A few days later, at the launch event for the company's new product, Bach Lan appeared alongside Trach Hien as a guest. He didn't make anything public, but the way their eyes met made several people whisper quietly.
Bach Lan wore a soft blue dress, her hand brushing lightly against his arm almost instinctively.
Trach Dong arrived at that exact moment.
He froze for a few seconds, his gaze falling on her hand resting against Trach Hien's. He said nothing, just walked slowly toward them.
"You're here?" – His voice was low, steady, carrying weight.
Bach Lan blinked, slightly surprised, but remained polite: "Yes. I came with Mr. Trach Hien."
Trach Dong turned to look at Trach Hien, his eyes dark and complex.
"I don't recall approving the PR department to attend this event."
Trach Hien smiled, calm as flowing water.
"She isn't here as an employee. She's my guest."
The air seemed to pause. A few nearby guests stole glances at them, sensing a tension that wasn't quite visible but impossible to ignore.
Trach Dong looked at Bach Lan, his voice dropping: "You should know where it's proper to appear. Unnecessary rumors only bring trouble."
Trach Hien's lips curved slightly into a smile, cutting in softly: "If you truly care for her, you should learn to make her feel safe, instead of always giving orders that make her step back."
Bach Lan froze, her eyes flicking between the two men facing each other.
One stood still, cold to the point of suffocation.
The other was gentle, protective, shielding her without hesitation.
Her heart skipped a beat, racing in a way that made her feel both restless and strangely certain. She didn't know where this feeling would lead her, but in that instant, a quiet choice was taking shape.
Trach Dong said nothing.
His gaze lingered for a moment on Bach Lan's face. She did not flinch, yet the hesitation that always surfaced in their encounters was gone. Standing beside Trach Hien, she seemed calm, grounded, as if she were exactly where she belonged.
Trach Dong's fingers tightened slightly. His thumb brushed the edge of his wristwatch, clinging to the only anchor keeping him from reacting impulsively. His chest felt taut and rigid.
She was standing next to him. That person, Trach Hien, appeared to be using her as a quiet provocation. And Trach Dong knew it, yet he could do nothing.
Trach Hien smiled gently, turning toward Bach Lan with an ease that carried warmth without pressure.
"Do you want to stay?" – He asked softly, just enough for her to hear.
Bach Lan hesitated for a moment.
Her eyes flickered toward Trach Dong, as if searching for something from him—a word to hold her, a sign of trust, a trace of reassurance.
But Trach Dong remained silent, simply tightening his grip. He was not good at showing feelings, and more than that, he was afraid... afraid that if he spoke, she would turn away right there.
After a moment, Trach Hien placed his hand on her back, gentle enough to respect boundaries, yet just firm enough to signal an unspoken closeness.
"Let's go inside." – He said softly. – "Standing here too long, you'll catch a chill."
Bach Lan nodded lightly.
They walked away, leaving Trach Dong standing alone in the grand lobby, bathed in warm golden light.
His chest felt heavy, as if weighted with stone.
No one could see, but the slight tightening of his lips revealed the tension of a man struggling to contain a wave of blind jealousy.
He hated this feeling.
He hated letting her slip from his reach, hated the constant, comfortable presence of Trach Hien around her, and hated himself, the man who could only stand there, rigid as stone, unsure how to hold onto the woman he loved.
The music flowed steadily through the grand hall, mingling with the clinking of glasses and endless polite greetings.
Bach Lan stood by the buffet table, holding a glass of strawberry juice. Trach Hien had just leaned close to whisper something, then excused himself to step outside and take a call from a European client.
She nodded, smiled, and watched his figure disappear from the lobby. The golden light brushed against his vest, highlighting the crisp, orderly lines of his attire.
She exhaled softly.
The party air was thick with the scent of wine, the warm glow of the chandeliers reflecting off every evening gown. She slightly tilted her body to avoid the fixed gaze of a middle-aged man approaching her. He was one of the major partners from the southern branch. His smile seemed friendly, but his eyes roamed her body in an impolite sweep.
"You're from PR, right? I happened to see you at the office last time. Not only are you smart, but you have great taste in clothes too." – He said with a teasing tone.
It wasn't loud, yet it sent a shiver down Bach Lan's spine.
She forced a polite smile: "Yes, thank you, sir."
