Top 10 Essays where Trương Sinh narrates 'The Story of the Girl from Nam Xương' by Nguyễn Dữ

Time has flown by as swiftly as a fleeting breeze, and though more than twenty years have passed, the events still feel as if they happened just yesterday. To this day, the regret has never left my heart. My blind jealousy and suspicion towards my wife led to the loss of a kind and gentle woman and the destruction of my family's happiness. The Trương family has only me as their son, and since I was young, my parents pampered me greatly. I have always been naturally distrustful of others, even of those closest to me. When the time came for marriage, in the village there was a woman named Vũ Nương, whose gentle nature, beauty, and elegance I admired. I asked my mother to bring betel leaves and gold to ask for her hand in marriage. Although we shared a life together as husband and wife, I never fully trusted her, and I was always wary. But Vũ Nương proved herself worthy of my trust, and the Trương family handled everything with great care, so we lived in harmony. However, certain events unfolded that were beyond my expectations. Having been raised in wealth, I never studied, believing that money could solve everything. When the empire called for soldiers to fight on the border, I assumed, as a member of a wealthy family, I would be exempt. But due to my lack of education, my name was at the top of the list to be conscripted. Realizing I could not avoid it, I prepared to leave. On the day of my departure, my mother, tears in her eyes, gave me a warning: 'You must go to serve the empire. I know this is an opportunity for you to build a name for yourself, but on the battlefield, war is unpredictable. Be careful, do not let ambition or personal gain deceive you. I do not expect you to return with glory, just come back safely. Please, heed my words so that I can rest easy.' I bowed to her and promised to follow her advice. Vũ Nương, my wife, also expressed her concerns, urging me to return safely, but I, too, took her words to heart. Three long years passed as I fought in the borderlands against the enemy. After countless battles, we finally emerged victorious. I returned home to find that my mother had passed away from grief, waiting for news of me, and that I now had a son named Đản. Though I was saddened by my mother's death, the arrival of my son brought me some comfort. Vũ Nương remained as caring and devoted as ever, managing the household through the trials of my absence and my mother's passing. The next day, I took my son to visit my mother's grave, but he refused to follow, crying loudly. I tried to console him, telling him: 'Please stop crying, my son! I have been away for three years, and now I return to find that your grandmother has passed away. It is a cruel fate.' My son, confused, looked at me and asked: 'Wait, are you my father? You speak so strangely, my father never talked like that before.' I was stunned. After three years of absence, how could my son not recognize me as his father? I pressed him further, asking: 'Who was your father before I left? Why did he come without saying anything?' His response shocked me: 'Before, when you weren't here, my father would come at night and sit with my mother. Whatever she did, he did too, but he never picked me up.' A man coming at night? Was my wife unfaithful to me during my absence? Had she betrayed me? I could not believe what I was hearing. Returning home, I angrily scolded my wife, calling her immoral and dishonorable. At first, Vũ Nương was stunned, staring at me in disbelief, then she wept and said: 'I was born to a poor family, and it was a blessing to marry you. We were happy for half a year before you left. I have been miserable without you, and for three years I have not even looked at another man. I have been faithful to you, please do not listen to rumors and accuse me unjustly.' But I did not believe her. I was consumed by anger and suspicion. If only I had listened to her, or to the advice of the villagers, I would not have driven her away. In my rage, I called her names and accused her of infidelity. A week later, Vũ Nương, with tears in her eyes, said to me: 'I have always depended on you, for the sake of our family, and our son. I never thought of leaving. But now, you doubt me, and because of this, I cannot explain anymore. I can no longer bear the shame.' And with that, she left, changing her clothes and heading toward the river. I thought she left in shame, but little did I know, she threw herself into the river to prove her loyalty. When I learned of her death, my anger gave way to deep regret. I tried to find her body, but it was gone. One night, while sitting with my son, he suddenly exclaimed: 'Dad, Đản is here!' I looked around, but saw no one. He pointed at my shadow on the wall and said: 'Here!' And it struck me—my wife had told my son that the shadow was his father. In my ignorance, I had never clarified the situation with her, and now, even though I regret my actions, there was nothing I could do to change the past. Months passed, and I was haunted by my guilt. Then one day, a man named Phan Lang came to me with a shocking revelation: my wife was still alive. Initially, I did not believe him, but when he showed me a golden bracelet and told me of his encounter with her under the sea, I began to believe. He also said that she wished for me to perform a ritual at the river where she had drowned. I did as she asked, and after three days of prayers, I saw a brilliant procession approaching. Vũ Nương emerged from the procession, more beautiful than ever. But when I called to her, she stood in the middle of the river and said: 'Thank you for fulfilling my wish. I have sworn to stay with the goddess Linh Phi. I can never return to live with you. Take care of our son, Đản, and that is all I ask of you.' With that, she disappeared into the river, leaving me with nothing but regret. I realized too late that I had caused her suffering, and now nothing could undo the damage I had done. Now, more than twenty years later, I still carry the weight of my regret. Though I have tried to change, the image of Vũ Nương never leaves my mind. Sometimes, I wish I could go back to the Trương Sinh of twenty years ago and apologize to her. But it is too late now, and I can do nothing but raise our son, Đản, with all the love I had for her. I hope that, wherever she may be, she watches over us and finds peace.

