CHAPTER 48
Hearing that, Đông Anh's face went pale.
"No, Ma! You know I'm going back to the seminary."
"I know, dear... it's just—what if one day you change your mind? You're old enough to start meeting people. Think of it as just a friendly get-together, nothing more."
"Ma..."
"Go ahead, Út!" Dung said as he tossed the towel over Đông Anh's head and began drying his wet hair right there in front of Mr. Liễu's wife.
"Dung! I said no!"
"Go! Who knows, maybe you'll change your mind—just like your ma said."
He turned to Mr. Liễu's wife with that smooth half-smile. "This weekend, if the Madam wants Út to go on a matchmaking date, I'll take him there myself."
"I said I don't want to!" Đông Anh snapped.
"Út, go upstairs and change out of those wet clothes first—we'll talk later."
Dung gave him a push toward the stairs.
"I'm not going. And I'm not changing my mind either!"
"Well, nobody can say for sure."
The two young men bickered all the way up the stairs, still half-grappling with each other, brushing past Ms. Tư without even a glance.
"How on earth does you think a blind date will stop Út?" Ms. Tư muttered, stepping toward her mother.
"I didn't think, I didn't plan to stop anything," Mr. Liễu's wife said flatly, turning away toward the kitchen.
"If you don't stop it, then don't cry when that pimp steals the last man in your life."
Mr. Liễu's wife turned, her voice trembling. "Út's a good boy. He won't turn out like his father or his brother."
"But he's still a man—just like Dad and Hai (the oldest brother)."
Mr. Liễu's wife shook her head stubbornly. "Út would never break God's commandments. He'll hold on to virtue for this whole family. And you, Tư—watch your tongue. In your brother's eyes, this family must always be happy, always righteous."
"I'll never understand this house," Ms. Tư shot back bitterly. "Why must we all keep pretending to be happy in front of Út? Or is it that you just want to keep lying to yourself—so you can go on living this miserable, submissive life of yours?"
"A loose-mouthed, wayward girl like you—sooner or later, you'll get yourself in trouble, child."
"But I sure as hell won't let any man of mine be taken by somebody else."
The two women locked eyes, fury burning between them.
"Keep playing blind, Ma—keep enduring. But when you lose your precious little son, don't you dare complain. I'm telling you—this time, Dung won't just rot the morals of the men in this house. He'll steal Út's body and his heart."
With that, Ms. Tư threw up her chin and strode upstairs.
.
The waist-hugs, the clasped hands, the affectionate looks, the kiss on the brow — and even Út's rumpled clothes the night he returned from Liberty — Ms. Tư remembered every one of those images, and her heart grew heavier with each memory. To her, it was unmistakable evidence of a furtive affair. She was certain of it because Dung had once tried something similar on her.
"No, I'm not jealous!" Ms. Tư told herself. "I'm only watching over my stupid little brother. Why won't anyone admit the strange relationship those two have? Especially Dad..."
She passed her father's study and glanced inside. "Dad's away." She pushed the door open and sat down in his authoritative desk chair. She remembered that whenever he had to think about important matters, he would sit here with a solemn face, his head propped on one hand. Ms. Tư imitated him, hoping to borrow a little of his knack for sorting things out. Now she was thinking about ways to separate her brother from that man, Dung Tây. Then she saw the family portrait of the five Kims — all smiling happily. It annoyed her so much that she pushed it face-down onto the desk.
"What's the point of Dad putting up such a fake picture? Does it really take this much trouble to hide things from Út?" She tapped her fingers on the table. "If that kid ever found out the truth about this family, about the man who's been eating away at his happy home... how pleased he'd be."
Ms. Tư walked to the large wooden wardrobe where her father's coats hung. She slowly opened both doors, a malicious smile curling her lips.
.
"You look a little tired, sir. Something on your mind?"
Dung sank into the oversized sofa in Mr. Liễu's study, waiting calmly for a reply.
"Yeah... a few things. One of them has to do with you. Can you guess what?"
Dung looked at him but chose to stay silent.
"My precious daughter's been whining non-stop," Mr. Liễu went on. "She says her favorite driver doesn't follow her around anymore—now he sticks to her younger brother like glue."
Dung gave a slow shake of his head, as if hearing something absurd. "Well, that's what a driver's supposed to do, isn't it?"
"True. I told her the same thing, but she wouldn't have it. She says that driver's been a little too affectionate with her brother." Mr. Liễu sighed. "What do you think, Dung?"
