The person returning to the bottom of Po Ma slope.

The latest, official, and accurate news.

- The pickup truck, covered in red dust from the Central Highlands, stopped in front of the old house that had been abandoned for nearly thirty years. The man got out of the truck and stood for a long time in front of the decaying wooden gate, his hands trembling as he touched the stone slab that held the gate open.

Mr. Khuynh had returned after years of wandering. The news spread throughout the village faster than the loudspeaker. The elders said that Khuynh, who had left the village to pursue economic opportunities in a new land, was now very rich. The younger generation curiously asked if he had ever served in the army. Only Mr. Quan sat silently in the yard, lighting one cigarette after another. Mrs. Hien stood by the fire, softly asking her husband, "Are you... going to see him?" Mr. Quan snapped, "Why would I?", but his hand holding the cup of water trembled slightly.

***

In their youth, Mr. Khuynh, Mr. Quan, and Mrs. Hien were very close friends. They grew up together, herding buffalo, bathing in the stream, and later joined the youth group, building roads and harvesting rice for the cooperative. Back then, Mrs. Hien was the most beautiful woman in the village; Mr. Khuynh was well-liked by everyone for his humble, quiet nature, diligence, and loyalty; and Mr. Quan was resourceful, eloquent, and quick-witted. Both men admired Mrs. Hien, but neither spoke of it. Until one evening at the village festival that year, under the bright moonlight, after the cultural performance, Mrs. Hien walked home along the path beside the stream, and Mr. Khuynh silently followed behind. At the plum tree at the edge of the village, he suddenly called out, "Hien!" She turned around. For the first time, Mr. Khuynh dared to take her hand. The young woman's hand trembled. He said very softly, "If I go to the matchmaker's house… would Hien agree?"

Mrs. Hien's face flushed red, and she bowed her head: "Who knows..." At that moment, a dry branch snapped with a "crack" sound from behind the bushes. Mr. Quan stood there, his face pale. From that night on, everything began to change.

***

Then, as the war against the Americans intensified, Mr. Khuynh volunteered to join the army. Before leaving, he sought out Mrs. Hien. He took a green soldier's handkerchief from his jacket pocket: "I'm giving this to you to keep for me. When I return... I'll take it back." Mrs. Hien's tears fell onto his hand: "You must survive and come back." Mr. Khuynh smiled: "I will definitely."

But the war was far more brutal than they had imagined. A year later, a death notice arrived in the village, the news of Mr. Khuynh's death caused Mrs. Hien to faint in the cooperative's yard. For nearly two years, she lived like a shadow, and it was Mr. Quan who stayed by her side, caring for her when she was sick and helping her with farming. One rainy summer night, Mrs. Hien cried, "I'm sorry to Mr. Khuynh..." Mr. Quan squeezed her hand tightly, "The dead are dead... the living must live on." Then they became husband and wife.

***

Three years later. One afternoon in December, the whole village fell silent when they saw a thin, frail man in a soldier's uniform, with a backpack slung over his shoulder, walking from the top of Po Ma slope into the village. It was Mr. Khuynh. He wasn't dead, only severely wounded, had lost contact with his unit, and had been receiving treatment for a long time.

The first thing Mr. Khuynh asked when he returned to the village was, "Where is Hien?" No one answered. That was until he saw Mrs. Hien standing next to Mr. Quan in the yard, holding her child. She still kept the handkerchief from years ago. That night, Mr. Khuynh drank himself into a stupor on the porch. The next morning, he went to Mr. Quan's house. The whole village was on edge, everyone fearing a fight. But no, Mr. Khuynh simply placed the handkerchief back on the table and said, "From now on… I’m giving her back to you," then turned and left. Mr. Quan stood there speechless.

A month later, Mr. Khuynh left the village for the Central Highlands. People said he left because of poverty, but only Mr. Quan knew that wasn't the case. He left because his heart had no place for him.

