A week later, as Yaroslav was working under the hood of a customer’s car, a familiar silhouette appeared at the entrance.

  Elena.

  She stood there, arms crossed, watching him. Despite everything, she still chased after the man she wanted, even when it was getting harder to hold onto his attention.

  Elena: Hey, grumpy boy. You out of money again? Haven’t seen you around lately.

  Her tone was playful, but Yaroslav barely reacted.

  Yaroslav: Uh… yeah. I’ve just been busy.

  His response was distant, indifferent. Ever since he had grown closer to Duong, women like Elena no longer interested him the way they used to.

  But Elena didn’t seem to notice or maybe she refused to. She took a few steps closer, her confidence unshaken.

  Elena: You know… I could give you a discount this time, if you want?

  There was no denying Elena's charm, Yarsolav had also liked Elena before but it was only for sex. Yaroslav stayed silent for a moment, tightening a bolt, his hands steady and focused. Then, without looking at her, he said.

  Yaroslav: …Elena, you should go. If I need you, I’ll come find you.

  His words were calm, detached.

  Elena froze. For the first time, the rejection hit her not in a playful way, not in a passing moment of irritation, but as something real.

  For a second, she stood there, unmoving. Then, with quiet understanding, she turned toward the door.

  But she hesitated.

  Lingering just a little longer, just in case he changed his mind.

  Just as Elena hesitated at the garage door, something completely unexpected happened.

  A rotten egg flew straight at her, splattering across her clothes. The foul smell spread instantly.

  SPLAT!

  Elena spun around in fury, trying to locate the source of the attack—just as another egg smashed right into her head.

  SPLAT!

  Sticky, putrid liquid dripped down her hair. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the street, seeking out the culprits.

  And then she saw them.

  Three teenagers.

  Yaroslav also turned, assuming it was just some random troublemaker disrupting his work. Or worse—some old enemy from the slums looking for revenge.

  He stood up, ready to handle the situation. Only to take a direct hit to the face!

  SPLAT!

  This time, it was a rotten tomato. Not as bad as an egg, but still enough to make him lose his temper.

  His anger flared—until he saw who was responsible.

  it's Ivan, Duong and Nastya.

  Yaroslav recognized her. Nastya was Duong’s friend, and she had every reason to hate Elena. Her father had once cheated on her mother—with none other than Elena herself. That affair had destroyed her family.

  Before Yaroslav could react, Ivan shouted out:

  Ivan: Oops! Sorry! That one was a mistake!

  But the girls were not apologizing.

  Nastya continued hurling eggs, her face twisted with rage, while Duong shouted insults at Elena without mercy.

  Nastya: You fucking whore!

  Duong: Rot in hell, Elena! You should be grateful it’s just eggs this time and not a box of rotting rats like last time!

  Elena’s face turned pale with realization.

  Elena: Wait… IT WAS YOU?! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO PUT THOSE DEAD RATS IN MY ROOM?!

  A few nights ago, after one of her "work shifts," Elena had come home only to be met with a horrifying sight.

  A box full of rotting, maggot-infested rats sat waiting for her by the door.

  And as if that weren’t enough, when she turned to check on her closet, her beloved dresses... she found them soaked in some kind of rancid liquid.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The unbearable stench of fermented shrimp paste filled the room. It's Vietnam shrimp paste...

  A very… Vietnamese revenge.

  Now, realizing who was behind that nightmare, Elena lunged at Duong in fury—only to take a direct hit to the eye from another flying tomato.

  SPLAT!

  Blinded and staggering, she was helpless as Ivan continued his assault with eggs and tomatoes, while the two girls screamed curses at her.

  The chaos unfolding before Yaroslav’s eyes was something even he, a man who had survived war, was utterly unprepared for.

  Yaroslav: Oh no… This… This is worse than anything I’ve seen in combat.

  After a few seconds of being stunned by the chaotic scene, Yaroslav finally regained his composure and shouted

  Yaroslav: STOP RIGHT NOW!

  The three kids immediately froze, but Elena was already in a miserable state. The foul stench of rotten eggs and tomatoes clung to her, her hair matted and sticky. She stood there, furious, but there was nothing she could do except clench her fists tightly.

  Yaroslav sighed, went inside, and returned with a towel. He handed it to Elena reluctantly, without even looking at her once.

  Yaroslav: Go home.

  Elena gritted her teeth, but she knew she couldn’t stay any longer. She snatched the towel, shot a hateful glare at the three troublemakers, then stormed off. As soon as she was gone, Yaroslav turned sharply to face Ivan and Duong.

