Chapter 37.B: The Invisible Wall
Minh’s arm, which was draped over Ngan’s chair, quickly withdrew as if burned. He sat up straight, no longer joking, but rather awkward. Tung unconsciously crossed his arms across his chest, a typical defensive posture. He was like a bear protecting his territory, his eyes full of vigilance. Ngan also sat up straight, her hand gently stroking her hair that had been messed up by the wind. A gesture to regain composure, to put back on the social mask, a perfect cover-up.
Quan was standing right next to their table, like a judge about to score. He glanced at the food, the bottle of corn wine, then looked out at the majestic scenery, and finally looked back at the three of them, his eyes sharp as knives.
Quan’s voice was calm and reasonable to the point of being impossible to argue with. “Sorry everyone, I finished my work in the city earlier than expected, so I drove up here to get some fresh air. Find some inspiration for my work. Do you mind if I join the group?”
His question was rhetorical. No one could say “bother”. Both Minh and Tung were silent, looking at Ngan. She was the one who had to make the decision.
A thought flashed through Ngan’s mind: “Damn. He knows. He must know something is up. He didn’t come here by accident. He came to observe.” But she couldn’t refuse.
She flashed a bright, fake smile, a perfect mask. “Of course not. The more the merrier, right?” She glanced over, a meaningful glance that forced Minh and Tung to agree.
Minh smiled, his voice forced. “Yes, yes! Brother Quan is the best! There’s one more person to pay for the drinks!”
Tung just nodded stiffly, his eyes full of resignation.
Quan pulled out a plastic chair and sat down calmly. He had successfully penetrated the trio. The balance of the trio had been completely broken. The wild fun was over, replaced by a tense ride with an unwilling audience, an analyst who would not miss any detail, a mental torture.
Inside Quan’s classic SUV. The windows were closed, cutting him off from the howling wind and loud exhaust outside. He drove slowly, keeping a safe distance from the two motorbikes in front of him, like an outsider watching a play.
Quan looked at the two motorbikes in front. They were no longer in a line. Minh’s motorbike kept circling Tung’s, like a satellite orbiting a planet. In his mind, an initial observation appeared: “They… are different. They are no longer three parallel lines, each with their own thoughts. Now they are a cluster, a mess stuck together. The invisible wall at noon was not shyness around strangers. It was defense. They are hiding, protecting something new that has just formed.”
Quan’s curiosity was piqued. He was no longer an unwilling participant. He had become a willing spectator, an analyst, a solver of a puzzle.
Still on the Ma Pi Leng pass, where the wind still whistled through the ravines. Quan focused his attention on the car in front – Tung and Ngan’s car, like a scientist collecting data.
He narrowed his eyes. There was a clear change from the day before. Ngan no longer kept her distance. Her entire body pressed against Tung’s back. Her arms wrapped around his waist, intertwined in trust. Her head occasionally rested on his shoulder.
When the car went over a bumpy road, instead of being startled and loosening her grip, she tightened her grip even more. He also saw Tung’s hand, for a moment, leave the steering wheel and place it on Ngan’s clasped hands, a brief but meaningful gesture of asserting ownership.
In Quan’s mind, an analysis appeared: “No. This is no longer the care of a ‘younger brother’. This is possession. And her leaning on her is not a weakness that needs to be protected. It is the comfort, the absolute trust of a woman beside her man. The boundary has been completely erased. The question is: when, and how?”
The first piece of data had been gathered. It was in complete contradiction to what he had seen yesterday. Quan felt the excitement of someone about to solve a difficult puzzle, an intellectual stimulation.
The group stopped at a roadside cafe to rest, where the wind was still blowing strongly. Quan did not get out of the car immediately, he sat in the car, observing from a distance, like a researcher watching his subject.
The three of them stood talking and laughing. Minh, with his boisterous nature, told a story that made Ngan laugh out loud, her laughter echoing through the mountains and forests. Then, he did something very bold: he reached out, his rough fingers lightly gliding over the fabric of his pants, then slapped Ngan’s butt loudly, a gesture full of possession, a declaration of power. A dry “Slap!” sound rang out, tearing the silence of the mountains and forests.
Quan held his breath, waiting for Tung’s reaction. Logically, Tung, with his protective and possessive nature, should be mad, should rush at the intruder. But no. Tung just glanced at Minh, then laughed and shook his head. He didn’t show any signs of jealousy. He accepted that action, an incomprehensible abnormality.
A hypothesis popped into Quan’s head: “No jealousy. Interesting. Extremely interesting. Tung, a guy who always considered Ngan his personal territory, could laugh when another male touched her possessively right in front of him. This is completely illogical.”
And then, a conclusion was drawn: “Unless… that territory was no longer his own. It had become common territory. They were no longer rivals. They had become allies.”
The second piece of the puzzle fell into place. The picture began to emerge, a picture both morbid and fascinating. Quan felt as if he were on the verge of a shocking truth.
They were back on the road, the roar of the motorbike engine echoing through the mountains and forests. Quan followed behind, but his mind was working at full capacity, like a machine putting together a puzzle.
He looked at the three of them in front. Ngan was laughing and saying something to Minh, while still holding Tung tightly. They moved as one, inseparable unit.
And then, a final hypothesis popped into his head: “The merger.” “Last night. Definitely last night. In that common cage. When I wasn’t there. They didn’t argue or fight. They just… merged. Not some sinful, clandestine love triangle. This was a new pact. A total reorganization of the power structure. A tribe was formed.”
The mountain pass continued, but for Quan, the majestic scenery had become secondary. All his attention was now focused on the central character of the play, the riddle called “the old lady”.
A new question arose in his mind, sharp as a knife. “And she… my ‘old sister’. What was her role in last night’s tragedy? Was she the initiator, the one who actively set the trap for both beasts to fall into? Or was she a victim, swept away by the madness of the other two? Or was she simply a catalyst, standing in the middle and letting the two energies collide and blend?”
He analyzed Ngan, every gesture, every look. “The way she relaxed, the way she distributed her attention equally to both of them… didn’t look like a victim. But the tired look in her eyes didn’t exactly look like a triumphant mastermind.”
His curiosity was piqued. “The question was no longer ‘what’ happened. The question was ‘how’ and ‘why’. And what was her reaction? Who was she in the midst of all that chaos?”
Quan felt a strong urge. He could no longer just stand by and watch. He had to get in, to be part of the play to understand it, to solve the riddle that was Ngan. He stepped on the gas lightly, closing the gap between the sedan and the two motorbikes.
The observer decided he would no longer be a spectator. He was fascinated by the riddle that was Ngan, and he would do anything to find the solution, no matter where it might lead him.