Chapter 6

The next morning, Old Tu returned to the rental block with one arm hanging in a sling across his chest.

The accident was considered settled.

A strange driver came to admit fault, bowing his head and apologizing over and over, saying he had panicked too badly last night and fled. He handed Old Tu a thick envelope.

One hundred million.

Old Tu held the money, his eyes a little blank.

In his whole life, he had never taken one painful hit and gotten that much money out of it. His shoulder still ached, his hip still throbbed, but looking at that stiff new stack of bills, he felt it was worth it.

The tenants crowded around to ask after him. He snapped:

“Ain’t dead yet. Ask less.”

He said that, but his eyes kept watching the gate.

Hoang did not come back until almost noon.

His shirt was a little wrinkled, his face a little tired, but his voice was still gentle as usual.

“You’re back, Uncle?”

Old Tu jumped up, forgetting the pain.

“How did it go?”

Hoang sat down and poured himself a glass of water.

“It’s fine, Uncle.”

Old Tu let out a breath.

“Good. Tell Teacher Lan, so she won’t be scared anymore.”

Hoang shook his head.

“No need yet.”

Old Tu stared.

“Why?”

“Let me watch a little more. You rest your arm first.”

Old Tu looked at Hoang. He did not really understand, but he did not ask more.

Since this kid had come to the rental block, whatever he said worked out. If he said wait, Old Tu waited.

Old Tu stuffed the envelope into the iron box under the bed, then cursed under his breath:

“Fuck. Old already and still getting scared by a car.”

Hoang smiled.

“You’re still strong, Uncle.”

“Strong, my ass.”

The rental block returned to its usual rhythm.

Mai went to work.

Thao worked the night shift.

Quynh slept all day and only crawled out at night.

Lan still went up and down as usual, but her face was paler than before. Her two children still ran down to the yard to play with Hoang. Sometimes they climbed onto Old Tu’s lap, making him hurt and curse at the same time.

“Don’t touch my arm. My arm just got bitten by a car.”

The children laughed loudly.

Lan stood on the stairs looking down, forcing herself to smile with them. But her smile was very thin. Like wet paper. Touch it hard and it tore.

A few days later, just as the sky was getting dark, Hoang hurried into Old Tu’s room.

“Uncle Tu.”

Old Tu was rubbing medicated oil onto his sore shoulder.

“What?”

“Tonight, call Teacher Lan down to teach you.”

Old Tu grimaced.

“Study letters again?”

“Yes.”

“My arm still hurts.”

“Just sit and listen. That’s fine too.”

Old Tu looked at Hoang.

“Why make me study all of a sudden?”

Hoang lowered his voice.

“I think Teacher Lan isn’t right. Her face looks very different. Something probably happened again.”

Old Tu looked up toward the upper floor.

“That student again?”

Hoang did not answer directly.

“Just call her down. Keep her downstairs for a while. I’ll go up and get a few things for the two kids.”

Old Tu nodded.

“Yeah. I’ll call her.”

He did not think much.

There was only one thing in his head: Teacher Lan was a decent woman, with two small children, and that rotten bastard kept clinging to her. If Hoang said this could help her, then he would do it.

That night, Old Tu stood under the stairs and called loudly:

“Teacher Lan!”

A little while later, the door upstairs opened.

Lan poked her face out.

“Yes, Uncle?”

“Come down and teach me some documents.”

Lan paused.

“Right now, Uncle? I thought you already knew how to read.”

“You, girl. You promised already. My arm hurts, and sitting around is boring. Come down and teach me about contracts and rights.”

Lan looked at the clock. Worry flickered across her face.

“I ... I’ll teach you just a little, okay? I have something tonight.”

“Yeah, a little is fine.”

Lan took her notebook downstairs.

Hoang was sitting with the two children in the corner of the yard. Seeing Lan pass, he greeted her:

“Teacher Lan.”

Lan nodded and said nothing more.

Old Tu sat at the small table. Lan opened the notebook and wrote a few simple words for him to read.

“Contract.”

Old Tu frowned.

“Con ... tract. Words are a pain in the ass.”

Lan forced a smile.

“If you work hard and learn, later people won’t trick you so easily.”

“I’ve got Hoang already.”

Hoang, sitting nearby, only smiled when he heard that.

A little while later, he stood up.

“I’ll go get more colored pencils for the kids.”

No one paid attention.

Hoang went up the stairs.

