Fortunately, it was the weekend, which gave me time. I woke up early and went straight to the kitchen, preparing a pot of chicken porridge with shiitake mushrooms—the dish Grandmother loved most when I cooked for her.
In this family, aside from my father-in-law who was curt and distant, she was the only one who made me feel a genuine warmth of kinship. She often told me stories from her youth: how she and Grandfather had fallen in love, the struggles and joys of their early days together. Age had weakened her body, leaving her mostly confined to her room, but her mind remained clear and sharp.
Huy was her pride, her most beloved grandson. Still, there was also Danh—Huy's cousin on his father's side—who held his own share of DragonTech's stock and managed the company's retail division as a director.
When the porridge was done, I ladled some into a container and carried it over to the main house.
Ms. Oanh, the maid, was sweeping the courtyard when she spotted me and smiled.
"Here early today, Miss An?"
"Is Grandmother awake yet?" I asked, holding up the container. "I made some chicken and mushroom porridge for her."
"Go on upstairs," she said kindly. "She's in her room."
Inside, the main house was quiet. My father-in-law was nowhere to be seen—likely out on business. As I approached Grandmother's room, I paused. Her voice, faint but firm, drifted through the slightly open door.
"I won't live much longer. You and Huy must keep the company steady."
"Mother, don't burden yourself with company matters," came my father-in-law's voice, smooth and practiced. "Huy knows what he's doing. And I'm hardly a figurehead."
"Don't flatter yourself," she snapped, a sharpness in her tone that belied her frailty. "I may be confined to this bed, but I can still see clearly. Huy is the grandson I place my hopes in—he's steadier, more reliable than Danh. Yet if something happens to me, my modest shares alone won't be enough to tip the balance. Unless the shareholders see Huy as someone they can trust completely."
"You needn't worry," he assured her. "Whoever holds your shares, it doesn't matter. As for Huy, you can rest easy. He's wise. He won't sacrifice integrity for short-term gain. I know him."
She sighed. "I believe in him too, but what troubles me is his marriage. He only married An to ease my mind. I don't know if he feels anything for her at all."
"Their marriage is their business," my father-in-law replied. "Neither you nor I can interfere. But anything built without substance will eventually need correction."
Her voice hardened. "Correction? What do you mean by that? I chose An myself. She has more dignity than that Diem Quynh girl ever could. Don't you dare try to divide them."
"Yes, yes, of course," he soothed quickly. "Rest, Mother. Everything will work out."
Sensing their conversation had run its course, I deliberately let my footsteps sound against the polished floor before knocking lightly.
"Come in," Grandmother called.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Good morning, Grandmother. Good morning, Father."
"An, my dear." Grandmother's face lit up. "So early—what brings you here? Missing me already?"
I smiled. "It's the weekend. I made some porridge for you."
"You sweet girl. Bring it here, let me see."
As I approached, my father-in-law excused himself, slipping past me without a word. I nodded politely, though he didn't return the gesture.
I set the container down, spooned porridge into a bowl, and carefully fed her a few bites. "Huy said you weren't feeling well?"
"Ah, it's just age. I don't have much time left, so every moment with you children is a blessing."
"Please don't say that. You'll make me sad. You need to stay well so you can keep telling me your love stories."
She chuckled softly. "Only you know how to cheer me up." Then her expression grew thoughtful. "An…"
"Yes?"
"Is Huy good to you?"
I forced a bright smile. "He's wonderful, Grandmother. Your grandson has no faults."
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me. If he ever hurts you, don't keep it inside. Tell me."
"No, truly, he hasn't," I answered honestly. "He's always respectful. He lets me live however I wish."
And that was true. He never gave me reason to complain. What Grandmother was really asking, though, was whether our marriage was real, whether there was love. And that… we both knew the answer to.
She clasped my hand gently. "I know you only married him because of me. It's unfair to you. But trust me, child, I haven't misjudged you."
My throat tightened. "Please don't worry. I feel happy just being your granddaughter-in-law. That alone is enough for me."
I meant it. I loved her sincerely. She was perhaps the only one who saw me without judgment, who accepted my ordinariness and still praised me, cherished me—more than even my own mother had.
"Don't mind Huy or his father's coldness," she said firmly. "He seems distant, but he takes care of everything. You'll see."
"Don't worry about us, Grandmother. Just focus on resting. I'll come sit with you whenever I'm free."
She gave a wistful sigh. "I only hope I live long enough to see the two of you give me a great-grandchild."
At that, I fell silent. Children were never part of my plan. And I doubted they were part of Huy's, either.
After sitting with her for a while, I excused myself so she could rest.
When I returned to the guest villa, I stopped short.
A young woman was standing in the courtyard, chatting with Ms. Xuan, the housekeeper.
The moment I stepped into view, Ms. Xuan called out right away.
"Ah, An, there you are. Miss Quynh is here asking for Mr. Huy. Do you know if he went to the office this morning?"
I offered a polite nod to the young woman beside her.
"Hello. I'm An, Huy's wife. Did you arrange an appointment with him?"
She smiled sweetly, shaking her head.
"No, I didn't. But since it's the weekend, I thought he'd be home instead of working. If not, I can just go greet Uncle instead."
I gestured toward the villa. "Why don't you come inside and wait? He should be back soon."
"Oh, no need," she replied quickly. "I'd like to pay my respects to Uncle anyway. By the way, my name is Diem Quynh. I'm a junior colleague of Huy's, but you can just call me Quynh. Our families have known each other for years."
"I see. In that case, go ahead and see my father-in-law. Ms. Xuan, please walk her over. I need to head inside for a bit."
The two of them left together, chatting easily, as though this wasn't their first meeting.
Grandmother's words from earlier echoed faintly in my mind: "She's better than Quynh."
So this was the girl she meant? The one tied to Huy's past, his so-called childhood companion?
The thought flickered through me, but I didn't dwell on it. Quynh's bearing spoke for itself—she was clearly from a wealthy family. Of course she was; anyone closely connected with Huy's family had to be. In elite circles, marriages between sons and daughters of powerful families were practically an unspoken rule. Such unions strengthened alliances, secured businesses, fortified entire empires.
That was why, even after three months as Huy's wife, I still didn't understand why Grandmother had insisted on choosing me. And even more baffling—why Huy himself had agreed.
I remembered asking him once. His response had been steady, almost indifferent.
"At least you're someone I already know. Saves the time of starting from scratch."
"So that's the reason."
It was true. For all that we came from worlds that should never have intersected, Huy and I had known each other once, long ago.
And suddenly, the memory pulled me back. To the days just a few months ago, when I was still restless, reckless, drowning in boredom and despair.
That was when he appeared.