"I beg you, take this little one and go—don't let them catch him, he's too young…" The man's lips had gone papery white; his pleas trailed off into a whisper. "I beg you."
Đông Anh watched the blood seeping from the man's belly with mounting worry. He swept his eyes across the blind alley, hoping to spot something—anything—that might help stop the bleeding. But at this chaotic hour, most houses were shuttered and silent. The man gripped Đông Anh's hand, urgent:
"Take the child, please! Bring him to—"
"Đông Anh!"
The man's words were cut off and Đông Anh froze. He knew someone had come up behind him; whether friend or foe he couldn't tell, but the terrifying thing was the newcomer recognized him. Đông Anh touched the fake beard still stuck to his lip, then carefully turned his head to look.
The third man paused when he saw Đông Anh's bearded face. But Đông Anh's disguise was lousy — after a single frown the man reached out and ripped the fake beard off.
"Đông Anh."
"Hiền."
"What are you doing here?" Hiền asked, glancing at the child and the blood-soaked man collapsed on the ground.
"So it wasn't my imagination. I saw someone like you and ran down to check, and… I found them, so… I wanted to help."
"Do you know who they are?" Hiền roughly pulled Đông Anh away from the child.
"No."
"They're surely people being hunted. Don't get mixed up in this."
"No!" Đông Anh said firmly. He looked at the man gasping on the road.
"Please save the child!" the man begged.
"Where do you want me to take him?" Đông Anh asked.
"To Ông Kiệu's riverside landing—give him to some relatives there…"
Đông Anh scooped up the child, and Hiền caught him mid-reach.
"Đông Anh, this is dangerous. The consequences are huge."
"But I can't stand by and watch them die, whoever they are."
"Đông Anh, I know you're kind-hearted, but if you get arrested, no one will save you."
Đông Anh fell silent, thinking, then asked, "Hiền, then tell me — why do you keep protesting when you know they'll arrest you?"
"I—" Hiền faltered, knowing he couldn't persuade Đông Anh.
"You have your righteous ideals, I have mine. I can't let them die in front of me."
"Don't try to save me—just take the child. Hurry, the police are coming!"
The man managed to pull himself up and shoved the child toward Đông Anh. Đông Anh held the baby and looked at Hiền pleadingly. "Can you help him stop the bleeding?"
Hiền didn't answer; his eyes were fixed on the child. Then he reached out, touched the child, hesitated a beat, and resumed fumbling as if searching the child for something. The baby startled and began to whimper.
"Don't cry, be good—I will take you out for a walk," Đông Anh soothed, glancing down the alley, on the alert.
"No, I'll take him."
"Huh?"
"I don't know how to stop bleeding, so you stay and tend to him." Hiền jerked his chin at the wounded man.
"What are you—"
"I'm a righteous person, too," Hiền said. In truth, he didn't want Đông Anh to carry the child because he suspected the child was hiding secret documents or other dangerous items. If someone unfamiliar with the streets like Đông Anh took the child, they'd surely get caught.
"Alright… thank you. Be careful!"
"Đông Anh, listen to me. Put your fake beard back on—don't show your face to anyone. As for that man, he's badly hurt. There's no hope. Don't risk it. Go back to the Red Pavilion now!"
With that, Hiền picked up the child and melted into the night.
Only Đông Anh remained. He forced the wounded man to lean against a corner wall, tore off his own outer coat and tried to bind the wound to stop the bleeding.
"If I leave him out here, he'll die for sure," Đông Anh thought, glancing at the shuttered windows around them. "Lord, please help me save this man."
As if by a miracle, right after his prayer he heard a metal gate slide open. A bright light spilled from inside the house and a girl's silhouette appeared like an angel haloed in light.
"Mr. Út, bring him in here, quick!"
Đông Anh squinted and then brightened: "Thiên Thanh…"
.
God had just cast a miracle down to shield a miserable life.
"Thank God." Đông Anh smiled as he hurried back toward the Red Pavilion. The street had settled; the blaze had died out. He felt some relief. "Tonight the Lord will watch over me," he told himself. He paced, looking at his hurried long strides until other feet stopped in front of him. He lifted his head and a flashlight was shoved straight into his face, making him flinch and turn away.
