The banh lot was already prepared; all it needed was a bit of dipping sauce and a sprinkle of spring onions, and it was ready to eat.
Khang stood beside me, a craving look in his eyes.
"Quietly," I said: "don't wake grandpa."
He nodded obediently, picked up a bowl, and squatted by the stove to eat. The red sauce clinging to his lips made them look even pinker and fuller.
I shifted my gaze from him, also taking a bowl and squatting beside him to eat. The chilled banh lot was both crisp and savory, incredibly appetizing.
When Khang finished, he smiled shyly at me: "Another bowl."
"It's late. Eating too much will upset your stomach. If you like it, you can have more tomorrow." Afraid he would get a stomachache during the night, I didn't dare let him eat too much.
Khang blinked, reluctantly putting the bowl down, and said sullenly: "Alright then."
...
After a short sleep, the sky was already dim with dawn. There was no time to rest comfortably yet; we had to quickly transport the food supplies to them.
Downstairs, Khang had already finished packing up.
Seeing me come down, he said: "Why don't you sleep a little longer? You were so tired last night, and it's still early. Fat Bang isn't here yet."
"I'm not tired, I'm used to it and can't sleep in. I'll go make breakfast." I turned to head for the kitchen.
Khang quickly pulled me back, a mischievous grin on his face: "I've watched you cook many times. This time, try something I made."
Khang brought out the prepared banh lot.
I smiled: "With pleasure."
We cut some branches to cover the food sacks as camouflage. The mountain roads were rough and unstable; a truck full of rice passing through several villages without being on high alert was no different from a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.
Throughout the journey, the three of us didn't dare to rest, fearing that a moment of carelessness would lead to us being robbed. The tension lasted the entire way, and it wasn't until we saw the gas station at the edge of town that the few of us could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
The road into the city was unobstructed. Vu's unit was stationed on the outskirts, so it wasn't hard to find.
The young soldier guarding the camp gate saw our truck approaching and gave a signal, and the iron gate opened. There were quite a few young soldiers standing outside the gate. We couldn't see Vu, only Luong, who, seeing us from a distance, grinned from ear to ear.
After parking the truck in the warehouse, a few young soldiers jumped onto the truck bed. Their eyes lit up at the sight of the large sacks of rice. Everyone rolled up their sleeves to haul the sacks, dripping with sweat but not seeming tired at all.
For lunch, the mess hall had cooked white rice. The pearly white, plump grains were mixed with a few corn kernels, and the fragrant aroma filled the air. This rice alone, even without any side dishes, was enough for one to wolf down several large bowls.
I had brought cabbage, potatoes, and glass noodles, which the army cooks had made into a gigantic pot of mixed soup. Even though there was hardly any oil, everyone ate with great joy.
It was very quiet during the meal, with only the sound of bowls and chopsticks clinking. Occasionally, a few children's voices could be heard, but they were quickly led outside by the adults.
Khang took a small iron basin and ran to the kitchen to get his own food. When he returned, his expression was very heavy.
He looked at me and said: "There's still more than half a pot of soup in the iron pot, but all the broth has been ladled out. I thought there was little rice left, but it turns out there's still half a pot."
I knew he wanted to ask why people weren't eating. Seeing his unhappiness, I patiently explained:
"They're used to being hungry. It's normal that they don't dare to eat until they're completely full right away. If they eat a little less this meal, there will still be something to eat for the next one."
Khang shoveled a large mouthful of rice into his mouth. He had also experienced hunger, so he understood without needing further explanation.
Luong and Fat Bang had gone somewhere; they were nowhere to be seen at mealtime. Khang and I ate late, so there weren't many people left in the mess hall, just a few scattered soldiers on shift change.
With nothing to do, the two of us sat there after eating to wait for Fat Bang. With grandpa and the kids at home, I couldn't rest easy. We had to go back after Fat Bang finished eating, even if it meant traveling at night.
This mess hall used to be a school cafeteria, so it was very convenient, spacious, and well-ventilated. Despite the heat, there were no strange smells.
The afternoon was sweltering, making one very sleepy. Khang propped his chin on one hand, his head nodding with drowsiness. I looked at his sleepy, worn-out appearance as he tried to stay awake, unable to even open his eyes while talking, and found it amusing.
I took off my jacket and placed it under the table for him. Khang mumbled a few inaudible words, then readily laid his arms on the table and fell asleep.
The mess hall was incredibly quiet. Outside, under the scorching sun, there wasn't even the chirp of a bird. The school was located near a mountainous area. For nearly half a year, it had been baked by the searing heat, and many trees on the mountain couldn't withstand it and had died. The dry earth had cracked into large fissures, wild vegetables had long been dug up by people, and what little remained had been scorched dry by the sun. The entire mountain looked dead, devoid of any sign of life.
Khang only managed to nap for a short while. Fat Bang's booming voice echoed into the mess hall from the doorway.
Luong was with him. The two of them went to the counter to get their rice and food, then walked towards where we were sitting. By this time, Khang had also woken up, looking much more alert.
Fat Bang pulled out a chair and winked at me: "Guess who I just met?"
Knowing his tendency for theatrics, I played along and put on a curious expression. Seeing me go along with it, Khang rolled his eyes disdainfully, refusing to join in.
I smiled and said: "I can't guess, what's up?"
Luong also sat down, greeted Khang and me, then buried his head in his food, unusually silent.
Fat Bang continued enthusiastically: "I guarantee you'll never guess this one. It's that guy Tran Van Khe, your uncle's son. That kid looks scholarly and gentle, but in a fight, he doesn't hold back at all."