***

Thirty years later, Mr. Khuynh returned. Po Ma village had changed considerably, but the people's hearts were narrower. They vied for every meter of land, quarreling over every word. Three generations of village chiefs resigned because every village meeting was a chaotic mess. Two opposing factions had formed within the village, waiting for an opportunity to erupt in arguments and disputes. The commune leaders were constantly struggling to resolve the situation. Just then, Mr. Khuynh returned. He renovated his house, contributed money to build a drainage system, and hired an excavator to widen the village roads. People began to respect him.

The more the villagers respected Mr. Khuynh, the more annoyed Mr. Quan became. Mr. Quan always felt that the man's return had stolen the respect he had worked so hard to build over the years. At a village meeting, seeing everyone praising Mr. Khuynh, Mr. Quan sneered, "Everyone speaks well of someone who went away to get rich and comes back." The entire community hall fell silent. Mr. Khuynh just smiled, "I'm just here to live out my old age, I'm not trying to take anything from anyone." But Mr. Quan was still uneasy. He overheard people discussing making Mr. Khuynh the village head, which only fueled his anger. Many times he spoke ill of him behind his back: "He's rich, yes, but he's been gone for decades and knows nothing about village affairs."

Once, Mr. Quan even incited people to dispute ownership of Mr. Khuynh's garden. People came and argued loudly. Everyone thought Mr. Khuynh would get angry, but unexpectedly, he just poured some water and calmly said, "Let's sit down and talk, we're neighbors." That kind of behavior made people respect him even more.

***

Having lived in Pò Mạ village for so many years, Mr. Quân's biggest concern has always been the alley behind his house. His house is located deep inside the village, and the path is narrow. He wanted to buy an additional fifty meters of land along the alley from Mr. Quyết, Mr. Khuỳnh's younger brother, to widen the access, but Mr. Quyết absolutely refused to sell. The two sides argued back and forth for years, and Mr. Quân was furious but powerless to do anything.

One spring afternoon, Mr. Quan unexpectedly visited Mr. Khuynh's house. He stood in the yard for a long time before calling out, "Mr. Khuynh... are you home?" Mr. Khuynh was watering his plants, and upon seeing his old friend, he smiled and said, "Come in and have some water. It seems the 'dragon has come to the shrimp's house' again today."

“I’ve known you’d been back for a while, but I only managed to come today. Please don’t blame me!” Mr. Quan said, his hands nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt before continuing, “I… have something I want to ask you.” Mr. Khuynh poured tea, “Go ahead.” Mr. Quan hesitated, “Regarding the land in the alleyway near my house… could you help speak to Mr. Quyet?” After saying this, he lowered his head as if afraid of being refused. Mr. Khuynh remained silent for a long time. He knew everything. He knew how much the man before him had envied him, how he had slandered him, and how he had fabricated stories, but in the end, he only asked, “Are you truly sincere in wanting to open a road for easier access, or is there something else?”

Mr. Quan sighed, "I'm old now, and later on, my children and grandchildren won't be able to drive here. Besides, I'm tired of all the constant arguments." Mr. Khuynh nodded slightly, "Okay, let me try to explain."

That evening, Mr. Khuynh called Mr. Quyet over. Upon hearing the mention of selling the land to Mr. Quan, Mr. Quyet immediately objected: "I won't sell! He's never shown any respect to anyone." Mr. Khuynh calmly replied: "But think about it, widening that alley would benefit the whole neighborhood. You'd get money and a reputation for being kind and virtuous."

"But he... he's awful, he always treats you so badly."

"Life is short, Uncle Quyet, the only difference is patience."

Mr. Quyet was still annoyed: "I'm just afraid people will take advantage of us." Mr. Khuynh smiled kindly: "If everyone only thought of themselves first, this village would never prosper." That remark silenced Mr. Quyet. A few days later, he agreed to sell the land.

