Top 9 Essays where Vũ Nương retells the tale of the Girl from Nam Xương - Nguyễn Dữ's Masterpiece

I am Vũ Nương, from Nam Xương. The people in my village love and admire me for my gentle nature, grace, and beauty. They hoped I would marry a worthy man and live a happy life. I met Trương, and he became my husband. He loved me dearly, but was also very suspicious. Aware of this, I made sure to always be proper in my speech and actions, keeping our home peaceful and warm.

Our peaceful life was shattered when war broke out and my husband had to enlist. As I bid him farewell at the edge of the battlefield, my heart was heavy with worry. I feared for his safety in the harsh wilderness—famine, illness, and the uncertainty of war made my fears endless. I didn’t wish for him to achieve glory or rank; I only longed for his safe return. The moment of parting came, and as he left, I stood frozen, watching him disappear, my eyes blurred with tears, my heart aching with sorrow.

Days passed, and my longing for him never ceased. Whether it was the lively spring or the cold, dreary winter, my heart ached with his absence. Eventually, I gave birth to a son, whom I named Đản. But my mother-in-law, grieving for her son, fell ill. Despite my best efforts to care for her, she passed away. In her final moments, I felt immense sorrow for the love she had for her son, and I made sure her funeral arrangements were carried out with great care.

After waiting so long, my heart leaped with joy when Trương finally returned. However, fate had other plans. Upon learning of his mother’s death, he visited her grave, but when he returned, he was filled with anger and accusations. He believed I had been unfaithful to him during his absence. I was shocked and devastated. Tears flowed from my eyes as I pleaded with him, explaining: 'I come from a poor family and found solace in a wealthier home, always maintaining my modesty and grace. During the three years we were apart, I remained loyal, never indulging in vanity or wandering. Please trust me.' Yet, despite my heartfelt pleas, he did not believe me. Neighbors who sympathized with me spoke in my defense, but nothing changed. He insulted me and drove me away. My heart was crushed, and despair filled me.'

I had hoped for a warm, harmonious family, but now everything was shattered. Though I still loved him and our child, I could no longer face this world. So, I bathed, dressed, and went to the Hoàng Giang river, looking up to the sky, lamenting my fate: 'If I am innocent, let me become Mị Nương or grass. If I am guilty, let me be food for fish, birds, and endure disgrace.' With these words, I threw myself into the river, ending my life. But the gods heard my sorrow and sent celestial beings to rescue me, bringing me to Linh Phi’s palace in the underworld.

In heaven, I met Phan Lang, a man from my village. He told me of my husband's desolate home, the unkempt grave of his parents, and my heart broke. I was glad to hear that Trương had finally understood the truth and still cared for me, but I also felt deeply saddened by the fact that I hadn’t been vindicated. When Phan Lang returned to the mortal realm, I sent a message to Trương, asking him to perform a ritual to clear my name. I promised to return if he did. He did as I asked, and when I appeared before him, I felt a rush of emotions—joy, sorrow, and an overwhelming sense of distance. We could never be together again, and though I wanted to, I had sworn to Linh Phi, so I could not return to the human world. I thanked him for the ritual and returned to the underworld, my heart full of sorrow for the life I had lost.

My name is Vu Thi Thiet, from Nam Xuong, but most people affectionately call me Vu Nuong. I came from a poor family, but my parents raised me with care and love, and the people in the village often praised my gentle, respectful nature and good appearance. Because of these qualities, many young men from the village pursued me. Among them was Truong Sinh, the son of a wealthy family. That’s when my life changed.

He fell in love with me and asked his mother for 100 taels of gold to marry me. Our marriage, despite the difference in social status, brought many hardships. Perhaps the fate of women in a feudal society is full of suffering!