I will never forget the moment when the silhouette of the village faded away on the river, gradually disappearing. I called out to her, but there was no reply; she just vanished, forever leaving my son and me. It was all because of my blind jealousy, and now I’ve lost my beloved wife.

My family was from Nam Xương, wealthy, but I was careless and neglected my studies. When I was just over twenty, my mother arranged a marriage for me. Her name was Vũ Nương, a gentle, graceful woman with good manners. I was extremely pleased with her as my wife, but I had a jealous nature. I feared that because of her beauty, many would be after her, so I was always watchful. Knowing my nature, she kept to herself, always caring for the family. I was content and fell more deeply in love with her every day.

However, our happiness was short-lived. War broke out, and I was called to serve in the army. Only then did I regret that had I studied harder, I wouldn’t be leaving my elderly mother and pregnant wife.

On the day I left, both my mother and wife cried bitterly. They didn’t ask for wealth or fame, just for me to return safe and sound. During the war, I missed my family dearly—my old mother waiting at home and my devoted wife. I just wished for the war to end so I could reunite with them.

Time passed quickly, and the war ended. I returned home with eager excitement. But when I arrived, I received the sad news that my mother, overcome with longing for me, had passed away. I took my one-year-old son to visit her grave, but when I reached the site, the child refused to come with me, crying loudly. I tried to calm him down:

- Stop crying, son! Your grandmother’s death has already made me heartbroken!

The child replied in surprise:

- Oh! So you are my father? You can talk now, unlike before when my real father was always silent.

I was shocked, confused, and a surge of jealousy took over. I asked the boy about this strange man.

The boy innocently answered:

- Every night, a man comes; when my mother sits, he sits too, when she stands, he stands too, but he never picks me up.

At that moment, I lost all composure. I had been away for so long, and my wife, whom I thought was virtuous, had deceived me. In my rage, I returned home and angrily drove her out. She pleaded desperately:

- I am a poor girl, sheltered by your wealthy family. We haven’t even spent enough time together, yet you accuse me in the heat of war. We’ve been apart for three years, and I have always maintained my purity. I have never strayed as you claim. I ask you to reconsider and not judge me wrongly.

But I dismissed her words as lies, as excuses, and I cruelly used harsh words to force her out. If only I had been calmer and let her explain, perhaps our family wouldn’t have been torn apart this way.

In her sorrow, unable to explain herself, Vũ Nương washed herself clean and went to the Hoàng Giang river to end her life, trying to prove her innocence. At that time, I didn’t fully understand what had happened, but hearing of her death, I was deeply pained. I went to the river to retrieve her body and give her a proper burial, but I could not find it. I had no choice but to return home with my child.

Raising my son alone was no easy task, and that night as I lit the lamp, little Đản shouted:

- Father is here again. He’s the one who always comes with mother.

It was then that I realized I had wronged my wife. During my absence, out of love for our child and to make up for my absence, she had pointed to my shadow as the father for Đản. My blind jealousy, believing the innocent words of a child without seeking the truth, led to her untimely death. I deeply regret it.

Time passed, and one day, Phan Lang from my village brought me a flower that my wife used to wear and conveyed a message from her. She asked me to perform a ritual at the river to clear her name, burning the incense to help her return. At first, I was skeptical, but when I saw the flower, I knew it was truly hers. I decided to carry out the ritual, and to my surprise, Vũ Nương returned. She spoke to me:

- I thank you for your kindness. Linh Phi saved me, and I’ve promised to stay with her at the river, never leaving. Thank you for your love, but I cannot return to this world.

Before I could even apologize, she vanished. Seeing her return without any anger or blame only intensified my regret. Just one moment of anger, one moment of jealousy, took away the love and happiness I had with her. I will live with this guilt, pain, and the memory of her for the rest of my life.

Years have passed, yet I can never forget the actions that led to my wife's tragic decision to take her own life. The overwhelming regret always tears at my heart, especially during the quiet of the night. I wish to share this story with you, hoping that no one else will make the same mistakes I did.

I was born into a wealthy family in Nam Xương. At that time, there was a beautiful girl in the village, though poor, who had a beauty both in her appearance and her character. Her name was Vũ Thị Thiết, but everyone called her Vũ Nương. Admiring her graceful demeanor, I asked my mother for a large sum of money to marry her. We lived together happily, eagerly awaiting the birth of our first child. But then, unexpectedly, war broke out, and the government called for soldiers. Since I had never cared for studies, my name appeared on the list. With no other choice, I had to leave behind my elderly mother and young wife to go to war.