Holding the agreement in his hand, Mr. Quan stared at Mr. Khuynh for a long time before suddenly saying, "I once tried to harm you... you knew all about it, didn't you?" Mr. Khuynh smiled slightly, "Yes."

"Then why are you still helping me?"

Outside, the spring breeze gently swayed the gourd vines. Mr. Khuynh gazed into the distance: "Because in our youth… he was once a good brother of mine." Mr. Quan's eyes reddened, his voice choked with emotion: "I've truly lost to him."

That night, Mr. Quan drank alone and then went to Mr. Khuynh's house. The two men sat together until late. For the first time in decades, they reminisced about the past. Mr. Quan said, "When I knew you and Mrs. Hien were in love... I was very jealous." Mr. Khuynh smiled sadly, "That's all in the past."

Sometimes I think… “I wish he hadn’t come back that day.”

The atmosphere became somber. After a long pause, Mr. Khuynh finally said, "I've never blamed you or Mrs. Hien. Those who live must move on." Mr. Quan burst into tears like a child.

At that age, men rarely shed tears.

***

After the land sale incident, Mr. Quan changed completely. He no longer spoke ill of others or caused trouble. At the village meeting, he stood up and said, "I propose electing Mr. Khuynh as village head. Only someone like him has the virtue and talent to unite the villagers." The entire hall fell silent for a few seconds before applause erupted. The elders in the village rejoiced. Mr. Khuynh became village head from then on. He didn't promise anything grand, but started with small things. He went from house to house encouraging people to keep the village roads clean, guiding them to plant cinnamon trees, pine trees, raise bees, and plant fruit trees instead of leaving the fields fallow. He mobilized the youth to repair the old football field to encourage sports training and improve health.

He said, "For the village to prosper, it must first be united." When a poor family's roof was blown off after a storm, he personally carried tiles to repair it. When there was a land dispute, he sat for hours analyzing right and wrong. Many winter nights, when the weather was bitterly cold, people still saw the lights in his house shining until late because villagers came to him for help resolving their issues. Gradually, the village of Pò Mạ truly changed. People became less petty with each other. Flowers were planted along both sides of the road leading into the village, stretching in long rows month after month. Laughter also increased during village meetings.

One late afternoon at the end of the year, Mrs. Hien brought a basket of rice cakes to Mr. Khuynh's house. She smiled gently: "You've become a man of the whole village now." Mr. Khuynh accepted it, smiling softly: "I'm old now... I'll do whatever I can for the village." Mrs. Hien looked at his gray hair, her eyes suddenly filled with sadness: "If things had been different when I was young..." Mr. Khuynh interrupted gently: "Then I guess I would still be the same." Mrs. Hien fell silent.

Outside, the sound of children playing echoed. Mr. Khuynh slowly said, "People live their whole lives, and in the end, all they want is peace of mind. I feel this is enough now." Mrs. Hien looked at the man before her, her eyes welling up with tears.

There are feelings that can never be named, even after a lifetime. But precisely because they weren't meant for each other, they become the most beautiful memories.

***

That year, Po Ma village was recognized as a model cultural village and a model new rural area of ​​the commune. On the day of the awards ceremony, Mr. Khuynh stood below, letting others go on stage. Mr. Quan pulled his old friend's hand: "You go up." Mr. Khuynh shook his head: "It's the work of the whole village." Mr. Quan looked at him for a long time, then smiled: "All my life I've been through ups and downs in everything. In the end, I understand that the true winner is the one who knows how to yield."

Late in the afternoon, the two old men walked together along the newly widened road behind their house. The once narrow alley was now wide enough for a car to pass through, children toddled ahead, and smoke rose from the rooftops. Mr. Khuynh walked slowly, gazing at the countryside in the deep red sunset. He felt an unusual sense of peace. After so many years of wandering, he had finally truly returned home.

Source: https://baolangson.vn/nguoi-tro-ve-cuoi-doc-po-ma-5093530.html