When I moved in with my husband, I quickly realized that he was suspicious and prone to jealousy, so I made sure to follow all the proper rules and never let any conflict arise between us. Life was peaceful, and we were about to have our first child, bringing even more happiness. But life is unpredictable—when the Cham invaders attacked, my husband, who was not well-educated, was drafted into the army, and we were separated. At the farewell, I could only fill his cup with wine, expressing my wish for his safe return, not seeking any glory or riches.

Time passed, and I gave birth to a son, named Dan. The baby eased my loneliness and longing for my husband. However, my mother-in-law, missing her son, grew weaker by the day. I tried to comfort her, advising her to eat and rest, hoping for her recovery, but despite my efforts, she passed away. Before her death, she left a last message: 'May the heavens bless the good-hearted and grant prosperity to the descendants.'

After my mother-in-law's death, I arranged the funeral with all the care I could, just as if she were my own mother. From then on, it was just me and little Dan. To comfort my son, I would make shadows on the wall every night, telling him, 'Look, father is coming back!' Dan believed me and happily played with the shadows.

Three years passed, and finally, the Cham forces retreated. To my joy, my husband returned home safely. Our reunion was full of joy and tears, but the happiness was short-lived. Upon hearing of his mother's death, Truong Sinh became very upset. He went to visit her grave, but when he returned, he suddenly began accusing me of being unfaithful, claiming I had betrayed him. I was shocked and tried to explain, 'I relied on you because I wanted a stable family, not for any other reason…,' but my words fell on deaf ears. The villagers defended me, but it made no difference. In the end, he drove me out of the house. After three years of separation, three years of waiting, my happiness shattered in an instant. Devastated and hopeless, I had no reason to live. With no honor left, I decided to let the waters of the Yangtze River bear witness to my innocence and threw myself into the river.

Unexpectedly, my story moved the heavens, and the fairies saved me, bringing me to the undersea palace of Linh Phi, where I found peace.

At a banquet hosted by Linh Phi to honor those who had helped her, I unexpectedly met Phan Lang, a fellow villager and benefactor of Linh Phi. Listening to him, I learned that Truong Sinh had finally understood my innocence. It turned out that he had misunderstood because of the innocent words of a child, his own jealousy and suspicions causing this tragedy. Phan Lang told me that my home had fallen into ruin, and this made me feel both anger and sorrow. But despite my grief, I decided to return. I asked Phan Lang to deliver a yellow flower and a message, asking Truong Sinh to hold a ritual to clear my name by the riverbank.

When I saw my husband and son, I wanted to return, but the dead cannot come back to life. Though my injustice was cleared, I could only appear fleetingly in the river before vanishing. I mourned for my son, who had lost his mother, and for the broken bond with my husband.

I only hope that one day, the unjust society will be overturned, and that my story will teach future generations the importance of preserving happiness. A family’s happiness is not built solely on love, but also on mutual trust and respect.

My name is Vũ Nương, the daughter of a humble family. Despite our poverty, my parents raised me with great care, teaching me values of respect and virtue. One day, Trương Sinh, who was smitten by my beauty and character, asked his mother for one hundred taels of gold to marry me.

My husband, Trương Sinh, was a man full of suspicion. Knowing his nature, I made sure to live with utmost propriety to avoid any conflict. Our life together was peaceful, but it wasn’t long before war broke out. Despite being from a wealthy family, Trương Sinh’s lack of education meant he was enlisted in the army as a foot soldier.

The day he left, all I could do was pour him a cup of wine, silently wishing for the enemy to surrender soon and for my husband to return safely. I didn’t care for fame or riches, just his return.

As time passed, I gave birth to our son, whom we named Đản. Though I missed my husband, the child comforted me. But my mother-in-law, stricken by the loss of her son and her old age, grew ill. I did my best to care for her, but despite my efforts, she passed away, leaving me heartbroken as I arranged her funeral.

Three years later, the war ended, and Trương Sinh returned home. I was overjoyed. Upon hearing the news of his mother’s death, he went to her grave, while I stayed behind to prepare a meal to honor both our ancestors and my late mother-in-law. But when he returned, his mood was dark. Without any explanation, he angrily accused me of betrayal and immorality. I was taken aback and tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen. Even the villagers defended me, but he rejected their words. He sent me away without a second thought.