Dung locked eyes with the old man, trying to figure out what the wily boss was really after
"You still remember our agreement, don't you?" Mr. Liễu said. "Your real reward only comes after my son returns to the seminary."
"I remember, sir. Every single day."
"Everyone wants profit, but one should know what's within reach. Stretch too far, and you lose both bait and fish—don't you think?"
"Yes, sir. I only tried to do my job right. Somehow it turned into an eyesore for Mis. Tư, that's all..."
"Forget that girl," Mr. Liễu waved a hand. "I'll have her married off soon enough."
"Then good for her," Dung replied lightly. "But... there's something I've been wondering too."
"Oh?"
"Suppose one day Mr. Út decides to stay here, fall in love, maybe even get married—would you stop him?"
Mr. Liễu shrugged. "I'd think you would be the first to stop him—for your own profit's sake."
Dung chuckled. "Of course..." He paused. "Anyway, let's get to the point, sir. You called me here for something, didn't you?"
"I'm thinking of taking a short vacation."
Catching the familiar hint, Dung's eyes lit up. "Word is, you've been eyeing that new songbird at my place."
"News travels fast with you."
"Wouldn't have your trust otherwise," Dung grinned. "So—a seaside getaway, business and pleasure? I'll assign someone reliable to go with you."
"Why someone else? I don't deal with strangers."
Dung nodded knowingly. "Understood, sir. Then maybe we switch to the Cat Loi casino, down in the Chinese district?"
"What's gotten into you? First you want me to travel with a stranger, now you want me surrounded by crowds. Can you shut a dozen mouths at once?"
"Don't worry. I'll stake my reputation on it."
"You've got guts, kid. Seems your power reaches farther than I thought. Tell me, why make things harder for yourself? Is something big about to happen in Saigon?"
Dung smiled faintly. "With Út here in Saigon, where else would I dare go?"
"Seems my daughter wasn't making things up when she said you were getting too close to that boy."
"I'm just doing my duty, sir. And besides... Saigon's been restless lately."
At that, Mr. Liễu's eyes darkened, drifting off. "How long do you think Saigon can hold out?"
"Long enough for you to enjoy your curly-haired songbird, sir."
Mr. Liễu burst into laughter, slapping Dung's shoulder. "You cheeky brat!"
After a few more light words, Dung rose to leave.
"I'll take my leave now, sir."
"Alright. Make sure everything's ready."
"Yes, sir. Oh—almost forgot, sir. When's your next visit to your timeless mistress?"
Mr. Liễu fell silent, letting out a long sigh. Dung caught the weariness in his eyes.
"If you're tired of her, then... you'll let her go free, won't you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Figured I should tell you—she's got a date lined up with that big Yank general, John."
"Is she desperate for money? You have been giving her my allowance every month, haven't you?"
"She's saving up to send her son overseas," Dung replied.
"That crazy woman!" Mr. Liễu clicked his tongue, shaking his head.
Suddenly, a loud thud came from the wood wardrobe. Dung swiftly drew his gun and moved toward it, while Mr. Liễu reached under the desk for his own weapon.
The wardrobe's lock was snapped shut, the key still stuck in the keyhole. "That wardrobe's never locked," Dung thought.
One hand on the lock, the other ready with the gun, he glanced back at Mr. Liễu and gave a quick nod. Then, with a sudden pull, he flung both doors open—gun cocked and aimed inside.
Dung froze. His lips twitched slightly, but the reaction was too small for Mr. Liễu to notice from his desk. So the old man didn't doubt a word when Dung called back, "Just a coat hook falling off, sir."
Mr. Liễu withdrew his hand from the drawer and stepped closer. Dung had already shut the wardrobe.
"I don't remember keeping any hooks in there," Mr. Liễu murmured.
"The one for your coats, sir. Oh—and there's something urgent I forgot to tell you..."
Dung leaned in, whispering quickly into his ear while steering him toward the door.
"Oh? Then I'd better see to it right away," said Mr. Liễu, patting Dung's shoulder and striding out.
When the footsteps faded, Dung turned back to the wardrobe. He opened it and reached inside, helping someone step out.
"Út... what happened? Who locked you in there?"
As his eyes swept over Đông Anh, he stopped at the shattered look in the boy's eyes. The sight cut straight into his chest.
"You... heard everything I said to your dad, didn't you?"
Đông Anh nodded vacantly.
Dung grasped his hands, pleading softly. "Út, ask me anything you want—I'll tell you everything, I swear. Just... hear it from me first."
Đông Anh pulled his hands away and walked out in silence.
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