Chapter 21: Oasis of Peace & Storm Tremor
Ngan’s apartment balcony is a miniature kingdom, an oasis of order suspended in the chaos of Hanoi. The weekend afternoon sun is pale yellow, not harsh. The wind is gentle, carrying the chill of early autumn. Everything is in its place: small pots of succulents arranged in neat rows, the rattan chair without a speck of dust, the ceramic tea set placed neatly on the wooden table. This is the world under her control.
Ngan wore a loose-fitting beige linen housedress that hid the curves of her body. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, a few strands of hair hanging loosely at the nape of her neck. She moved slowly, deliberately, each action a ritual. The way she lifted the watering can, the way the water trickled down to the base of the plant, the way she sat down on the chair and made a pot of chamomile tea. She was enjoying her sweet solitude, a solitude with purpose.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The gentle scent of chamomile tea and the damp earth from the potted plants. A similar orderliness was present in her mind. Her three “little brothers,” each neatly placed in their own separate mental boxes.
Tung is an oak box, rustic, sturdy, exuding a rough security.
Minh is a colorful, shiny lacquer box, always shaking slightly as if the lid is about to burst, filled with chaos.
Quan is a mysterious ebony black box, locked with an elaborate lock to which only she has the key.
She smiled, the smile of a god contemplating her perfect creation. Three parallel worlds, never to intersect. And she was the sole sun, the center of all three planetary systems. The order was perfect. The safety.
“Vibrate.”
The phone on the table vibrated softly. A stray sound, an intrusion. She glanced at it and ignored it. It must be another text message. Her oasis did not welcome distractions. She sipped her tea, trying to regain her composure.
But she didn’t know, it wasn’t a disturbance. It was the signal that a storm was coming, a storm that would destroy her orderly garden.
The peace on the balcony was torn apart. The phone rang more than once. It started a frenzied spasm on the wooden table. The “ringing” sound was incessant, persistent and shrill, like a dying insect. It shattered the silence, it was a storm bell.
Ngan frowned. Her initial annoyance turned to unease. This interruption was unusual. It was unplanned. She reached out and picked up the phone as if it were a time bomb.
The screen lit up. And the bomb exploded.
It’s not a message. It’s a flood of notifications from Zalo, a digital invasion.
Minh added you to the group ‘Weekend Skip Work’
Minh added Tung to the group
Minh added Quan to the group
Minh added Long “Likes Everything”
Minh added Hung “6-Slice Durian”
Minh added Loan
Minh added Hang “Fly but don’t Jump”
….
The relaxed smile on Ngan’s lips froze, then shattered like a thin layer of ice. Her heart skipped a beat, a feeling as if she had just stepped down an invisible staircase. Her stomach clenched.
Tung. Minh. Quan.
Three names. Three worlds. Three planetary systems. All in one cramped frame. The carefully sealed boxes in her mind… were torn open by a rough hand and spilled onto the floor. Her three parallel worlds collided, creating a Big Bang of chaos.
“This bastard Minh!”
She hissed through gritted teeth. She felt as if someone had barged into her tranquil garden and tossed a grenade into the middle of her koi pond. All order, all control, all structure had been destroyed in a few clicks.
The peace was dead. The oasis had been invaded. She didn’t answer. She just sat there, motionless, staring at the phone screen, where the names still lay like accusations. She felt a storm brewing in her chest, a storm that was about to blow everything away.
The virtual space of the Zalo group chat named “Cut Work Weekend” has now become a Roman arena. Ngan, from the position of a god, was thrown into the midst of hungry beasts. She opened the group chat, and her phone screen became a battlefield of notifications, lines of text and stickers dancing wildly.
Minh, the mastermind, fired first. He didn’t use words, he used chaos. A series of screaming, dancing Brown bear stickers filled the screen. Then came a line of capital letters, like a tyrant’s call to arms.
Minh: [@all] BROTHERS GATHER! IT’S TIME! BURN THE WORLD FOR ME THIS WEEKEND!
Immediately, the strangers, the “vultures” Minh had added, sensed the presence of their only prey. They swarmed in, their words empty and somewhat rude.
Long “Likes Everything”: “Oh my god, what kind of group is this that even has a fairy descending to earth? Say hello to the beautiful @Bao Ngan.”
Hung “6 Pack Durian”: “So pretty. Can I have your info to get to know you?”