Devastated, I saw no other option but to end my life. Standing by the river, I called out to the heavens, asking for my loyalty to be witnessed, before plunging myself into the waters. However, the goddess Linh Phi, wife of the King of the Sea, understood my plight and guided my soul to her underwater realm, where I could rest.

One day, I met Phan Lang, a man from my village who had once been saved by Linh Phi. He told me that Trương Sinh, upon hearing his child speak of my ghostly shadow, finally realized his mistake. But it was too late. Phan Lang advised me to return, so I asked him to carry a message to my husband, requesting that he perform a ritual to clear my name.

Several days later, Trương Sinh conducted a three-day ritual at the riverbank. Seeing this, Linh Phi urged me to return to my family. On the third day, Linh Phi manifested fifty flower-filled palanquins in the river, and I sat on one of them, sending my final farewell to my family before disappearing forever. Though my name was cleared, the past remained, and I feared the harshness of the mortal world. I vanished, knowing that peace could never truly be found there.

I hope my story teaches you the importance of trust, understanding, and communication in marriage. A family’s happiness is fragile and can only endure through mutual respect and love.

My name is Vũ Nương, from Nam Xương. The people in my village often praise me for being gentle, modest, and beautiful. I met and married Trương, a man who loved me deeply, but he was also very suspicious by nature. Aware of this, I made sure to speak and act with utmost propriety, ensuring that our household remained peaceful and harmonious.

Life was peaceful until war broke out. Despite coming from a wealthy family, Trương was not well-educated, so he was enlisted to fight. When the time came for him to leave, my heart was heavy with worry. I didn’t wish for him to gain military glory but only hoped for his safe return. As I watched him depart, my eyes filled with tears and my heart ached with sorrow.

At that time, I was pregnant and soon gave birth to a healthy son, whom we named Đản. But my mother-in-law, missing her son, fell ill. I did my best to care for her, but despite my efforts, she passed away. I honored her memory and performed the funeral rites in place of my husband, fulfilling my duty as a daughter-in-law.

After three long years, Trương finally returned home. I was overjoyed. But fate, as always, had other plans. By the time he returned, our son Đản had started to speak. Upon hearing of his mother’s death, Trương went to her grave. When he returned in the afternoon, he was unexpectedly angry, accusing me of infidelity without any explanation. I was bewildered and tried to explain, but he would not listen. His jealousy and anger clouded his judgment, and despite the villagers defending me, he refused to believe me.

In my despair and humiliation, I endured his harsh words and actions, hoping that he would eventually understand my loyalty. But nothing changed, and I saw no other way to clear my name but through death.

I ran to the banks of the Trường Giang River, facing the sky, vowing that my fate had ended and that I would cleanse my name by proving my unwavering devotion. With those words, I threw myself into the river.

To my surprise, the gods took pity on me and parted the waters, allowing me to descend into the underwater palace. While life there was peaceful, my longing for my family never ceased.

Not long after, I learned that Linh Phi, the goddess who had saved me, encountered an old friend from her past—Phan Lang, a man from my village. He recognized me and told me that Trương had realized his mistake and deeply regretted accusing me unjustly. He advised me to return to the mortal world. I gave him a golden flower and asked him to tell Trương that if he still cared for me, he should perform a ritual to clear my name by the river.

Shortly thereafter, Trương followed my instructions and set up a three-day ritual by the Trường Giang River. When I saw my husband and son, I thought I might return to the living world. But could our life ever be the same again? Would society change? Standing on a flower-covered palanquin, I called out: 'I thank Linh Phi for her grace. I am forever grateful for my husband’s love, but I cannot return to the mortal world.' With that, I vanished. I understood that the injustices of the human world would never allow me peace again.