"Stand still, papers check."
Đông Anh went cold, torn between running and submitting. "He pressed his fake beard tighter against his skin, and recoiled in horror when he saw his hands smeared with blood. "Lord, will you protect me this time too?"
High heels thudded on the pavement, then a woman's voice called out: "Đông Anh!"
It was a woman all right, but the voice had nothing angelic about it.
"Oh my God, thank you lads for finding him. Út, you've been up to no good!" Ms. Tư shoved forward, launching into a tirade. "How dare you pull this stunt and not even have the nerve to face me?"
She stepped in front of Đông Anh, who stood frozen, his bloodied hands rigid at his chest.
"My God!" Ms. Tư fumed, slapping him repeatedly with her coat. When she'd vented, she tossed the coat at him. Only then did Đông Anh understand what she was doing. He snatched the coat to hide his hands. At his ear Ms. Tư shrieked:
"I can't believe you'd lie to me and run off to a filthy place like this. You're just a kid, and already playing Casanova? Come home! I'll tell dad and mom what you did."
She tried to drag her little brother away, but the three patrolmen wouldn't let her.
"Ms. Tư, we have to inspect this person."
"My goodness, this is Út—Mr. Liễu's son. What more inspection do you need?" Ms. Tư crowed.
The three patrolmen stared at Đông Anh but didn't move.
"It's awkward to admit, but this is the Kim family's dirty laundry. If word gets out that my brother turned up in this dump, it'll be a scandal. So we hope the three of you will look the other way. The Kim family will repay you handsomely."
"Ms. Tư, it's not that we want to trouble you. But there's official business in the area tonight; we must follow procedure. We'll only check briefly. If Mr. Út isn't involved, he'll be free to go right after."
Under the coat, Đông Anh nervously rubbed his bloodstained hands together. Even loud-mouthed Ms. Tư was out of tricks this time.
"Ms. Tư, Út."
Đông Anh let out a breath when he saw Dung appear.
Smack!
The moment Dung stepped close, Ms. Tư slapped him square across the face.
"You've got some nerve—dragging Út into this filthy den of vice. My dad pays you to guard him, not to corrupt him!"
Dung clutched his stinging cheek, eyes locked on her. But in the end he bowed his head.
"I'm sorry."
"Then clean up this mess yourself!"
With that, Ms. Tư grabbed her brother's sleeve and hauled him off. The soldiers started to intervene, but when Dung moved to block the way, they backed down.
"Looks like this Dung Tây's name carries weight—enough to make even patrolmen step aside." Thinking grimly and still clutching her brother, Ms. Tư slipped into the car, escaping death by a whisker.
.
"Stop it, you're hurting me! I can wash my own hands," Đông Anh protested, pulling away. His palms were red raw from Ms. Tư's long nails scraping at him under the tap.
"And you still dare raise your voice to me…"
"Don't shout—people are asleep," he whispered, noticing his sister bristle.
"I'm still shaking, Út," Ms. Tư hissed. "If I hadn't shown up in time, do you even know what kind of trouble you'd be in? Sometimes I wonder if you're really blood of the Kim family—your head's so damn empty."
Her cruel words bounced off the tiled walls of the private bath inside Đông Anh's room.
"I'm sorry," Đông Anh said, and meant it.
"Scrub those filthy hands clean. I don't want to see or smell that stench of blood ever again!" Ms. Tư snapped before storming out.
Đông Anh resolved to keep washing until his sister lost patience and left. But no such luck—one glance at her shadow waiting like a thundercloud on the sofa told him he wasn't escaping tonight. Not until he gave her some proper explanation.
Then came a knock at the door, and Dung's gentle voice:
"Út, are you in there?"
Đông Anh shut off the tap and hurried to open.
"Út!"
Dung's voice was tender, but his arms urgent, dragging the boy against his chest. His lips pressed a kiss to Đông Anh's forehead—so boldly that he hadn't even stepped both feet into the room.
"Dung!"