Chapter 8: The Unexpected Little Guest
That morning began like any other peaceful day. The sky was clear, sunlight gently filtered through the leaves, casting soft golden streaks across the wooden porch. Thiên Lam was preparing tea when she heard a soft sound outside—a faint, plaintive meow that tugged gently at her heart.
She tilted her head, set the teapot down, and stepped outside.
Beneath the porch, nestled among dew-covered grass, was a tiny kitten curled into a tight ball.
Its fur was soft white with pale golden patches, like late afternoon sunlight. Big, round eyes shimmered like raindrops, staring up at her in quiet curiosity. The kitten looked cold and hungry—its tiny body shivering in the early breeze.
Thiên Lam knelt down and gently extended a hand. “Where did you come from, little one?”
The kitten tiptoed closer, sniffed her fingers, and then softly pressed its head into her palm.
No one knew where it had come from—perhaps abandoned, perhaps lost. But Thiên Lam didn’t wonder too much. In that moment, all she knew was that her heart softened at the sight of this small, fragile creature.
She brought it inside, gently cleaned the dirt from its fur, then placed a soft cloth in a wicker basket by the window. The kitten nestled into the warmth, occasionally twitching as it purred in comfort.
She warmed some milk in a bowl and set it nearby. As the kitten lapped it up, Thiên Lam smiled—genuinely, quietly, for no particular reason.
She named it Mạch Nha—a name as gentle and sweet as its presence in her new life.
From the day Mạch Nha arrived, the little wooden house felt more alive. There were tiny pawsteps on the floor, curious eyes peeking from behind curtains, and sudden mischief—like pulling at the tablecloth or disappearing into the laundry basket.
In the evenings, Mạch Nha curled up in her lap as she read books under the soft glow of the lamp. During the day, it followed her out to the garden, chasing falling leaves and tumbling through the flowerbeds.
Its presence didn’t change her life in grand ways. But it made each small moment warmer, softer.
She no longer felt quite so alone watching the dusky purple sky. Because now, there was a pair of quiet eyes watching it with her—content, calm, and always nearby.
Sometimes, she would find herself mentioning Mạch Nha when chatting with Minh Vũ, whenever he visited with a basket of apples or a new book in hand. He would listen with a smile, eyes lighting up at the mention of the kitten’s latest antics.
And just like that, life continued to unfold—slow, gentle, and full of quiet wonders.
(Chapter 8 – End)
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