  The two immediately put on their most innocent smiles, their puppy-dog eyes looking at him pleadingly. Normally, Yaroslav might have softened…

  But when he glanced around his auto shop, now a war zone of broken eggs, smashed tomatoes, and an unbearable stench, his anger flared up again.

  Yaroslav: Ivan… Which bastard taught you this kind of thing?! I bet this was your idea!

  Ivan swallowed nervously and stammered:

  Ivan: Wasn’t… wasn’t it you who taught me this, though?

  Yaroslav froze. He recalled his younger days, all the mischief he had once taught Ivan… and realized the boy was right.

  Yaroslav: …Shit.

  He rubbed his temples, sighing.

  Yaroslav: Alright, I don’t care who planned this. You’re cleaning this up. If you don’t, I’ll throw all three of you into a barrel of motor oil.

  The three kids immediately grabbed rags, buckets of water, and got to work.

  Unlike their mischievous behavior earlier, now they were diligently cleaning. Ivan wiped the floors, Duong scrubbed the glass windows, and Nastya picked up all the broken eggs and tomatoes.

  Before long, the shop wasn’t just back to normal—it was cleaner than before.

  Yaroslav looked around, satisfied. It had been months since he last cleaned up his shop.

  Then, an idea popped into his head.

  Without saying a word, Yaroslav stepped outside.

  About ten minutes later, he returned with three ice creams in hand. He tossed two to Ivan and Duong, then handed one to Nastya.

  No one expected that a gruff, perpetually frowning guy like Yaroslav would do something so thoughtful.

  The three kids beamed, sitting on the shop’s doorstep, eating their ice cream while chatting.

  A little while later, Nastya finished first and stood up.

  Nastya: I’m need to go home now! bye!

  Duong & Ivan: Bye, Nastya!

  Now, only three of them remained—Yaroslav, Duong, and Ivan.

  In the cool evening air, they sat there, enjoying their sweet treats, as if all the chaos from earlier had never happened.

  Yaroslav was still puzzled by what he had just witnessed. It was the first time he had seen Duong act so feisty and aggressive. She had always been mischievous, but never outright ruthless.

  But in the end, he didn’t really care.

  He was in love.

  And to him, Duong was still as adorable and innocent as ever.

  As they continued eating, Yaroslav realized something—Duong wasn’t eating.

  Instead, she was just watching them. Before he could ask, she suddenly stood up and ran off. Yaroslav raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. A moment later, she returned, this time holding a big cup of ice cream.

  Yaroslav smirked.

  Yaroslav: Ah, you little glutton. If you wanted more, you could’ve just ask me for more.

  But before he could finish teasing her, she suddenly held up a spoonful of ice cream to his face.

  Yaroslav blinked in surprise.

  So she didn’t buy it for herself—she bought it for him. The spoon hovered in the air, waiting for him to take a bite.

  Duong tilted her head, still waiting. Then, as if feeding a child, she softly said

  Duong: Aah~

  She gently brought the spoon closer to his lips.

  Yaroslav stared at her for a moment, speechless. Then, without thinking, he leaned in and took the bite. The cold, sweet ice cream melted in his mouth, but the real thing that made his heart melt…

  Was the way Duong was looking at him.

  But then, Yaroslav snapped back to reality. He grinned mischievously, standing tall in front of Duong and Ivan, eager to see their reactions.

  Yaroslav: Watch this, fat kids.

  With that, he pulled off his shirt and turned his back to them, revealing his well-defined lats.

  But there was something new. A new tattoo.

  The flowers that Duong had once drawn on his back—now permanently inked onto his skin.

  Duong and Ivan’s eyes widened with excitement as they took in the sight of his new tattoo...

  After a while, Ivan left as well, giving Yaroslav and Duong some privacy.

  Yaroslav turned to look at Duong and smiled at her.

  Ever since Duong stepped into Yaroslav’s life, he felt as if his world had gained more color and warmth with her presence.

  Sure, things had become a little more chaotic, a little more lively but it was a welcome change from the dull, quiet peace he had once known.

  Suddenly, he pulled her into an embrace. It had been so long since he last felt love or was loved like this.

  People were right when they said love wasn’t just about sex or something grand and unattainable. Sometimes, it was just as simple as this—a feeling so pure and inexplicable that even he couldn’t understand why he had fallen.

  Duong wrapped her arms around him in return.

  Without a doubt, she had succeeded in bringing joy and color back into his once dull and monotonous life.