Under the night sky, the lights in the village gradually faded. The entire Bang Duc village was swallowed by a deep silence. The mountain mist grew thicker.
At this moment, Dinh Truong Sinh curled up inside a hollow tree, his eyes fixed on the only path leading into the mountains. He didn’t dare sleep—for tonight, he’d done something that could very well cost him his life.
Dinh Truong Sinh, seventeen years old, should’ve still been in school. But the flood last year took away his parents, leaving him alone with no one to rely on. His relatives, greedy and malicious, snatched away every bit of his family’s belongings. In less than a year, a once-promising student had become a drifter with no purpose.
A few hours earlier, after dinner, Dinh Truong Sinh walked out of the house with a toothpick in his mouth. It was his nightly routine—tomorrow's meal was still a question mark. So tonight, he had to find a way to get by. No matter whose house it was, if he could take something, he wouldn’t hesitate.
He circled the village, but found nothing worth stealing. Just as disappointment set in, he passed the gate of Dinh Dai Khue, the village chief. A faint light flickered in a corner of the yard—like a lighthouse cutting through the night.
Creeping closer, he pressed himself against the tall, thick wall. Inside, he heard the gentle trickle of water—droplets flowing through underground grooves, spilling onto the road.
He knew exactly what that was. The bathroom of Dinh Dai Khue. The only house in the whole village with such luxury. He’d once stepped inside and couldn’t forget the gleaming white tiled floors and walls. To him, it was the very symbol of wealth.
Holding his breath, he leaned in to listen. Suddenly, a soft humming echoed from inside—a woman’s voice! His heart skipped. It had to be Dinh Dai Khue’s wife!
Like a wildcat, he crept along the wall toward the light.
When the forbidden sight appeared before him, he froze. Inside, Tran My Le—Dinh Dai Khue’s wife—was completely unaware of the eyes watching her.
Most women in the countryside were strong and sun-tanned from working the fields. But Tran My Le was an exception.
The Dinh family had no need for her to farm. Many people, eager to please the village chief, offered help with the harvest. So, even in her thirties and a mother of two, she remained fair-skinned and beautiful—more radiant than girls half her age.
Inside, she was bathing, her hands moving over her plump, smooth body. Dinh Truong Sinh stared, dazed, swallowing hard. The sound made her pause—her hands froze.
Panic surged through him. He wanted to pull back, but didn’t dare move. One wrong twitch and he’d be caught.
But some things can't be avoided. Tran My Le suddenly looked up—and saw the stunned face of Dinh Truong Sinh peeking over the wall. He grinned sheepishly, his teeth shining like a toothpaste ad.
"Ahhh!"
Her scream tore through the night.
Thud!
Startled, Dinh Truong Sinh lost his balance and fell straight off the wall. He didn’t care about pain—he kicked off his sandals and ran, not even daring to return home.
Because at that very moment, Dinh Dai Khue had already gathered men with flashlights, scouring the village for him. So, he fled straight to Tiger’s Rest Mountain and hid inside a large tree hollow he believed to be safe.
The man Dinh Truong Sinh had saved the night before turned out to be none other than the Chairman of the township.
Early the next morning, Khau Dai Bang appeared at the office, dressed impeccably, exuding the air of a true leader.
Right at the entrance stood Dinh Truong Sinh, nervously waiting.
"Good morning, Uncle Khau!" Dinh Truong Sinh straightened up and even gave a military-style salute.
"And who might you be?" Khau Dai Bang asked, brows furrowed.
"I'm Dinh Truong Sinh," he replied, trying to keep a straight face while cursing inwardly,
If I hadn’t pulled your ass out of the mud last night, would you even be standing here pretending you don’t know me?
Inwardly, Khau Dai Bang was seething, wishing he could just kill the brat right then and there. But he couldn’t. Dien Ngac Nhu had been right—killing someone over this wasn’t worth it. As long as he kept this kid firmly under his thumb, he’d find a way to deal with him.
“Well then, Young Dinh, come in.”"