On the day I left, my mother held my hand tightly, offering me parting advice:

- You must go to war now, leaving behind your loved ones. Though a military career is rarely successful, in the face of battle, always protect yourself. If danger arises, retreat. Don’t be tempted by the allure of fame or power. Let others take the higher positions. This way, I will be less worried about you.

I knelt before her and promised to follow her advice. My wife handed me a cup of wine, speaking with emotion:

- My dear husband, I don’t wish for you to return with fame or wealth, just that you come back safe. The war is uncertain, and the risks unknown. Please come back to me and our unborn child. I fear we may never hear from you, and that the distance between us will become an eternal separation.

As she spoke, everyone around us shed tears. After the farewell feast, I left. The world around me remained the same, but my heart was heavy with the separation and the long journey ahead.

I spent over a year at the front, but was fortunate to return home to my family. However, fate struck me a cruel blow when I learned that my mother had passed away due to the pain of missing me. I was devastated. I planned to take my infant son, Đản, to visit her grave, but when we arrived, Đản, having never met his grandmother, refused to go. He cried, and I comforted him, saying, “Don’t cry, son. Grandma has passed away, and I am heartbroken too.” To my shock, Đản told me that I was not his father; his real father was the one who came to visit his mother every night. I was stunned, my world collapsing around me.

I could not believe that Vũ Nương, a virtuous and faithful wife, could have changed in my absence. The jealousy and suspicion grew uncontrollably within me. When I returned home, I lashed out at her in anger. Vũ Nương was shocked and confused. She tearfully explained, “I come from a poor family, but I found shelter in your prosperous family. I have always prided myself on my good character. We were separated by war, not by any other reason. In the three years we’ve been apart, I have preserved my chastity, never wearing makeup or engaging in any unfaithful behavior. I have only thought of you and stayed loyal. Please believe me and don’t accuse me unjustly...”

But no amount of truth could quell my suspicions. Neighbors who had witnessed her devotion to my mother and her care for our son tried to defend her, but I refused to listen. I was beyond reasoning. I harshly scolded her and ordered her to leave. Unable to convince me, Vũ Nương, heartbroken, uttered in sorrow:

- I turned to you because I longed for a peaceful home and security. But now, my love for you has become as fragile as fallen petals, lost like a cloud dissipating after the storm. No matter how much I cry or mourn, it’s too late. I can never return to the happiness we once had.

I didn’t know then that she had gone to the Hoàng Giang river to cleanse herself, swear her innocence, and end her life.

As for me, my doubt not only destroyed Vũ Nương, but it also tormented me, leaving me restless and filled with guilt. Though I was angry with her for what I thought was betrayal, when I heard of her death, my heart ached. I searched for her body to give her a proper burial, but I could not find her. One night, as I sat in despair, my son suddenly exclaimed, “Father Đản is here!” and pointed at my own shadow on the wall. In that moment, everything became clear to me. While I was away, Vũ Nương would playfully point to her own shadow and tell our son that it was his father. I realized the terrible injustice I had done to her, but it was too late to undo the damage.

This story, this mistake of mine, is true. I lost my own happiness. By sharing this painful tale, I hope others will learn from my folly. Don’t act in haste and anger, but trust and love your family so that no one else has to suffer the way I have.

Her shadow appeared and disappeared on the river, bidding farewell to me and our child before vanishing forever… I desperately called her name, trying to hold on, but she was gone for good, leaving me and our son behind. All of this was caused by my blind jealousy, and now I've lost my gentle and virtuous wife.

I originally came from Nam Xương, a wealthy family, but I preferred play over study. At just over twenty, my mother arranged a marriage for me. My wife, Vũ Nương, was a gentle, modest girl with excellent manners. I was deeply satisfied with her, but my jealousy made me fearful that her beauty and grace would attract other suitors. So, I kept a watchful eye on her. Knowing my nature, Vũ Nương did her best to maintain a virtuous image, which helped keep our family peaceful and harmonious. The more I tried to protect her, the more I loved her.

But our happiness was short-lived. War broke out, and I was called to serve. On the day I left, both my mother and wife wept, hoping I would return safely. During the war, I missed my family deeply, longing for my mother and my devoted wife. I wished the war would end quickly so I could return home.

After three years of war, I returned home full of excitement, but my arrival brought nothing but misfortune. My mother, unable to bear my absence, had passed away. I took my child, who was under a year old, to visit her grave, but little Đản refused to come along, crying loudly. I tried to console him:

- Stop crying, my child. My heart is already heavy with grief!

My child spoke:

- Is he my father too? He can speak, unlike my father who used to stay silent.

I was shocked, my heart ached, and jealousy surged within me. I demanded to know about the man the child was referring to.

The child innocently replied:

- Every night, a man comes, and mother sits with him. When mother leaves, he follows, but he never picks me up.