I was born into a poor family, raised by my parents with great care, teaching me about virtue and propriety. That year, Trương Sinh, moved by my beauty and kindness, asked his mother for a hundred taels of gold to marry me. Trương Sinh, my husband, was a man of many doubts, overly cautious about our relationship. Understanding his nature, I made every effort to uphold propriety, always ensuring that we lived in peace. I thought we would live a happy and peaceful life together until old age. However, fate is cruel, and happiness was short-lived. Before long, war broke out, and despite being from a wealthy family, Trương Sinh, lacking education, was drafted to fight.

I could only pour a full cup of wine to send him off. While he ventured to the battlefield, my only wish was for the enemies to be subdued quickly, and for him to return safely without seeking glory or fame, only his life. As the days of separation dragged on, I could not hold back my tears.

At that time, I was pregnant. Shortly after his departure, I gave birth to a son, whom I named Đản. Having a child helped ease my loneliness and longing for my husband. My mother-in-law, missing her son in her old age, fell ill. I tried my best to care for her with medicine and gentle words, but despite my efforts, she passed away. I was heartbroken and arranged her funeral alone, leaving me and little Đản in the large house.

A year passed, and the war ended. My husband returned safely, just as I had hoped, though saddened by the loss of his mother. I was hopeful that our family could be reunited and happy once more. However, Đản, having never met his father, refused to recognize him. I tried my best to console him, but as a young child, he was stubborn. The following day, my husband took our son to visit his mother's grave. I stayed home to prepare a meal to honor the ancestors, offer thanks, and inform my mother-in-law of my husband's safe return.

But joy was fleeting. When my husband returned, his face was clouded with anger. He accused me of dishonoring him while he was away, questioning my loyalty. I was confused and could not understand why he was so angry. In tears, I tried to explain, recounting my humble background, my unwavering faithfulness, and my efforts to care for my elderly mother-in-law. I begged him to not accuse me unjustly, to save our family from breaking apart.

Despite my explanations, he would not listen. The villagers defended me, but to no avail. He continued to scold me and sent me away. Despair consumed me. My efforts, my devotion to the family, and my love for him seemed to mean nothing. I could not live with the shame, so I decided to end my life to prove my innocence.

Standing at the banks of the Hoàng River, I looked up to the heavens, praying that the gods would bear witness to my loyalty, then threw myself into the river. Fortunately, Linh Phi, the wife of the Dragon King, understood my sorrow and parted the waters to take me to the underwater palace, where I lived in peace.

One day, I met Phan Lang, a man from my village who had once helped Linh Phi. He told me that after my death, my husband had been deeply regretful, realizing the injustice he had done to me. Phan Lang revealed that one day, their child, Đản, had pointed to a shadow on the wall, calling it his father. That moment made Trương Sinh understand the truth of my innocence, but it was too late. Phan Lang urged me to return. At first, I refused, but eventually, longing for my homeland and to clear my name, I decided to return. The next day, I sent Phan Lang back to the mortal world with a golden flower and a message for my husband, Trương Sinh: I would return someday.

A few days later, I saw that Trương Sinh had set up a three-day, three-night ceremony at the Hoàng River, hoping to appease my spirit. Seeing this, Linh Phi urged me to return to my family, but I knew it would be hard to rebuild the bond we once had. On the third day, amidst the smoke of the worldly realm, Linh Phi summoned fifty flower palanquins to float on the river. I sat on one of them and called out to my husband and son, bidding them farewell before gradually disappearing.

Though the past has faded, I remain haunted by it. Even now, in the peace of the underwater world, my thoughts are heavy with the memories of my husband and child. I know that returning to the mortal realm is impossible, as the world is too full of injustice for me to find peace again. Linh Phi has often urged me to reunite with my family, but I have refused, for I understand that there is no place left for me in the human world.

Truong Sinh was originally from the same village as me. Deeply moved by my beauty, he fell in love and we married, vowing to live together happily until old age. Knowing that he was often jealous, I made sure to always behave properly, never allowing any discord to arise between us.

