Dinh Truong Sinh’s first day on the job went by in a daze. His brain kept looping through two scenes like a cursed film reel: one, Khau Dai Bang and Dien Ngac Nhu in that steamy car last night; and two, Hoac Lu Mau blowing Khau’s head clean off with his service revolver.
“Why are you still here? Work hours are over.”
A familiar but sharp voice pulled him out of his mental loop.
“I—I… Sister-in-law, there’s free food here.”
Startled, Dinh Truong Sinh shot up straight. The woman standing in front of him was none other than Dien Ngac Nhu.
“Pfft. Why so tense? I don’t bite.”
“But your husband might.”
“Why bring him up? Have you eaten yet? If not, come eat at my place.”
“No… I-I couldn’t possibly!”
“Come on. Hoac is cooking tonight. You’re a relative of Chairman Khau, right? Just one dinner, nothing weird.”
Though her words sounded polite, the undertone was razor-sharp—this was not a request.
She walked ahead, and Dinh Truong Sinh followed half a step behind, lips sealed. He was starting to feel that maybe taking this gig wasn’t the smartest move. It was like living in a house with a lit fuse—danger could blow up at any second.
“Do you think I’m… a bad woman?”
Her voice floated back like it came from somewhere far away, yet it struck right into his chest. Dinh Truong Sinh froze.
“I asked you a question,” she turned and looked straight at him.
“No… no way. I’m sure you have your reasons. I’m just a kid, I don’t understand grown-up stuff.”
“Really? You don’t understand? But your eyes last night were wide enough to catch mosquitoes. Tell me—what exactly did you see?”
“I didn’t see anything! Swear to God, I saw nothing!” His voice cracked like a teenager caught sneaking a beer.
Under the dim glow of the streetlight, Dinh Truong Sinh stood there teary-eyed like a bullied puppy. Something softened in Dien Ngac Nhu’s gaze. Out of sight, at the end of the alley, she pulled out a tissue and gently dabbed the corners of his eyes.
“I believe you won’t spill anything. Keep your mouth shut, and I won’t abandon you. Right now, you’re just a temporary guard. Not a real cop. But if there’s an opening for a full-time spot... I’ll put in a word.”
Her hand was gentle, but her meaning was crystal clear. This was an oath sealed in dirt, not blood.
Dinh Truong Sinh’s heart nearly popped out of his chest. He looked around nervously, then nodded like a bobblehead.
“Got it. I won’t say a word. Not to anyone.”
And just like that, he followed her home for dinner.
The meal was rich, full of meat and flavor, but to him, it tasted like cardboard. He couldn’t even swallow properly.
“What’s the matter, kid?” Hoac Lu Mau raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were a talkative one. Cat got your tongue?”
“Big Brother Hoac, hehe... Your cooking is just too good. I’m too busy eating. Ever since I lost my parents, I’ve never had a meal this warm. Honestly, if I hadn’t met Chairman Khau, I probably wouldn’t even have dinner tonight.”
He said it all smooth as butter, but it hit Hoac and Dien Ngac Nhu right in the feels.
“You little punk. I get it. You want free food, huh? Fine. You can come eat anytime—but! You see that pile of firewood out back? Chop it all. And fill the water vat too. We use mountain spring water here. You’ll have to hike to the stream for it.”
“Yes sir! No problem!”
Dien Ngac Nhu’s smile froze. Great, she thought. This idiot’s gonna root himself into our house now. At first, she just wanted to dangle a little bait to keep him quiet. Now he’s practically moved in. If she objected now, it’d look suspicious.
After dinner, Dinh Truong Sinh went back to his dorm to sleep. Free food, a place to crash—he was actually pretty satisfied with his life. Before bed, he even popped into the duty room to chat with Truong Cuong for a bit.
Meanwhile, back at the house...
“What the hell are you thinking, Hoac Lu Mau?” Dien Ngac Nhu hissed. “I said invite him for one meal, just to show some goodwill for Chairman Khau’s ‘relative.’ But now you’re letting him waltz in here whenever? He’s still a man, isn’t he? You’re barely home, and he’s over all the time. What does that look like?”
Bullseye. She knew the truth better than anyone—Dinh Truong Sinh was no real relative. Just a pawn in a political trade. If he got too close, started talking... She could kiss her future goodbye.
“What are you so worked up about? He’s just a kid. What’s he gonna do?”
“Oh? So if it was another man, you’d be fine with that too? Hoac Lu Mau, what are you really trying to say?”
She was fuming. Hoac Lu Mau went silent, staring at his bowl.