At that moment, I lost my composure. My wife’s gentle nature was just a facade. I had gone off to war and, in my absence, she had been unfaithful. In a fit of rage, I returned home and drove her away. She begged me earnestly:

- I was born to poor parents, relying on a wealthy household. Our love was never fully realized because of the war. For three years, I preserved my chastity. My beauty, painted with makeup, never strayed. I have never been dishonorable as you accuse. Please, allow me to explain and clear the misunderstanding. I beg you not to wrongly accuse me.

But her words seemed deceitful and evasive, and I rejected them, using harsh words to cast her out. If I had been more patient and listened to her explanation, our family would not have been torn apart.

In despair, unable to explain herself, Vũ Nương bathed and went to Hoàng Giang River to drown herself, hoping to prove her purity. At that time, I did not understand the situation, but the news of her death filled me with sorrow. I went to the river to retrieve her body and give her a proper burial, but I could not find her. I had no choice but to return home with my son.

Raising a child alone was not easy, and one night, as I lit the lantern, Đản shouted:

- Father, Đản is here again! He is the one who always comes with mother.

That was when I realized I had wronged my wife. While I was away, she had used her shadow to comfort our child, allowing him to feel the love of both parents. In my blind jealousy, I had misunderstood the situation, and that led to her tragic death. I regretted it deeply.

Time passed, and one day, Phan Lang, a villager, brought me a flower that my wife used to wear and told me that she had left a message asking me to perform a ceremony on the river to release her soul. Though I was skeptical, seeing the flower confirmed that it was truly from her. So, I performed the ceremony, and Vũ Nương returned. She spoke to me:

- I thank you for your kindness. Linh Phi has saved me, and I promised to remain here with her, never to leave, even after death. I cannot return to the mortal world anymore.

I had no chance to apologize before she disappeared again…

She returned without a word of reproach, without bitterness. This only made my pain worse. In that single moment of rage and jealousy, I had taken away the love of a mother from Đản, and lost the happiness of my own family. I will live with this regret and sorrow for the rest of my life, never forgetting her…

My name is Trương Sinh, and today I would like to share the story of my family with you, hoping that you can learn from my experience and understand how to cherish your own family’s happiness before it’s too late, as I have learned through regret.

When I turned twenty, my mother arranged a marriage for me. She brought a dowry and proposed to a girl from our village, named Vũ Thị Thiết. She was nineteen at the time, modest and gentle in appearance, with an attractive face and a virtuous character. I was overjoyed because I had found a beautiful and obedient wife. We lived happily together for a short while, and soon after, my wife, Vũ Nương, became pregnant with our first child. However, this was also the time when I was called to war by the government. On the day we parted, she cried softly, urging me to take care of myself and return safely so that we could reunite as a family, with father and son together, and husband and wife reunited.

The war continued for many years, but eventually, peace returned. I was able to return to my homeland and was filled with joy. But upon my arrival, I was struck with devastating news: my mother had passed away a few years earlier due to her grief over my absence. I was heartbroken and took my son to visit her grave, but he refused to come with me. He told me that I was not his father, as his real father would visit him every night. When I heard this, I was furious, and jealousy took over me. Given that my wife was known for her beauty, I assumed she had found someone else, and immediately believed my son’s words. In a fit of rage, I returned home and kicked my wife out of the house. I also insulted her, which caused her to leave, and I had no idea where she went.

It wasn’t until later that I heard a villager frantically run to tell me, "Trương Sinh, I saw your wife, Vũ Nương, jump into the river to end her life." The neighbor went on to tell me about the kind deeds Vũ Nương had done for my mother while she was ill, a time when I was absent. He said that I was very fortunate to have married Vũ Nương, but I had failed to appreciate her. Hearing this, I was filled with remorse and was stunned by the drastic action my wife had taken. When I had angrily sent her away, I had thought she would return to her family’s home, waiting for me to cool down and come to my senses. But instead, she chose death to prove her innocence. I felt devastated.

For many nights, I couldn’t sleep. My son would cry for his mother, and my wife’s image haunted my mind. One night, as I sat in front of a lantern, staring at my own shadow on the wall, my son woke up and happily exclaimed, "There’s my father!" That’s when I realized that the figure my son had been calling "father" every night was actually the shadow of his mother. I broke down in tears, but it was too late. My wife was gone, never to return.

In my village, there was a fisherman named Phan Lang who had once fallen into the river but survived. After he recovered, he came to visit me and told me that he had seen my wife in the underworld. She had asked him to tell me to set up a ceremony to release her soul. Heeding her request, I performed the ceremony, and in the misty and surreal haze, I saw my wife, Vũ Nương, seated on a flower carriage, floating towards the heavens, never to return to me or my son.

Today, I tell you my story so that you may learn to value the relationships in your own family. Once married, trust and loyalty are essential—never let jealousy and suspicion tear you apart, as it did to me. I will regret my actions for the rest of my life.