That year, the enemy forces disrupted the border. Though he came from a wealthy family, Truong Sinh had no formal education, so he was conscripted as a soldier. Before he left, his mother gave him careful instructions. In times of war and chaos, all she wished for was that he would take care of himself, act cautiously, and retreat when necessary. I poured him a full cup of wine to bid him farewell, my heart heavy with anxiety about the dangers he would face. I didn’t expect him to return as a decorated hero or in fine clothes. I only hoped he would come back safely. At that time, I was already carrying our child. A week after he left, I gave birth to a son, whom we named Dan.

Time passed relentlessly, indifferent to human emotions. About six months after Truong Sinh went to war, his elderly mother fell gravely ill. Aware that she wouldn’t last much longer, I was deeply saddened and prayed day and night, doing everything I could to care for her. But fate is cruel, and despite my efforts, her condition worsened and she passed away. Before she died, she sent her heartfelt thanks to me for fulfilling my duties as a daughter-in-law. I was devastated, torn between grief and sorrow. I handled the funeral arrangements as though she were my own mother, making sure everything was done properly. From that moment, I vowed to care for our child and continue loving my husband from afar. The following year, after the enemy withdrew and peace was restored, Truong Sinh finally returned home.

By that time, Dan had learned to speak. When Truong Sinh arrived and heard of his mother’s death, he was heartbroken and took our son to visit her grave. In the afternoon, as they were returning, something inexplicable happened—he became enraged and started shouting at me, accusing me of infidelity during his absence. I had no idea what he was talking about and tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen. He became consumed with jealousy, slandering and humiliating me. I was devastated and confused, but all I could do was endure his harsh words and actions, hoping he would see my sincerity. But nothing seemed to change.

His anger escalated, and he began to beat me, eventually kicking me out. The world seemed so vast, but where could I go? I had become the target of his unjust accusations. No matter how much I cried, his heart remained hardened. With a broken heart, I decided to end my life, hoping to prove my innocence. Reluctantly, I severed all ties with him, bathed, and made my way to the Hoang Giang riverbank, vowing to die and show that I had always been loyal and pure. ‘If I have ever been disloyal or deceitful, let me become food for fish, and let my name be cursed by all,’ I said as I threw myself into the deep river, hoping to cleanse my honor.

Unexpectedly, the goddess Linh Phi took pity on me and saved me. When I woke up, I found myself in Linh Phi’s sacred temple. Although I lived comfortably in the divine realm, my heart longed for my family, and the pain of separation never left me. Linh Phi comforted me, and while I still mourned, I felt somewhat relieved.

Not long after, I learned that Linh Phi had found the person who had once saved her life. At a banquet at the Trieu Duong tower, I was astonished to discover that the man was Phan Lang, a man from my village in Nam Xuong. When we met, he didn’t recognize me at first, but after I explained everything, he advised me to return to the mortal world. I sent a golden flower with him to give to Truong Sinh, asking him to perform a ceremony at the river to clear my name. Shortly after, Truong Sinh held a three-day ceremony at the Hoang Giang riverbank.

Standing in the middle of the river, I sat on a flower palanquin and called out, ‘I thank Linh Phi for her grace. I cannot return to the mortal world, for I have chosen to remain here in the divine realm, where I shall forever stay in peace, knowing that the injustices of the human world have no place for me anymore.’

My dear Dan, today marks exactly ten years since your mother passed away. I once thought I would carry this secret with me to my grave, but seeing you grow up, I can no longer keep it from you. Today, I have decided to tell you the tragic truth behind your mother's death.

Your mother was incredibly beautiful. She was gentle and modest, and from the moment I saw her, I was captivated. I immediately asked your grandmother to bring a hundred taels of silver to ask for her hand in marriage. Knowing I was jealous and suspicious, she always behaved with proper decorum, keeping our household peaceful and happy. And so, our family was always filled with laughter. Not long after, however, due to the war, I was conscripted into the army while your mother was pregnant with you. On the day I left, she did not dream of returning with a title or honor, she only hoped for my safe return.