Later that night, the silence lingered in the bedroom. Still fuming, Dien Ngac Nhu turned away.
“What are you doing?” she snapped as her husband reached over. “I’m tired. Not in the mood.”
“Haha, come on, honey. If you’re not in the mood, then we’ll make the mood. I checked your calendar—it’s your golden window. Can’t waste it.”
“My what now?”
“Your fertile days. Yesterday I was worried I’d miss the timing. We skip this window, we wait another month. Who knows when we’ll finally get some good news.”
Dien Ngac Nhu blinked. “You… checked?”
“Of course I did. Come on, be good…”
But she wasn’t feeling it. Not even a flicker. Her mind was still trapped in that alley last night.
Neither of them said another word.
Hoac Lu Mau had once taken a bullet on duty and lost a kidney. Ever since then, their bedroom life had basically flatlined—or at least, that’s how it felt to her.
The sky had just begun to brighten when Hoac Lu Mau was jolted awake by the clatter of a metal bucket in the yard, followed by the splash of water being poured into a vat. He propped himself up just enough to peek outside—and there was Dinh Truong Sinh, shirtless, in nothing but a pair of shorts, dumping his second load of water into the vat.
“This kid’s got hustle,” Hoac mumbled, then flopped back down and went straight to sleep.
Meanwhile, Dien Ngac Nhu was already up. She stepped out the door just as Dinh Truong Sinh turned to fetch another load of water.
The morning sun lit up his body. Except for the slight redness where the yoke had pressed into his shoulders, the rest of his muscles were lean, firm, and impressively defined. Dien Ngac Nhu froze, caught off guard.
As if sensing her gaze, Dinh Truong Sinh turned and looked at her, flashed a grin, then casually walked off with the buckets.
Compared to Chairman Khau’s pudgy build and Hoac Lu Mau’s lanky frame, Dinh Truong Sinh’s physique was downright ideal. Now that was a man. Dien Ngac Nhu held a comb in her hand but forgot what she was doing, standing there mid-motion, completely zoning out.
A year ago, one evening, Hoac Lu Mau had invited Chairman Khau Dai Bang over for a drink. They were only halfway through the booze when a fight broke out in Lo Gia Linh. Hoac had to rush off to deal with it.
Khau should’ve gone home too, but Hoac told him to stick around and wait—“We’ll drink more when I get back,” he said. So Khau waited. And drank. And waited.
It got late. Hoac still hadn’t returned.
By then, Dien Ngac Nhu—who had been reluctantly keeping Khau company—was already tipsy. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy. Khau Dai Bang, staring at her, couldn’t hold himself back. He dragged her to the bed.
Even in her drunken haze, Dien Ngac Nhu was still conscious. She resisted, she really did. But she was just one woman—drunk and small—no match for a heavyset man like him. Within minutes, he had her pinned down completely.
The worst part wasn’t the force. It was the intensity. The way he touched her… it awakened something that Hoac Lu Mau had never, ever given her.
Ever since that night, every time she thought about it, her thighs would clench involuntarily—trying to shake off the shame and memory. But the mind was already corrupted. The body, even more so.
At first, Khau Dai Bang had felt a twinge of guilt. After all, he and Hoac were sort-of friends. Sleeping with the man’s wife was, admittedly, a low blow. But when he realized there were no consequences, his guts grew bolder.
He figured Dien Ngac Nhu wouldn’t dare breathe a word.
So after that, any time he knew Hoac was out, he’d show up like clockwork. At first, she resisted. But after a while… things just happened.
Back in the present…
“Kid, I was joking yesterday—did you really take it seriously?” Hoac Lu Mau said, squatting outside the door in uniform, cigarette between his fingers, watching Dinh Truong Sinh—still shirtless—swinging an axe in the yard.
“Captain Hoac! You were kind enough to give me a chance. How could I not go all in? Look—this firewood’s split perfectly, right?”
“Not bad! You’re wiry but solid. What, grew up doing farm work? Or were you just scaling fences and running from dogs all day?”
“Come on, Captain, don’t roast me like that! I’ve pulled some dumb stunts in my time, sure—but most of my life’s been honest labor. We’ve got two mu of land up in the hills. I usually help the uncles and aunties around the village too. If I didn’t hustle, I’d have starved a long time ago.”
“Haha, good! A man’s gotta carry his weight. But hey—don’t go sneaking around anymore, alright? First it’s petty theft, next thing you know, you're stealing livestock!”
“Breakfast is ready!” Dien Ngac Nhu’s voice cut in just in time. She carried a tray out into the yard.