"For the most beautiful lady in this mansion. Happy birthday, Mrs. Liễu!"
Dung carefully set the big, gorgeous bouquet down on the round kitchen table.
Mrs. Liễu, pencil in one hand and notebook in the other, was busy tallying household expenses. She looked up at him—no surprise, no warm smile, just that sharp, measuring look in her eyes.
"From Mr. Liễu, for you," Dung said brightly.
She gave a dry, knowing laugh. "No wonder my husband keeps you around—quick, slick, and you don't miss a thing."
"Thank you for the compliment, ma'am."
"Too bad for you, my husband's never remembered my birthday, not once. So… that bouquet's wasted."
Dung met the eyes of a woman whose inner fire had long gone out, and felt a quiet heaviness settle inside him. She was the perfect tragic portrait of a rich man's wife. Dung gave her a gentle smile and said:
"Men forget. It's not that they want to—it's just how they're wired. No point holding it against them, Mrs. Liễu."
She patted the chair beside her, inviting him to sit, then poured him a glass of water.
"If wrecking other people's marriages wasn't your line of work, I might've treated you like family."
"That's unfair, ma'am. Man or woman, they only come to me when the cracks are already there, and I'm not the one holding the hammer."
He could hear the faint grind of her teeth.
"As a wife, I can turn a blind eye to my husband's affairs. But as a mother—if I catch even a whiff of you plotting against my daughter or my son—I swear you won't live to regret it."
Dung simply nodded, offering no defense, because he'd always revered a mother's heart and the quiet beauty of her sacrifice."
Mrs. Liễu brought out a glass vase and began arranging the flowers with Dung, stem by stem.
Well, well… look at you two, all cozy over a bunch of flowers."
The sharp, sour voice of Mis. Tư cut in, making her mother jump. Her finger grazed a thorn and drew blood. Dung quickly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the cut.
"Why are you fussing over my mom like that?"
Mis. Tư sauntered into the kitchen, still in a thin-strapped nightgown. The sight was so indecent, it ticked Dung off.
"Watch your mouth, that's your mother you're talking to."
"And you dare raise your voice at me?"
Hands on her hips, she glanced at the table. "What's this? Wrapping paper, ribbons… Oh, so these are flowers you bought?"
"Mis. Tư, it's your mother's birthday today," Dung reminded her. "These are from your father."
She looked a little embarrassed, but the urge to win the argument still burned.
"Even so… someone like you doesn't get to sit at the same table as my mother."
"Tư, cut it out and get upstairs to change," Mrs. Liễu snapped. "I told you not to parade around downstairs half-dressed. Now move!"
She took the vase to the living room. Dung followed, throwing Miss Tư a dark look.
"Don't think you can fool me," Mis. Tư said, grabbing his arm. "You're trying to butter up my mom, aren't you?"
"Yeah."
"Are you out of your mind? In this house, you can flirt with anyone you like, except my mom."
"Why not?"
"She's old. What do you want from her? Isn't bleeding me… and my father… dry enough for you?"
Dung looked down at her, his eyes stripped of the usual softness.
"Your mother's the one who owns this house. Win her over and the benefits are bigger."
"You do that, and I'll tell my father!"
"Why so selfish? You get to have your fun, your father's been out playing around for years, why not let your mother have her freedom?"
"She's a proper mother. That means she can't."
"Daughters like you are… a damn shame."
The last two words stayed on his lips, never spoken aloud.
"You've got some nerve!"
She took a swing at him, but he caught her wrist. From outside came Mrs. Liễu's voice:
"Tư, have you gone upstairs yet? What's taking so long?"
"See? Your mother's never liked me, so what are you jealous of her for?" Dung suddenly changed his tone, slipping an arm around her waist, coaxing. "If I get in her good graces, it's only to be closer to you."
"I know what you are, so save the sweet talk. You try throwing your weight around in this house, you'll have me to deal with."
"Yes, Mis. Tư," he said, raising both hands in mock surrender, the old teasing grin back on his face. On his way to the living room, he couldn't resist giving her cheek a playful squeeze.
Just as Mrs. Liễu set the vase of flowers on the table, Mr. Liễu came home. Seeing his wife's bright face, he asked:
"What's the occasion today, huh? Why the flowers?"
Damn it, Dung cursed inwardly. He should've warned the man about the bouquet. Now the whole thing was for nothing.
"Dung, come up to my room. Need a word." Mr. Liễu took a few steps, then stopped and turned back to his wife. "Hương, you want anything today?"
"No," she answered at once. "Why… is something going on?"
He didn't bother replying, just gave her a bored look before heading upstairs.
Watching it unfold, Dung could only sigh. The husband hadn't forgotten the special day; he was just waiting for his wife to ask for something. And she… she'd long since let the fire go out. Hopeless.
Dung followed Mr. Liễu upstairs. Halfway up, he heard the sound of something breaking. He was about to run back down when Mis. Tư strolled up to him and said:
"Nothing. My mom… just smashed that vase of flowers."
A triumphant smile curved her lips. She hummed a cheerful little tune and disappeared behind her bedroom door.
"Completely hopeless," Dung muttered, then stepped into Mr. Liễu's room.
"What's the plan for tonight?" Mr. Liễuc asked.
"I think you should stay home, sir... "
"Not interested," he cut in with a wave of his hand. "If a person doesn't know how to ask for something, where's the fun in that?"
Dung only smiled, saying nothing.
"Now, let's get to the important part. You know what's coming up?"
"Business or personal, sir?"
"My son."
Dung frowned. "You mean…the mandatory military training?"
Mr. Liễu nodded. "This time, looks like they're going to be strict."
"So you want me to find a way to keep your son from going?"
"No. He's going."
That caught Dung off guard.
"The way things are now, you never know how the wind will turn. I don't want him carrying any kind of bad mark."
"But if he goes through that training, he's going to have a rough time."
"That's why I'm coming to you," Mr. Liễu said, eyes locking on him. "I want you to go with him and make sure everything runs smooth. Your name's already on the list."
"Why didn't you tell me first? That means being locked in there for two weeks. Who's going to take care of things here?" Dung protested.
"You only need to take care of my son, that's the biggest payday you'll ever get. Everything else can wait."
"That's not going to work, sir..."
"It'll work. You've taken the money. You don't get to choose."
Damn it, Dung swore to himself.