Lanh Thien Phong's hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Ha An Nhien stood frozen, her heart pounding. Madame Lanh, Lam Uyen Nhu, was alive? What did that even mean? Lanh Thien Phong's entire revenge plan, her own captivity—was it all based on a horrifying misconception?
Ha An Nhien couldn't stay still. She ran after Lanh Thien Phong, her legs threatening to give out. When she reached the main door, the sight before her stunned her. A woman stood there, her hair streaked with silver but her face still bearing the delicate features from the old photograph. She wore a simple outfit, her eyes tired but resolute. Housekeeper Lee stood nearby, trembling.
Lanh Thien Phong stood opposite her, his face ashen, his eyes darkened. "Mother...?" His voice trembled, a rare vulnerability showing through.
Madame Lam Uyen Nhu looked at him, a bitter smile faintly curving her lips. "Thien Phong. You've grown so much."
The air was taut with tension. Ha An Nhien sensed the extreme turmoil in Lanh Thien Phong's eyes—shock, anguish, and a fragile flicker of hope that flared and died.
"Why...? Where have you been all these years?" Lanh Thien Phong snarled, his earlier tenderness vanishing, replaced by intense anger and resentment. "Do you know what I've done for revenge? Do you know how I've lived?!"
Madame Lam Uyen Nhu sighed, her gaze sweeping over Ha An Nhien, lingering for a moment with a significant look. "My son. There are secrets that cannot be spoken. I did what I did... to protect you."
"Protect me?! By letting me believe you were dead, by letting me live in hatred, by letting me become a cold-blooded monster?!" Lanh Thien Phong roared, the pain he had suppressed for so long erupting.
Ha An Nhien stood huddled in a corner, feeling like an outsider in this family tragedy. But she couldn't leave. She needed to know the truth.
After a heated argument, Lanh Thien Phong led his mother into the living room, instructing Housekeeper Lee not to disturb them. Ha An Nhien didn't leave; she listened to every sound, every snippet of conversation. Finally, unable to contain her curiosity, she crept closer, hiding behind the slightly ajar door.
Madame Lam Uyen Nhu's voice was low, recounting a story Ha An Nhien could never have imagined. The fire all those years ago was not caused by Tran Gia Minh. The real mastermind behind it was Lanh Thien Phong's paternal uncle, Lanh Kinh Thien, who had conspired with Tran Gia Minh to seize their family's assets. Madame Lam Uyen Nhu had discovered the plot and faked her death to protect Lanh Thien Phong from Lanh Kinh Thien's relentless pursuit—a man who was then even more powerful than Tran Gia Minh, and who had wanted to kill both mother and son.
"I had to flee, cut off all contact, so he would believe I was dead. Only then would he stop hunting you," Madame Lam Uyen Nhu said, her voice filled with bitterness. "I had to hide in a remote place, live a different life, waiting for the day you were strong enough to protect yourself."
Lanh Thien Phong listened in silence, his shoulders trembling. This brutal truth was more painful than any hatred. He had avenged the wrong person, ruined his life for an incorrect enemy, and more importantly, lived in isolation and coldness for a mother who was still alive and loved him in her own way.
Ha An Nhien stood behind the door, tears streaming down her face. Lanh Thien Phong's pain seemed to cut through the air, reaching her heart. She realized that hatred had shaped his life, turning him into a cold, cruel man, only to protect himself and seek revenge for a tragedy he himself didn't fully comprehend.
Lanh Thien Phong suddenly stood up, walking to the window, staring out into the night. Ha An Nhien feared he would discover her, but he seemed oblivious. "So... what I've done... it was all meaningless?" His voice was hoarse, filled with despair.
"No, my son," Madame Lam Uyen Nhu said, rising and embracing him from behind. "You have become a strong man, capable of protecting yourself. That is all I ever wanted. Furthermore, you have inadvertently eliminated one of his accomplices."
He turned, looking at his mother, then his gaze swept past the slightly ajar door and settled on Ha An Nhien. His eyes were utterly complex—shock, pain, and something else undefinable, but not anger.
"You... you heard everything?" he asked, his voice low, yet devoid of any menace.
Ha An Nhien stepped out, her eyes swollen. "Yes."
Lanh Thien Phong said nothing, simply stared at her. In that moment, Ha An Nhien felt a profound connection between them. He was no longer the "devil" who only knew possession, and she was no longer the "victim" who only knew hatred. Both were wounded souls, caught in a whirlwind of tragedy and misunderstanding.
Madame Lam Uyen Nhu looked at Ha An Nhien, then turned back to Lanh Thien Phong. "Who is this, Thien Phong?" Her voice was gentle, filled with curiosity.
Lanh Thien Phong didn't answer immediately. He looked at Ha An Nhien, his complex gaze slowly transforming into something frighteningly resolute. "She... she is mine."
That answer no longer carried the meaning of possessing an object, but was a declaration, a confession of a twisted, chaotic, yet undeniable feeling that had blossomed. Ha An Nhien flinched. On this fateful night, when all secrets were laid bare, when he realized he had sought revenge on the wrong person, he reaffirmed that she was his in a deeper sense.