No one in life is exempt from making mistakes, but what truly matters is how we correct them. However, for me, once a mistake is made, there’s no turning back; only sorrow, regret, and a deep sense of loss remain for what happened years ago. I, Truong Sinh, was born and raised in Nam Xương. My father passed away when I was young, leaving only my mother and me. The two of us depended on each other to get by. My mother always wished for me to marry early so that she could have a grandchild to dote on, to bring joy into our home. When I reached the right age, she arranged a marriage for me with a beautiful, capable young woman from the village named Vu Thi Thiet. I was overjoyed because, though my family wasn’t wealthy—just a widowed mother and a dutiful son—she agreed to marry me. I loved my wife deeply, and sometimes, my intense love led to jealousy. It was a flaw, but I couldn’t control my emotions whenever another man approached Vu Nương.

Our little family was blessed by Vu Nương’s nurturing care, and I felt truly happy and at peace. It was the most beautiful time of my life. My mother, now elderly and frail, loved my wife as if she were her own daughter, and Vu Nương showed her utmost respect and care. We lived harmoniously, eagerly awaiting the birth of our first child. But then, war erupted, and chaos swept across the land. I was drafted into the army, leaving behind my elderly mother and young wife.

As I was about to depart, my mother grasped my hand tightly, her voice trembling as she advised me:

- Take care of yourself amidst the dangers of war, retreat if necessary, pace yourself, and don’t be tempted by sweet rewards that could lead to traps. Leave the positions of power and titles for others. Only then will I be at ease knowing that you are safe.

I knelt and promised to heed her counsel. Vu Nương, in turn, poured a full cup of wine and handed it to me with both hands, saying:

- I do not wish for you to return with titles and glory, but for you to come back safely, that is enough. The way of war is perilous, and the enemy unpredictable. The war may not be over soon, and I fear for your safety. While you are gone, I will worry, as will your mother. I will wait for you, praying for your safe return.

As I looked at these two most important women in my life, I was deeply moved. Their words brought a warmth to my heart, and I felt reassured knowing they were there to take care of our home. The day I left for war, my heart was heavy as I turned away from our house, not daring to look back.

I had been gone for a week when my wife gave birth to our son, whom she named Dan. With the baby, the house no longer felt so empty. Days turned into months, and six months passed in a flash. My mother, missing me terribly, fell ill and passed away. Vu Nương never once complained and devoted herself to caring for my mother until her final breath. From then on, the house was quieter, with only my wife and son left to lean on each other. Dan never knew his father because I had been away at war for so many years.

When the war ended and I returned home, I was devastated to hear from a neighbor that my mother had passed away more than half a year ago. I was crushed, throwing down my belongings in haste and rushing to visit her grave. But I didn’t know where she had been buried, so I took my son with me. As we made our way, he cried incessantly, refusing to acknowledge me as his father. He even punched me and said, "Let me go, you’re not my father. My father visits me every night." Hearing this, I was enraged. I believed that my wife had gone astray during my long absence, becoming soft with some other man. I hurriedly lit incense and prayed to my mother, then stormed home to confront my wife. My anger burned so fiercely that I could not calm down.

When I entered the house, I saw my wife busy in the kitchen, preparing a feast. She came out, a streak of soot on her face, looking so beautiful and charming that it was impossible not to admire her. But my jealousy was overwhelming. I couldn’t let go of my anger. I glared at her and demanded, "My son says that his father visits him every night. Who is it? Who is it?" My rage flared up like a raging fire, burning away all rationality. I shouted at her, ignoring her tears. As my fury reached its peak, I coldly ordered her to leave the house. Neighbors tried to intervene, but I shouted at them to leave as well. Vu Nương continued to cry, her tears soaking her clothes. I felt a pang in my heart, but my anger blotted it out. I blindly forced her out and shut the door behind her.

I assumed that she would go back to her parents or seek refuge with relatives, but instead, my wife cleaned herself up, donned royal garments, and raised her face to the sky, praying to the heavens to bear witness to her purity and virtue. Then, she threw herself into the river and ended her life. She was gone. I was stunned. She was truly gone... Why did it have to be this way? I was in agony, staring at the still water below. I couldn’t believe she had gone to such extremes. I blamed myself for being so blind. If she hadn’t been innocent, why would she have acted so decisively? My jealousy had indirectly caused her death. The woman I loved, the one I had hurt... She had sacrificed herself to prove her innocence to me.

That night, in the cold, empty house, I couldn’t sleep. My son cried out for his mother, and after much effort, I managed to calm him down. But I couldn’t sleep, so I lit an oil lamp to brighten the room. When I saw my shadow on the wall, my son Dan excitedly said, "Dad, it's you." His words shocked me into realization. I had wronged my wife, pushing her to her death. The painful memories came flooding back. Everything had happened so quickly. I had been cruel and cold to Vu Nương, who only wanted me to trust her. But I failed. Now, no matter how much I regret or mourn, I cannot bring her back. My son has lost his mother because of his careless father.