Tung, the guard, ignored the flies. He was silent. A few minutes later, when the bland flirtations had begun to fade, he made his move. He posted a photo. No caption. It was of him at the gym, shirtless, flexing his biceps in front of the mirror, sweating profusely, his muscles taut as rocks. It wasn’t a show-off. It was a visual territorial assertion, a primal, silent warning: “This prey is taken.”
Quan, the observer, was online. He read everything. He saw Minh’s noise, the rudeness of the strangers, and Tung’s display of strength. He did nothing. He waited for all those animals to finish growling. Only then did he drop a single line, polite, distant, like a professor entering a noisy classroom.
Quan: “Hello everyone.”
Three worlds. Three personalities. Three approaches were completely exposed in just a few lines of chat. One used chaos. One used physical force. One used mental detachment. And Ngan, the only one who remained silent, became the center of the battle, a queen waiting to make her entrance in the arena.
The virtual arena was still boiling. Messages kept jumping up, like fierce waves crashing into Ngan’s silence. All attention was now focused on the only female character who had not spoken. Her silence became a powerful void, sucking all curiosity into it.
Minh, who could not bear the emptiness, continued to push, trying to drag her into the light.
Minh: “@Bao Ngan Where did my foster sister go? She hid so well?”
Long “Likes Everything”: “The beauty must be arrogant.”
Ngan sat on the balcony, reading everything. She was in no hurry. A game of chess was being played out in her mind. She analyzed every possible move. If she answered Minh, she would be drawn into his chaos. If she answered Tung, she would encourage his controlling overprotectiveness. If she answered Quan, she would have to start another intellectual chess game. Any word would force her to choose sides, to upset the delicate balance of power she had worked so hard to create. She was the sun, she couldn’t just shine on one planet.
So, she wouldn’t say anything. Her first move was to remain silent. She turned off the screen, tossed the phone on the chair, letting their curiosity get the best of her. She let her silence become a weapon, a torture of waiting.
A few minutes later, when the caged animals were starting to lose patience, she picked up her phone again. She opened the group chat. And sent her move. A move so simple it was genius.
Bao Ngan:🙂
Just a smiley. A simple smile, without any context. It was the perfect move, because it was a blank canvas, allowing each person to paint whatever meaning they wanted to see.
To Minh, it was a tease, a wink in response to his game. “You keep going, I’m watching.”
To Tung, it was a friendly, gentle reassurance. “I see, thank you.”
For Quan, it was a smart move, a silent assertion of power. “I know what you are doing, and I am above it all.”
To strangers, it was a vague permission, a promise enough to keep them in the game.
She had turned her silence into power. She had weaponized ambiguity. With a single symbol, she had soothed everyone without committing to anyone. She was no longer a passive victim. She had become the mysterious center of this virtual cage, a queen calmly controlling her puppets.
Ngan’s mysterious smile was the tinder. And Minh was the powder keg. He immediately blew up, turning her vagueness into an undeniable fact.
Minh: “THERE! THE FOSTER SISTER SPEAKS UP! SO HAPPY, SO HAPPY!”
His capital letters were like firecrackers. He gave no one a chance to interrupt.
Minh: “On the occasion of the goddess’s arrival, I would like to make a deal: LET’S TAKE A TRIP TO QUY NHON AT THE END OF THE MONTH, BROTHERS!”
Minh: “Blue sea, white sand, yellow sunshine… and @Bao Ngan going with us! What could be better in the world? Who wants to go raise your hand!”
Minh’s call, half earnest, half dramatic, transformed Ngan from a participant into the main prize of the trip. The “guarantee” of her smile legitimized his invitation, creating an explosive effect.
Hung “6 Pack Durian”: “Of course! If there is a beautiful woman, we will go anywhere!”
Tung, as usual, didn’t say much. He just dropped a flame sticker. A wordless agreement, but full of passion and raw power.
Quan, after a moment of silent calculation, also spoke up, a short answer, seemingly indifferent but a confirmation.
Quan: “Quy Nhon? That’s fine.”
The call has been answered. The meeting in Quy Nhon has been set. The three parallel worlds will no longer collide only in virtual space. They will collide in the real world.
Ngan read their reactions, then locked the screen and threw the phone on the sofa. A decisive action. She didn’t feel happy or excited. She only felt the cold calm of someone about to enter the eye of a storm. She had set a trap, and now she was walking into it herself. She wasn’t walking as a victim. She was walking as an explorer, walking into the most dangerous territory: her own wild soul.
The virtual cage has been erected. The game has entered a whole new level, more dangerous, and much more exciting.