His figure was light. His steps were not hurried.

Lan’s door was half-closed.

He disappeared behind that door for a while.

Not long.

Down in the yard, Old Tu was still sitting there learning words, muttering, reading wrong and right all mixed together. Lan sat beside him correcting him, but her eyes kept glancing at the clock.

A while later, Hoang came down.

He really was holding a box of colored pencils.

He sat back in his old place, gave the pencils to the two children, then as he passed Old Tu, he slipped a tiny scrap of paper under the ashtray.

Old Tu waited until Lan turned away before glancing down.

On the paper were a few lines:

An Phuc guesthouse.
Room 203.
11:30.

Below that was one more sentence:

Come exactly on time.

Old Tu finished reading, and his heart beat hard.

He looked up at Hoang.

Hoang was still sitting there sharpening colored pencils for Lan’s child, his face normal as if nothing had happened.

Lan asked:

“Uncle Tu, read this word again.”

Old Tu jolted.

“Uh ... contract.”

“That’s right.”

“I know already. Teacher is strict as hell.”

Lan gave a faint smile.

Half an hour later, Lan closed the notebook.

“Uncle Tu, let’s stop here today. I’m a little tired.”

Old Tu nodded.

“Yeah. Go up and rest.”

Lan called the two children up to the room. She walked very fast, as if afraid that if she was even a little slower, she would no longer have enough courage to do whatever she had to do.

Lan’s door closed.

Old Tu held the scrap of paper in his hand.

Hoang stepped over and spoke quietly:

“Remember the time, Uncle.”

“Yeah.”

“Go alone.”

Old Tu nodded.

Hoang looked at him.

“Don’t be early. Don’t be late.”

Old Tu stuffed the paper into his shirt pocket.

“I know.”

He did not ask more.

There were times when a country fool still knew one thing very clearly: asking too much did not always help anyone. Doing exactly what a smart person told you to do was sometimes better.

Upstairs, Lan sat in her room for a long time.

Her two children were already asleep. One hugged a stuffed bear. One lay on their stomach, a tiny hand resting on their cheek. The night-light cast a pale yellow glow over their faces, making them look painfully innocent. Another email had just arrived. This time it demanded a change of place and a change of time. An Phuc guesthouse, room 203, 10:30. Wear the blindfold, lie ready on the bed, and the clip would be deleted afterward.

Lan read it again and again, her hands ice cold.

She wanted to call the police.

Wanted to scream.

Wanted to run downstairs and tell Old Tu, Hoang, anyone at all.

But every time she thought of it, she saw the faces of her two children. Saw the schoolyard. Saw the parents. Saw the mouths of ordinary people.

A woman’s honor sometimes did not sit in her own hands. It sat in other people’s eyes. And other people’s eyes were filthy.

Lan stood up and went to shower.

The water ran for a long time.

She put on clothes that were modest but prettier than what she usually wore. Not because she wanted to look pretty. But because when life shoved her into humiliation, she still wanted to keep one last bit of neatness for herself.

Before leaving, she bent down and kissed both children on the forehead.

One child stirred and called in a dream:

“Mom...”

Lan froze.

She nearly cried.

But in the end she only pulled the blanket back over the child, then stepped outside.

An Phuc guesthouse lay inside a dark alley.

The red sign was dim, and the words “An Phuc” sounded kind in a fake way. At the front desk, a middle-aged woman sat looking at her phone. She glanced at Lan, then handed her a key.

No questions.

Places like this were used to not asking questions.

Lan went upstairs.

Room 203.

The door opened, and the smell of cheap room spray rushed into her nose. Yellow light. White sheets. Dark red curtains. A mirror hung opposite the bed, making her afraid to look too long.

Lan stepped into the room, her heart thudding. On the bed lay a black blindfold, placed neatly. She knew this was the “rule” of today’s game. Without saying a word, Lan obediently picked up the blindfold and put it on, tying it tight behind her head. The world around her immediately sank into complete darkness.

She lay on her back on the bed, both hands kept close to her body. The silence was suffocating. Lan’s heart beat hard, both frightened and strangely aroused. What am I doing? Why am I obeying him this much? But the more she thought, the more her cunt leaked. She could clearly feel the warm slickness running out, soaking her panties. Lan bit her lip, ashamed of herself: I’m too filthy ... do I really like this blindfold game?

A while later, light footsteps sounded. The man entered the room and gently climbed onto the bed. Lan felt the weight of his body pressing down.