Nearby, there was a fisherman named Phan Lang, who once dreamed of a woman begging for her life. After waking, he found a large turtle and remembered the dream, so he released it back into the sea. One day, Phan Lang’s boat capsized, and a woman appeared to save him. It turned out that this woman was my wife. Because of the injustice she suffered, she had found peace in the afterlife, and her soul had moved the waters, leading to her rescue. She asked Phan Lang to deliver a message to me: 'You must perform a ritual to absolve me, and I will return.' At first, I doubted Phan Lang’s words, but when I received a golden flower, I knew it was from Vu Nương.

I followed Phan’s advice and set up a ritual by the riverbank. Vu Nương appeared, but only intermittently. I called out to her, but she stayed in the river, speaking to me:

- I thank you. I vow before Linh Phi that I will never forget your kindness. But I can never return to the mortal world.

At that moment, she vanished. I bowed my head in grief. The regret weighed heavily on me. Because of my blind jealousy, I had caused the permanent separation of our family. My mistake is irreparable, and I hope others can learn from my actions. In marriage, love and trust must prevail for happiness to last.

My name is Truong Sinh, and I am from Nam Xuong. My wife, Vu Thi Thiet, is a gentle and elegant woman with a remarkable character. We lived happily and peacefully with my mother, and our first child was soon to be born. However, war broke out, and I was drafted. When I received the call, I had to say goodbye to my wife and mother with sorrow and uncertainty. Before I left, my mother gave me some important advice:

- You’re heading to a battlefield, so you must be cautious and take care of yourself. Don’t let ambition or fleeting rewards cause you harm. Remember this, and I will worry less.

I took my mother’s advice to heart, accepted the farewell cup of wine from Vu Nuong, and she spoke to me:

- As you go on this journey, I do not expect you to return as a nobleman, dressed in fine robes. All I wish is for your safe return. The war is unpredictable, and danger lurks everywhere. The enemy is elusive, and our forces face great challenges. The situation is grim, and the harvest has not been kind. I am worried, as is your mother. I look at the moon above our old town and prepare warm clothes for your long absence. Even though I wait patiently, there’s still no news, and my hopes fade like withered leaves.

As she finished speaking, tears filled my eyes. After saying my final farewells, I set out for the battlefield. Not long after, my wife gave birth to our son, a healthy and fair boy, whom she named Dan. The joy was short-lived, as news soon arrived that my mother, consumed by worry for me, had fallen ill and passed away despite all of Vu Nuong’s efforts to care for her.

One year later, after the war ended, I returned home. The surroundings were almost unchanged, as if no time had passed. Upon my arrival, I was immediately informed of my mother’s death. I was devastated, but the pain deepened when I realized that my son, Dan, refused to acknowledge me as his father. While visiting my mother’s grave, I took Dan along. Upon reaching the grave, all of my emotions surged, and I couldn’t control my tears. I turned to Dan and called out to him, but he stared at me in confusion and asked:

- Are you really my father? My real father never spoke, always silent.

After much questioning, I discovered that during my absence, a man had visited our house every night. Driven by jealousy and suspicion, I rushed home, confronting Vu Nuong angrily. I ignored her explanations and the assurances of our neighbors, and in a fit of rage, I expelled her from our home. Vu Nuong then went to Hoang Giang and threw herself into the river. Fortunately, she was saved by Linh Phi and taken to the underwater palace. She later met Phan Lang, a fellow villager, and gave him a golden flower to bring to me. Meanwhile, I discovered the truth that the man I had suspected was merely a shadow of Vu Nuong. I was crushed with regret, but it was too late. Phan Lang came to me, told me the whole story, and handed me the golden flower. The following morning, I performed a ceremony to clear Vu Nuong’s name by the river. She appeared for a brief moment before vanishing.

Filled with regret and despair, I realized that my jealousy and suspicion had caused me to lose the most wonderful woman—my loving wife. I had destroyed the peaceful and happy life we once shared. I deeply regret my actions!

My name is Truong Sinh, the only child of a wealthy family in Nam Xương. Since I was young, I never took much interest in studies, preferring to live a comfortable life supported by my family’s wealth. Many people called me a flirt, but I didn’t see myself that way. From the moment I grew up, my heart was set on only one person, Vu Thi Thiet, a young woman of exceptional character and grace. I spoke with my mother, and after selecting an auspicious date, she prepared a dowry of one hundred ounces of gold to propose to Vu Nương on my behalf.

Although she came from a humble background, Vu Thi Thiet possessed the virtues of a perfect woman—poise, grace, and integrity. Our married life was incredibly happy. However, our time together was short-lived. The royal army called for recruits to fight in a war, and I was one of the soldiers chosen. At that time, my wife was pregnant with our first child. The farewell was tearful and filled with sorrow. I lowered my head, listening to my mother’s parting advice, and reluctantly left for the battlefield, torn between longing for my wife and concern for my elderly mother.