For three years while I was at war, she became both father and mother, taking care of my elderly mother, giving birth to you, and raising you. With my mother, your mother was the model daughter-in-law. While I was away, she cared for my mother as if she were her own. When my mother fell ill, your mother prayed and offered sacrifices, and she used wise and gentle words to comfort her. When my mother passed away, your mother mourned deeply and performed the funeral rites with the same care she would have for her own parents.

When I returned from the war, I heard the news of my mother’s passing. You had just started to speak. The sacred bond between a mother and child, which had always been my greatest comfort, was no longer there. Without being able to perform the mourning rites, I felt as if I had committed the greatest crime of all—disrespecting my mother. I rushed to the grave with you in my arms, but still, I felt like an unfilial son. My dream of a united family seemed like nothing more than a fleeting dream.

While visiting my mother’s grave with you, you began crying uncontrollably. Despite my attempts to calm you, you wouldn’t stop. Then, you babbled about a man visiting at night, saying that when your mother stood, he stood, and when she sat, he sat. Having just returned from war, exhausted and in need of comfort, I arrived home to find only sorrow: I could not even greet the child I had longed for; my mother was gone... The little family I had left was only you and your mother. But you, my child, would not recognize me as your father.

Driven by my jealousy and suspicions, I stormed back home, furious, and yelled in anger. After that, I beat your mother, scolded her cruelly, and drove her out of the house. No matter how she cried or explained, no matter how the neighbors tried to intervene, I would not listen. Filled with rage, your mother bathed, cleansed herself, and then threw herself into the Hoang Giang River, ending her life.

Though I was angry, I couldn’t help but feel sorrow when I learned of her suicide. I ordered people to search for her body, but it was never found. One night, as the gentle wind blew, with the oil lamp flickering, you pointed at the shadow on the wall and said that your mother was there. I realized then that, during my absence, your mother had been so deeply sad and lonely that every night she would project her own shadow on the wall, telling you that it was your father.

It was my foolishness, my jealousy, that led me to kill her. I regret it deeply, but it is too late. If I had only remained calm and listened to her explanations, our family might have been happy, and your mother would still be with us. Since her passing, our home has been empty. You cried every night for your mother, and I was left alone with my guilt and regret.

Months later, I received news from Phan Lang, a man from our village, telling me that your mother lived under the sea and was longing for us. At first, I didn’t believe him, but when I received the gold flower she had carried with her, I was terrified and decided to follow Phan Lang’s advice. For three days and nights, I performed a ritual by the Hoang Giang River, hoping to see your mother again. Finally, I saw her there, but when I tried to keep her, she vanished into the mist.

It was too late for apologies. Until the end of my days, I will never forget the moment I caused her death. I will live alone, consumed by guilt, and I know this is the punishment that heaven has set for me.

It has been over a year since the day that Mr. Truong set up the altar to solve my grievances. I came back to say my final goodbyes and left forever. I have found peace within myself and accepted life in the underwater palace with Linh Phi and the water nymphs. Yet, deep within my heart, I still long for the human world, for my hometown, and for the happy family life I once had, especially my son. Those memories never fade from my mind.

I am Vu Thi Thiet, from Nam Xương. Despite coming from a poor family, I was raised with great care by my parents, who taught me all the customs and manners, so I knew how to behave properly. At the age of 18, several suitors in the village expressed interest in me, but because my parents didn’t want me to struggle, they accepted a dowry of 100 taels of gold and married me off to Truong Sinh, the only son of a wealthy family in the village. Thus, I had a stable marriage, but I knew my husband was suspicious and jealous. Though he came from a rich family, his lack of education and constant jealousy meant I had to remain very cautious to keep our marriage harmonious.