He moved closer, brushing hands and legs against her, voice playful: "Well now! So young and appealing, surely you're favored by the big bosses. Just like me, I'd like to 'get to know' your PR department better."
He edged nearer, the strong scent of alcohol hitting her. A hand raised, brushing too close to her waist, a bold, inappropriate move in the midst of a formal diplomatic event.
Bach Lan immediately stepped back. Her face remained calm, but her lips pressed together sharply. She opened her mouth to cut him off when suddenly...
A cold, firm hand grabbed the man's wrist.
"I think you should return to your seat."
The voice was low, not loud, but enough to freeze the space around them.
Trach Dong.
His eyes were cold as ice, without a flicker of emotion. His hand held the man's wrist, not tightly, yet enough to make him frozen in place.
"I don't recall this party including close contact with female employees."
The words seemed gentle, but their weight hit the floor like a boulder.
The man stammered, forcing a laugh: "Just a little joke, Director Trach."
"I don't find it funny."
Trach Dong interrupted sharply. He released the man's wrist, pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and wiped his fingers as if they had touched something filthy. Then he turned to Bach Lan.
"Are you okay?"
Bach Lan nodded, her body trembling slightly. Yet when her eyes met his, there was something in them that made her feel unbearably safe.
After the man bowed awkwardly and retreated, Trach Dong stayed where he was, silent, only gently taking her glass and replacing it with a fresh one from the nearby tray.
Bach Lan held the new glass, her hand still shaking.
"Thank you." – She said softly.
He didn't reply, only gave a slight nod. His tall, straight back exuded a presence that was at once distant and warm.
They looked at each other.
No words were exchanged. Only the crystal lights reflected in Trach Dong's eyes, shimmering like a lake rippling under a restless wind.
The party around them buzzed with laughter and chatter, but in the corner where they stood, a quiet mist seemed to settle, separating them from the noise.
Trach Hien stepped forward, moving calmly as if nothing had happened. He stood beside Bach Lan, glancing at the glass in her hand before slowly resting a hand on the back of her chair, an almost casual gesture that seemed to shield her.
"Are you okay?" – He asked gently, his voice soft, neither hurried nor distant.
Bach Lan forced a small smile: "Yes, just standing for a moment."
Trach Hien didn't reply immediately. His eyes flicked briefly to her hand. It was still that delicate hand, yet she seemed to grip the glass just a little tighter, a subtle signal, tiny but not escaping his notice.
He bowed his head slightly and poured her some water, a familiar, intimate gesture shared between people who had grown close.
"I've just had a string of calls from major partners. I hope you're not bored standing here alone." – He said softly, the words carrying the polished ease of a careful, considerate man.
Yet when his gaze swept past Trach Dong, a sharp glint flashed for an instant, too quick to catch fully.
Bach Lan shook her head: "I'm fine."
Trach Dong remained there, leaning slightly, his eyes fixed on the untouched glass of wine.
"If you feel uncomfortable, you can leave at any time." – He said quietly, not loud, but enough for those nearby to glance over.
Bach Lan felt a flicker of unease, about to respond, when Trach Hien stepped forward a beat ahead.
"You always make others feel unwelcome. Perhaps that's why few want to stay close to you for long." – Trach Hien said.
Trach Dong didn't retort. His gaze met his younger brother's, then shifted to her. No anger, no tension, only a silent ripple under the surface.
Bach Lan looked between the two men and felt the space around her shrink, thick with an unspoken pressure.
"I'm sorry, I'll just go grab some cake." – She said softly, as if carving a path out of the invisible suffocation.
Trach Hien didn't stop her. But the moment she walked away, his gaze deepened, draping over the space around him like a cold mist.
"You've never really known how to love someone, have you?" – He murmured, not waiting for an answer.
Trach Dong stayed silent, his fingers tightening briefly around the glass before letting go.
He didn't blame her. Yet the sensation of being left behind pricked at him sharply, like a needle pressing slowly into the palm of his hand, silently piercing, inch by inch.
From a distance, Bach Lan glanced back. The two of them, one cold as night, one warm as afternoon tea, both held words unspoken, lingering like shadows between them.
© Note: When The Heart Remembers – Copyright belongs to Zieny. Any copying, editing, or reuploading in any form without permission is strictly prohibited. Violators will be prosecuted according to the law.A few days later, at the launch event for the company's new product, Bach Lan appeared alongside Trach Hien as a guest. He didn't make anything public, but the way their eyes met made several people whisper quietly.