In the war, I could not stop thinking of my simple home, my aging mother, and my young wife. Eventually, the conflict ended, and I was able to return home. But as soon as I arrived, I was struck by the devastating news that my mother had passed away. The emptiness of the house was unbearably sorrowful. I took my son, Dan, to visit my mother’s grave. The child, unfamiliar with his father, cried incessantly. I tried to calm him:

- Don’t cry, my child. Father has returned, but your grandmother has passed away, and my heart is full of sorrow.

Dan, still innocent, asked me:

- Really? Are you my father? You can speak? My real father always remained silent.

I was surprised by his question and asked him to explain. He then shared:

- There used to be a man who came every night, following my mother wherever she went, but he never held me.

Hearing my child’s words, I felt a mix of pain and anger. It seemed that my wife had been unfaithful to me while I was away at war. How could this happen? I had been thinking of her constantly, longing to return and reunite, but instead, she had betrayed me. My jealousy clouded my judgment.

When I returned home, consumed by blind jealousy, I couldn’t hold back my anger and shouted at her. I ignored her attempts to explain and the neighbors’ pleas for peace. In my rage, I drove Vu Nương away. Knowing that I wouldn’t believe her, she tearfully took our child and left.

Later that evening, I heard the heartbreaking news that she had thrown herself into the Hoang Giang River to end her life. Despite my anger, I went out to search for her body with a net, but I couldn’t find her, no matter how hard I searched through the night.

One quiet night, I sat holding my son by a newly lit lamp, feeling sorrowful and reflecting on Vu Nương. Suddenly, my son exclaimed:

- Father, Dan is here!

I quickly asked where, and he pointed to my own shadow on the wall. In that moment, everything became clear to me. Oh, what have I done? I had caused the death of my wife. She had died unfairly because of my foolishness, suspicion, jealousy, and selfishness. I deeply regret my actions, but it is too late now.

In each person's life, there are moments when mistakes are made. However, what truly matters is whether those mistakes affect our lives, and how we face them and rectify them. I made a mistake once, and to this day, I cannot forgive myself for it. It was the mistake that led to my wife's death. If any of you are making the same mistakes I made back then, I urge you to correct them while you still can, for now it is too late for me to regret...

My name is Trương Sinh. My father passed away when I was young, so I was raised by my mother. The events unfolded when I reached the age for marriage. I noticed a beautiful, graceful, and well-behaved girl named Vũ Thị Thiết. Seeing her beauty and gentle nature, I asked my mother for one hundred taels of gold to marry her. I did not value her from the moment I used money to propose to her, without caring whether she loved me or not. But my wife was indeed an exemplary woman. After marrying her, both my mother and I were well cared for, with our meals and home always in order. Yet, I couldn't appreciate the happiness I had and let trivial matters make me jealous, refusing to allow any man to approach my wife. Then, after a few years, we received the joyful news of expecting a child. I was overjoyed! But unexpectedly, war broke out, and I had to leave for the battlefield, leaving my mother and wife behind. Before I left, my wife said to me: 'When you leave, I do not wish for you to return as a lord in fine clothes, but simply to return safely.' Hearing these words, I felt at ease.

At home, my wife was still a diligent, capable, and thoughtful woman. Before long, our child was born, and she named him Đản. Our small family relied on each other for support. I, on the battlefield, could not stop thinking of home—of my mother, my wife, and the child I had never met. But eventually, the inevitable happened: my mother, growing old, fell seriously ill. Before she passed, she spoke to my wife:

- Life is short, and we cannot escape the will of heaven. I did not wish to leave without seeing your husband return, but fate is cruel. The well is dry, the bell tolls, and I can no longer carry on. My son is far away, and I cannot be there to repay you. I can only hope that heaven will bless you with good fortune, with many children and a prosperous life. The heaven's grace will not abandon you, just as you have never abandoned me.

My mother had raised me with great care, and although she could not see her son before passing, she was comforted by the fact that my wife treated her as her own mother. If only I had understood my wife as my mother did, perhaps things would not have ended this way. My wife took care of my mother's funeral with great dedication. Everyone was touched by her sincerity.

Time passed, and the war eventually ended. I eagerly returned to my wife and child at home. Upon hearing the news that my mother had passed, I was devastated. I immediately went to her grave, but not knowing the way, I had my son guide me there. When we arrived, I was puzzled to see my son crying. I tried to comfort him:

- Stop crying, son. I am home, but your grandmother has passed, and my heart is heavy.

He asked me back:

- Huh? So you are my father? You can speak now, unlike the silent man who was my father before.

I was shocked! Was there another man in my wife's life? Had she been unfaithful to me? I pressed my son for answers and learned that there had been a man who came every night, sitting beside my wife, whether she stood or sat, but never once picking up my son. My jealousy flared up, and I rushed home to confront her. My wife cried, saying:

- I come from a poor family and was fortunate to be taken in by a rich household. Although we had not had time to enjoy each other as husband and wife, I have always been faithful to you. For three years, I have kept my chastity. The flowers of our love have not withered, nor has anyone else entered my life. Please, do not judge me wrongly!