Our brief happiness was interrupted when the country went to war. My husband, despite his wealth, had little education and had to serve in the army. My mother-in-law and I were both saddened by this. During our farewell, she gave me advice, and I, too, wished for his safe return, hoping he wouldn’t seek high rank but only come back unharmed. He left in silence, moved by my words. Ten days later, I gave birth to a son, whom we named Dan, and raised him while loyally waiting for my husband’s return.

However, my mother-in-law’s grief over her son’s absence caused her to fall ill. I tried my best with medicine, prayers, and pleas for her to recover, but her age and severe illness made it impossible to avoid death. Before she passed, she said: 'In the future, if the heavens reward you with virtue, your descendants will flourish. You shall never forget me as I have never failed you.' I took great care in her funeral arrangements, treating her as my own mother.

The following year, after the war ended, my husband returned safely, just as I had hoped. Although I was saddened by my mother-in-law’s passing, I was hopeful our family would return to happiness. However, little Dan, having never seen his father, refused to accept him, despite my attempts to console him. He was just a child, stubborn and unyielding. The next day, my husband took him to visit his mother’s grave. I stayed home, preparing a meal not only to honor our ancestors but also to tell my mother-in-law that her son had returned, hoping to give her peace in the afterlife. Sadly, the reunion was short-lived. By midday, my husband and son returned, but he seemed disturbed and upset. He then accused me of dishonoring him during his absence, committing unspeakable acts that violated morality. I was confused and heartbroken, not understanding the cause of his accusations. I cried, trying to explain to him that I had stayed loyal, waiting faithfully for his return, never doing anything wrong.

But he didn’t believe me, refusing to say who had spread these false rumors. The villagers defended me, but nothing changed; he continued to scold me and eventually expelled me from the house. I was left in despair, overcome by the injustice. I tried to express myself, but his heart was set against me. Realizing his rigid nature, I bathed and pondered. Despite all my efforts for the family, my loyalty to him, my care for his mother and child, everything had been rejected. I could no longer live with the shame and scorn of the world. I felt my only option was to end my life to clear my name. I went to the Hoang Giang river, gazing at the sky and praying for the heavens to witness my innocence, and then threw myself into the water. But the water nymphs, understanding my plight, opened the waters and guided me to the underwater palace.

One day, I encountered Phan Lang, a man from my village who had been saved by Linh Phi when in need. He told me: 'After seeing his wife’s death, Mr. Truong was angry, but he still felt compassion and searched for your body, though he couldn’t find it. A few days later, he told everyone that one day, when he was alone with his child, the boy pointed to a shadow on the wall and called it 'father Dan'. It was then that he understood the injustice you had suffered, but it was too late.'

Hearing Phan Lang’s words, I felt pity for my husband and son, who were left alone without anyone to care for them. They had suffered because of his failure to understand the truth, and now they were suffering from his grief and regret. Phan Lang urged me to return, but at first, I refused, ashamed to face them. However, as I remembered my hometown, my family, and my desire to clear my name, I decided to return. The next day, Phan Lang returned to the mortal world, and I sent a yellow flower with a message for Mr. Truong: I would one day return to the human realm. A few days later, I saw that Mr. Truong had set up an altar to atone for his mistakes, dedicating three days and nights to it by the Hoang Giang river, full of sincere regret, truly hoping for my return. Linh Phi advised me to return to my family, but knowing how broken our relationship was and the difficulty of mending it, I chose not to go back.

On the third day, amidst the fog and mist of the mortal world, Linh Phi summoned 50 flower palanquins that appeared on the river. I sat on one, looking towards the shore, saying my final farewell to my family before slowly disappearing.

My story is a sad one: Even though the past has faded, those involved are still haunted by it. As for me, I will always remember my family, but the life I had lived only led me to death. I hope no family ever has to face such a tragedy.