Bach Lan wore a soft blue dress, her hand brushing lightly against his arm almost instinctively.
Trach Dong arrived at that exact moment.
He froze for a few seconds, his gaze falling on her hand resting against Trach Hien's. He said nothing, just walked slowly toward them.
"You're here?" – His voice was low, steady, carrying weight.
Bach Lan blinked, slightly surprised, but remained polite: "Yes. I came with Mr. Trach Hien."
Trach Dong turned to look at Trach Hien, his eyes dark and complex.
"I don't recall approving the PR department to attend this event."
Trach Hien smiled, calm as flowing water.
"She isn't here as an employee. She's my guest."
The air seemed to pause. A few nearby guests stole glances at them, sensing a tension that wasn't quite visible but impossible to ignore.
Trach Dong looked at Bach Lan, his voice dropping: "You should know where it's proper to appear. Unnecessary rumors only bring trouble."
Trach Hien's lips curved slightly into a smile, cutting in softly: "If you truly care for her, you should learn to make her feel safe, instead of always giving orders that make her step back."
Bach Lan froze, her eyes flicking between the two men facing each other.
One stood still, cold to the point of suffocation.
The other was gentle, protective, shielding her without hesitation.
Her heart skipped a beat, racing in a way that made her feel both restless and strangely certain. She didn't know where this feeling would lead her, but in that instant, a quiet choice was taking shape.
Trach Dong said nothing.
His gaze lingered for a moment on Bach Lan's face. She did not flinch, yet the hesitation that always surfaced in their encounters was gone. Standing beside Trach Hien, she seemed calm, grounded, as if she were exactly where she belonged.
Trach Dong's fingers tightened slightly. His thumb brushed the edge of his wristwatch, clinging to the only anchor keeping him from reacting impulsively. His chest felt taut and rigid.
She was standing next to him. That person, Trach Hien, appeared to be using her as a quiet provocation. And Trach Dong knew it, yet he could do nothing.
Trach Hien smiled gently, turning toward Bach Lan with an ease that carried warmth without pressure.
"Do you want to stay?" – He asked softly, just enough for her to hear.
Bach Lan hesitated for a moment.
Her eyes flickered toward Trach Dong, as if searching for something from him—a word to hold her, a sign of trust, a trace of reassurance.
But Trach Dong remained silent, simply tightening his grip. He was not good at showing feelings, and more than that, he was afraid... afraid that if he spoke, she would turn away right there.
After a moment, Trach Hien placed his hand on her back, gentle enough to respect boundaries, yet just firm enough to signal an unspoken closeness.
"Let's go inside." – He said softly. – "Standing here too long, you'll catch a chill."
Bach Lan nodded lightly.
They walked away, leaving Trach Dong standing alone in the grand lobby, bathed in warm golden light.
His chest felt heavy, as if weighted with stone.
No one could see, but the slight tightening of his lips revealed the tension of a man struggling to contain a wave of blind jealousy.
He hated this feeling.
He hated letting her slip from his reach, hated the constant, comfortable presence of Trach Hien around her, and hated himself, the man who could only stand there, rigid as stone, unsure how to hold onto the woman he loved.
The music flowed steadily through the grand hall, mingling with the clinking of glasses and endless polite greetings.
Bach Lan stood by the buffet table, holding a glass of strawberry juice. Trach Hien had just leaned close to whisper something, then excused himself to step outside and take a call from a European client.
She nodded, smiled, and watched his figure disappear from the lobby. The golden light brushed against his vest, highlighting the crisp, orderly lines of his attire.
She exhaled softly.
The party air was thick with the scent of wine, the warm glow of the chandeliers reflecting off every evening gown. She slightly tilted her body to avoid the fixed gaze of a middle-aged man approaching her. He was one of the major partners from the southern branch. His smile seemed friendly, but his eyes roamed her body in an impolite sweep.
"You're from PR, right? I happened to see you at the office last time. Not only are you smart, but you have great taste in clothes too." – He said with a teasing tone.
It wasn't loud, yet it sent a shiver down Bach Lan's spine.
She forced a polite smile: "Yes, thank you, sir."
