
The area around the headstone was very clean, with a few offerings arranged on top.
It was obvious that someone came by to clean it regularly.
But A Thu’s only relative had died long ago. So who else would come here?
I gently stroked A Thu’s smiling face in the photograph and murmured about everything that had happened over the past year.
After talking for a long time, I finally added a complaint: “If you hate me, then hate me. But why wouldn’t you even let me find you in the end?”
I sat in front of her headstone for a long time. Only after it was completely dark did I start the journey home.
As my taxi passed the building where Đoàn Châu’s company was, I saw all the lights blazing inside. Unable to resist, I got out and went straight to the CEO’s office.
Đoàn Châu was at his desk handling documents. When he saw me, he looked surprised.
Before he could say a word, I ran over to him in tears.
It was strange, really. I hadn’t cried when I learned A Thu had died, or when I saw her headstone. But now, seeing Đoàn Châu, I was crying as if my heart were breaking.
It was like when I was little and the neighborhood brat had “dismembered” my favorite teddy bear. I didn’t cry right away, but when my parents came home from work, I threw myself into their arms and bawled.
But what had they said back then?
“We’re exhausted after working all day. Stop crying and bothering us.”
Then they pushed me away.
To keep Đoàn Châu from pushing me away too, I wrapped both legs tightly around his waist and clung to his neck.
“What happened? Did Đào Nhiên bully you?”
He’d never seen me like this before. He stopped dealing with the documents, looking a little flustered.
I shook my head and sobbed, “A Thu… A Thu is dead.”
The Đoàn family was always very careful when choosing a daughter-in-law. They’d probably looked into my background before the wedding, so they must have known what A Thu meant to me.
Sure enough, Đoàn Châu wasn’t surprised, and he didn’t ask who A Thu was.
He just kept gently patting my back, repeating, “There, there,” and, “Don’t cry.”
It was as if he’d never comforted anyone before.
I’d clutched Đoàn Châu’s expensive suit so tightly that it was wrinkled, and a large patch on the shoulder was soaked.
I don’t remember much of what happened after that. I only know that Đoàn Châu left work early and carried me home after I cried myself into exhaustion and fell asleep.
10
When I woke up the next morning and remembered how hysterically I’d cried the night before, I was so embarrassed I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes.
It was strange, really.
I clearly felt that my marriage to Đoàn Châu existed in name only, and I remembered all too well that I’d prepared divorce papers more than a month ago. But now, it seemed I was becoming less and less able to live without him.
I’m a stubborn person.
Once I love someone, I love them for life.
At first, I thought I’d misjudged him, but later I realized that wasn’t the case.
Whether it was how considerate he’d been on our first blind date, looking out for me when I didn’t know how to eat Western food, or how I’d never been to Đoàn Châu’s company before but had been able to walk straight to the CEO’s office the first time I went, or how a workaholic like him had left work three hours early—all of it was telling me:
Maybe… Đoàn Châu had been quietly falling in love with me, too.
His love was so proper, old-fashioned, and awkward. It only changed a little when something from the outside gave him a sense of urgency.
Just as Đào Nhiên had said: “My big brother? He’s been two-faced since he was a kid.”
After we got up, we both tacitly agreed not to bring up the previous night.
He was afraid I’d be upset, while I was waiting for a chance to figure out who Đào Nhiên really was.
I wasn’t sure whether Đào Nhiên knew why I’d cried the day before, but after dinner, I took the initiative and suggested bringing her to the neighboring city for a visit.
Đào Nhiên feigned surprise, covered her mouth, and smiled like a green tea girl. “Oh, but I just heard Big Brother took a day off especially to spend time with Sister-in-law. Wouldn’t he be sad?”
All right, it seemed she had no idea what had happened the night before.
I asked Đoàn Châu what he thought. He just shook his head and said, “If you want to go, then go.”
He said “you,” not “you two.”
He’d always respected his wife’s wishes. As long as I asked, he’d never refused.