I am Vu Thi Thiet from Nam Xuong, affectionately called Vu Nuong by the people. Born into a poor family, my parents raised me with love and care, and I was admired by the villagers for my gentle, polite nature and good looks. Many young men from the village pursued me, including Truong Sinh, the son of a wealthy family, who sought his mother's permission to marry me with a dowry of a hundred taels of gold. This mismatched marriage brought me countless hardships. How tragic is the life of a woman in a feudal society!

Back then, I knew my husband was suspicious and overly jealous, so I always made sure to maintain the boundaries of our relationship. We lived happily, and I was expecting our first child, a joy that filled my heart. But life is never as smooth as we imagine. The Cham invaders attacked our country, and my uneducated husband was conscripted as a soldier. The pain of separation and loss brought by war was overwhelming. At the farewell, I could only pour a full cup of wine to express my hopes for his safe return. I understood the hardships he had to face and shared in the deep longing for him.

Time passed, and eventually, I gave birth to our son, Dan, which somewhat alleviated my loneliness. However, my mother-in-law became ill from missing her son, and I kindly urged her to eat and take care of herself while waiting for Truong Sinh's return. But like my own mother, she passed away, leaving behind a legacy of gratitude to me: "Take care of yourself... fulfill your duties as a daughter-in-law."

How generous her heart was! From then on, only I and baby Dan remained. I missed my husband and wished to compensate for the absence of his love. Every night, I would point to the shadow on the wall and tell my son, "Your father is coming!" Dan, so innocent, believed it to be true and would play with the shadow.

Three years passed, and my husband returned safely. Our reunion was filled with tears of joy. However, upon learning of his mother’s death, Truong Sinh was deeply saddened. He took our son to visit her grave, but as soon as he returned, a storm broke out. He scolded me harshly, accusing me of being unfaithful and dishonoring him. Why did this calamity fall upon me? I cried and tried to explain, saying, "I have always been loyal to you." But my words were lost on him, and even the villagers who defended me could not make him listen. He shut me out and I could not clear my name.

His jealousy grew stronger, and he became more aggressive, eventually driving me out of our home. The dream I had longed for — a happy family — was shattered. I had lost everything. In despair, I saw no way out but death. I cleansed myself, went to the banks of the Truong Giang River, and prayed to the heavens to bear witness to my purity before throwing myself into the river to end my life.

They say good deeds are rewarded, and my tragic story moved the heavens. A path opened in the water, and I was carried to the underwater kingdom of Luong Phi, where the people treated each other with such kindness. It was the life I had always dreamed of! During a banquet, Luong Phi honored me for my heroic deeds. To my surprise, I met Phan Lang, a man from my village and the benefactor of Luong Phi. Phan Lang shared the story with me, and I learned that my husband, Truong Sinh, had sat with our son, holding a lamp, and the child pointed to the shadow, calling it "father." Only then did Truong Sinh realize my innocence. How cruel life can be! The child I loved and cared for had brought disaster, and the husband I adored and was faithful to had let suspicion and jealousy blind him, driving me to my death.

Phan Lang told me how our home was left in ruin, and I could not hold back my tears. Though I was still angry with Truong Sinh, I decided to return one day. I entrusted Phan Lang with a golden flower and a message for my husband, asking him to make amends. When he held the ritual to clear my name by the Truong Giang River, I was brought back amidst colorful banners and festive decorations. But I could only thank Phan Lang for helping me clear my name. I could never return to the mortal world, not wanting to betray Phan Lang’s kindness. And, as it is with the world, the dead cannot return to life. I disappeared in a flash, leaving behind a society that has no place for people like me.

Alas! The mortal world is so cruel! I hope that the unjust society will be eradicated, for the patriarchal mindset that enabled Truong Sinh’s authoritarianism led to my tragic life. Society needs reform to build an equal world for men and women. I tell this story hoping it will serve as a lesson to others about maintaining happiness. Happiness can only be built on trust and mutual respect. Jealousy and suspicion will destroy any family.