He moved closer, brushing hands and legs against her, voice playful: "Well now! So young and appealing, surely you're favored by the big bosses. Just like me, I'd like to 'get to know' your PR department better."
He edged nearer, the strong scent of alcohol hitting her. A hand raised, brushing too close to her waist, a bold, inappropriate move in the midst of a formal diplomatic event.
Bach Lan immediately stepped back. Her face remained calm, but her lips pressed together sharply. She opened her mouth to cut him off when suddenly...
A cold, firm hand grabbed the man's wrist.
"I think you should return to your seat."
The voice was low, not loud, but enough to freeze the space around them.
Trach Dong.
His eyes were cold as ice, without a flicker of emotion. His hand held the man's wrist, not tightly, yet enough to make him frozen in place.
"I don't recall this party including close contact with female employees."
The words seemed gentle, but their weight hit the floor like a boulder.
The man stammered, forcing a laugh: "Just a little joke, Director Trach."
"I don't find it funny."
Trach Dong interrupted sharply. He released the man's wrist, pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and wiped his fingers as if they had touched something filthy. Then he turned to Bach Lan.
"Are you okay?"
Bach Lan nodded, her body trembling slightly. Yet when her eyes met his, there was something in them that made her feel unbearably safe.
After the man bowed awkwardly and retreated, Trach Dong stayed where he was, silent, only gently taking her glass and replacing it with a fresh one from the nearby tray.
Bach Lan held the new glass, her hand still shaking.
"Thank you." – She said softly.
He didn't reply, only gave a slight nod. His tall, straight back exuded a presence that was at once distant and warm.
They looked at each other.
No words were exchanged. Only the crystal lights reflected in Trach Dong's eyes, shimmering like a lake rippling under a restless wind.
The party around them buzzed with laughter and chatter, but in the corner where they stood, a quiet mist seemed to settle, separating them from the noise.
Trach Hien stepped forward, moving calmly as if nothing had happened. He stood beside Bach Lan, glancing at the glass in her hand before slowly resting a hand on the back of her chair, an almost casual gesture that seemed to shield her.
"Are you okay?" – He asked gently, his voice soft, neither hurried nor distant.
Bach Lan forced a small smile: "Yes, just standing for a moment."
Trach Hien didn't reply immediately. His eyes flicked briefly to her hand. It was still that delicate hand, yet she seemed to grip the glass just a little tighter, a subtle signal, tiny but not escaping his notice.
He bowed his head slightly and poured her some water, a familiar, intimate gesture shared between people who had grown close.
"I've just had a string of calls from major partners. I hope you're not bored standing here alone." – He said softly, the words carrying the polished ease of a careful, considerate man.
Yet when his gaze swept past Trach Dong, a sharp glint flashed for an instant, too quick to catch fully.
Bach Lan shook her head: "I'm fine."
Trach Dong remained there, leaning slightly, his eyes fixed on the untouched glass of wine.
"If you feel uncomfortable, you can leave at any time." – He said quietly, not loud, but enough for those nearby to glance over.
Bach Lan felt a flicker of unease, about to respond, when Trach Hien stepped forward a beat ahead.
"You always make others feel unwelcome. Perhaps that's why few want to stay close to you for long." – Trach Hien said.
Trach Dong didn't retort. His gaze met his younger brother's, then shifted to her. No anger, no tension, only a silent ripple under the surface.
Bach Lan looked between the two men and felt the space around her shrink, thick with an unspoken pressure.
"I'm sorry, I'll just go grab some cake." – She said softly, as if carving a path out of the invisible suffocation.
Trach Hien didn't stop her. But the moment she walked away, his gaze deepened, draping over the space around him like a cold mist.
"You've never really known how to love someone, have you?" – He murmured, not waiting for an answer.
Trach Dong stayed silent, his fingers tightening briefly around the glass before letting go.
He didn't blame her. Yet the sensation of being left behind pricked at him sharply, like a needle pressing slowly into the palm of his hand, silently piercing, inch by inch.
From a distance, Bach Lan glanced back. The two of them, one cold as night, one warm as afternoon tea, both held words unspoken, lingering like shadows between them.
© Note: When The Heart Remembers – Copyright belongs to Zieny. Any copying, editing, or reuploading in any form without permission is strictly prohibited. Violators will be prosecuted according to the law.