He started at her neck, licking slowly, hotly. His lips and tongue moved down to her shoulder, down to her chest. He kissed Lan deeply on the mouth, sucking hard, his tongue greedily wrapping around hers. Lan trembled in waves. He pulled her shirt up, removed it, then bent down and licked both sides of her breasts, sucking hard on her stiff nipples.

Lan bit her lip tightly, trying to hold back her moans.

He yanked her pants and panties down in one motion. Her sex smell spread heavily. He bent down, took a deep breath, then licked hard over her soaked panties. Lan was so ashamed her face burned: He can see it ... smell it ... see how wet I am...

Then he pushed her panties aside and buried his mouth in her cunt.

His tongue licked along her slit, sucked hard on her clit, pushed deep into the opening. Lan arched her body, mouth open, unable to stop moaning. Being blindfolded made every sense twice as sharp. Every lick, every suck made her feel like she was going mad from pleasure. She drew her legs up, hips jerking to the rhythm of his tongue.

“I ... it feels too good ... ah ... don’t stop...”

She was about to climax when he suddenly stopped. Lan felt empty, moaning and begging in her throat.

Then she felt his hot, large cock rubbing against her soaked slit. He ground hard, the head brushing her swollen clit. Lan trembled from pleasure again. But just as she was about to come, he stopped again.

He teased her like that many times. Each time he stopped short, Lan went crazier. Her clit was swollen now, itching, aching from hunger.

“Fuck me ... please ... don’t tease me anymore...” Lan moaned, her voice already turning dirty.

Suddenly, he thrust hard. The big, stiff cock sank to the root deep inside Lan’s cunt.

“Aaaaahhh!!!”

Lan jerked hard and came at once. Her cunt clenched violently around the cock, her wetness spraying everywhere. He began fucking hard, each stroke deep and fast. The sound of flesh slapping flesh rang out harshly.

Lan suddenly realized the size of this cock was much bigger than Long’s. It was not Long. But Lan could not think anymore. She was too turned on.

“Harder ... aaaa ... your cock is so big ... my cunt is so full ... it feels so good!!”

Lan lost control completely, her mouth spilling filthy words nonstop. She arched and twisted, both legs clamped tight around the man’s hips, her hips thrusting fast to meet every hard stroke. The big cock drove in and out, and the smack-smack of flesh echoed through the room. Her cunt juice sprayed each time he pulled out, soaking both their thighs.

The man fucked hard and eagerly for a long while, bringing Lan almost to another climax. But right when she was about to burst, he suddenly stopped again and pulled his cock out.

“Ah ... don’t ... please don’t stop...” Lan moaned in misery, her swollen clit bright red, itching so badly that even a light breeze would have made her jerk. She rubbed her thighs together in despair, trying to find some friction.

Suddenly there came a rapid clicking sound.

Then the black blindfold was removed.

Lan blinked several times, the light making her dizzy. When her vision cleared, she panicked completely.

In front of her was Old Tu, the seventy-two-year-old landlord, white-haired, wrinkled, one arm still in a cast. His other hand was gripping Lan’s waist. Old Tu stood frozen at the sight before him: Lan completely naked, lying on her back on the bed, both legs slightly spread, her pink cunt soaked, her clit swollen, wetness still leaking out. Her breasts heaved, nipples stiff.

The seventy-two-year-old old man had not meant to do anything, but his body reacted at once. His old cock quickly went hard, poking up inside his pants. His stiff cock accidentally pressed hard against Lan’s ass through the thin cloth.

“Aaa!!!” Lan jerked violently at that hot, hard feeling.

The more panicked Old Tu became, the more he tried to keep his balance. His remaining hand accidentally hooked into Lan’s soaked cunt.

“Aaaaahhhhh!!!”

Lan could not hold back anymore. Her body, already on the edge of climax, was suddenly stimulated and came at once. A clear stream of fluid sprayed over Old Tu’s thighs, the bedsheets, and the floor. She even squirted, her whole body trembling, mouth open and moaning nonstop.

Old Tu saw all of it, his eyes cloudy with lust.

Lan sat up on the bed, her body still shaking from the orgasm just now. Her face was flushed red, tears standing in her eyes from shame, but her eyes were also bright with a desire she could not hide. She looked at Old Tu’s old cock. Even though he was seventy-two, it was still astonishingly hard, veined, wrinkled, the big round head dark purple, twitching in front of her.