At that moment, I didn't even consider whether she was right or wrong. She continued:

- I turned to you for solace because there was joy in our family. But now, like a broken hairpin, like the wind dying down, I am helpless. Tears fall like petals, and I can never go back to the days when I waited for you.

Despite her sincere pleas, I heartlessly drove her out without trying to understand the truth. I blamed myself for being overly suspicious and hasty, causing my wife to resort to taking her own life. I will never forget the words she spoke before drowning herself in the river:

- I am an unfortunate soul, forsaken by husband and child. My honor is stained, and I ask the river god to bear witness. If I have been chaste, let me become a gem in the river, and if I have deceived my husband and son, let me be food for fish and prey for birds.

My wife chose the most painful way to prove her innocence—death. Only in death could she clear her name. Later, when I held my son and saw his shadow on the wall, he said: 'Father Đản is here.' I realized that the 'lover' my wife had was merely her own shadow, and she had comforted my son in his loneliness by calling it his father... But I had no idea, and in my blind jealousy, I scolded her, humiliated her, and drove her to her death. I live with the regret of causing her tragic end. Many years later, my wife was vindicated by Linh Phi, a villager, and I saw her apparition, who said: 'I cannot return to you and our child.' Those words haunt me to this day.

Now, after twenty years, I still cannot forget that story. The tragedy I caused makes me want to repent for the rest of my life, raising my son alone. I now understand that when we love someone, trust is crucial. We must trust the person we love and not let jealousy blind us. If something happens, we must seek the truth before acting, for when we act in anger, we can make decisions we will regret.

To all of you in relationships, I urge you to respect and understand your partner. Do not let jealousy cloud your judgment. My life is beyond repair, but you still have many chances. Treat others with kindness and be cautious in all your actions, so you will never regret anything.

I am Truong Sinh, the only son of a wealthy family famous for its affluence in the region. Since I was a child, I never had much interest in studying classical literature, and as I grew older, I relied solely on my family’s wealth. Many people thought I was frivolous, but I didn’t agree, because from the time I came of age, there was only one woman I desired, Vu Thi Thiet. She came from a poor family in Nam Xuong, but was renowned for her grace and virtuous nature. I spoke to my mother about her, and we prepared a dowry of one hundred taels of gold, then went to ask for her hand in marriage.

Though she came from a humble background, she embodied the virtues of “beauty, talent, manners, and speech,” and our married life was blissful. However, as the saying goes, “good times never last long,” and soon after, war broke out, and I was called to the front lines. At that time, Vu Nuong—my wife—was pregnant with our first child. The day we parted was full of sorrow, and I left with my mother’s parting advice in my heart. I could hear Vu Nuong’s words of farewell and marched off to the battlefield, my heart heavy with thoughts of my wife and child, and my elderly mother.

In the war zone, I could never stop thinking about my simple home, my aging mother, and my young wife. Eventually, the war ended, and I returned to my hometown. Upon arrival, I received the heartbreaking news that my mother had passed away. I was overwhelmed with grief. My son, named Dan, was now old enough to speak. The atmosphere at home was somber, and I took my son to visit my mother’s grave. My son, who had never met me before, began crying incessantly. I tried to comfort him:

- Quiet down, child. Do not cry. I have returned, but your grandmother has passed away, and my heart is heavy with sorrow.

Dan, innocently, asked me:

- Oh! So you are my father? You can speak now? Unlike my previous father who was always silent.

I was shocked by my son’s words and pressed him further. He revealed:

- Before, there was a man who came every night. When my mother went, he went too. When my mother sat, he sat. But he never picked me up.

Upon hearing my child’s words, I was struck with both pain and anger. So, my wife had been unfaithful while I was away at war. She had been with another man. All the while, in the midst of bombs and gunfire, I had been thinking only of her, longing to return and reunite with her.

When I returned home, I vented my anger. My wife tried to explain herself, and the neighbors tried to intercede, but I was beyond reasoning. I expelled Vu Nuong from the house. In her despair, she took our child and left.

Later that evening, I heard that she had drowned herself in the Hoang Giang River. Although I was still angry, I took a net and searched for her body, but no matter how long I searched, I could not find it.

One quiet night, as I sat holding my son beside a freshly lit lamp, I thought about Vu Nuong. Suddenly, my son exclaimed:

- Look, father Dan has come!

I hurriedly asked, and he pointed to my own shadow on the wall. In that moment, everything became clear to me. Oh no! I had killed my own wife. She had died unjustly because of my foolishness, my jealousy, and my selfishness. I was filled with regret, but it was too late. I had caused my own loss, and little Dan had lost his mother. I am deeply remorseful, but it is too late now… too late...