Except when it came to Đào Nhiên clinging to me.
But… I rarely asked for anything, either.
Thinking about it, I was always saying that Đoàn Châu treated me with polite distance. But what about me?
Đoàn Châu said he wanted to take us, but I refused and told him to go back to the office and focus on his work.
His beautiful eyes lowered, making it impossible to read what he was thinking.
Đoàn Châu had always been hard to read.
He had the characteristic air of authority of someone in a high position and never let his emotions show.
I thought for a moment, then decided to take a small step forward. While Đào Nhiên was upstairs packing, I gave Đoàn Châu a quick kiss on the cheek.
His dark eyes suddenly lit up.
I thought that the old me would never have acted so coy.
I was afraid Đoàn Châu wouldn’t like it.
When I first moved here, I always felt that this man was a little like my parents.
They were just as cold.
When I was little and tried to get closer to them, they would push me away and say I was being childish.
They were exhausted from working all day and had no time left to pay attention to me.
Because of how my parents treated me, I once believed that all workaholics in the world had no need for love.
And I was nothing more than an excuse Đoàn Châu used to deal with his parents.
But some things began to change after Đào Nhiên came to this house.
The night Đoàn Châu grabbed my wrist and stopped me in the living room, deep down, I’d always known he’d done it on purpose.
Because when I entered the living room, Đoàn Châu’s phone was still lit on the nightstand.
The browser’s search history was clearly visible on the screen. I saw every single search.
“How do I get along with my wife?”
“What should I do if my little sister is competing with me for my wife?”
“How can I regain my appeal as a man?”
“Does the handsome-man routine work?”
“Why does my wife prefer my little sister?”
That night, I was still laughing in my dreams.
Đoàn Châu’s ears weren’t red, but the gloom around him had lifted considerably. His tone, however, remained serious.
“Next time, kiss me here.”
He pointed to his lips.
I have to say, he’d learned a lot from the internet.
He was a lot better than before.
11
On the way, Đào Nhiên talked nonstop, her eyes full of curiosity about the neighboring city.
You’d never guess she’d been here several times before.
I almost let my suspicions sway me.
I didn’t take her straight to A Thu’s house. Instead, I headed in the opposite direction, toward the outskirts.
The scenery on the outskirts was beautiful, and there were very few people around.
Perfect for sightseeing—and for committing a crime.
In broad daylight, someone came out of nowhere, grabbed me around the neck, and dragged me into the grass.
Seeing that, Đào Nhiên threw a punch.
I saw her lead with her left hand.
Then she threw a low kick.
The other person dodged quickly, and Đào Nhiên’s kick missed.
But I seized the chance to break free of their hold.
I tried to pull Đào Nhiên away, but she refused. Dropping her usual weak, sweet green-tea-girl act, she shouted, “How dare you lay a hand on my sister-in-law! Do you have a death wish?!”
I burst out laughing.
She really did look like her.
I remembered that back in high school, A Thu had always been quick to stand up for others. Plenty of people picked fights with her, and since we were close, I often got dragged into it too.
But I wasn’t afraid, because A Thu was great at fighting.
So A Thu would usually fight in some alley while I sat on a rock doing my homework, the wind blowing past my ears.
Whenever I got tired of writing, I’d look up to see how the fight was going.
Of course, A Thu always came away without a scratch and won by a landslide.
She was right-handed, but liked to lead with her left when she fought.
Then came a low kick.
If that didn’t knock her opponent down, she’d follow up with the next move: the Shadowless Kick.
I remembered every one of her fighting moves.
I also remembered how, after the cries had echoed all around, she’d take my hand beneath the setting sun and say:
“Hey, let’s go home.”
“How’d you finish today’s homework already?!”
“Come home and explain it to me.”
Loud and lively—that was our high school life.
Maybe judging by just two moves was too presumptuous. So I stopped Đào Nhiên’s leg as it was about to kick and said with absolute certainty:
“Silly, I recognized you.”