Chapter 3: The Mysterious Notebook
One time, while Duyên and I were eating sticky rice ice cream at a small student café near our university, Hải Anh approached us. He carried two small, delicate bouquets and gave one to each of us. I knew he was just being polite, and perhaps he wanted me as an insider to help him get closer to Duyên, but I still appreciated his kindness.
Hải Anh had great taste; he was careful and thoughtful in everything he did. Even the "charity bouquet" he gave me—each flower was beautiful, and the wrapping was simple yet harmonious in both size and color. I was perceptive enough to know what I should do at that moment.
I made up an excuse about being busy and said goodbye. If I stayed, Hải Anh might see me as an eyesore, and besides, Duyên would never agree to go out with him if she thought it would hurt me.
I quietly went off to buy books alone, secretly hoping that Hải Anh and Duyên would end up together.
A lingering sadness remained…
I walked along Láng Street, browsing books.
I wandered aimlessly, letting the autumn leaves fall onto my head, allowing my soul to drift into quiet contemplation. I gazed absentmindedly at the passing crowds—couples walking side by side, even groups of single girls sticking together. And me? I was alone. No best friend, no lover.
In contrast to the romantic atmosphere was the sight of laborers rushing about to make a living. Their faces bore the marks of hardship, their shoulders carrying invisible burdens. They had no time for the kind of noble melancholy I was indulging in.
One woman caught my attention—she was middle-aged and carrying a stack of old books to sell. Her face and hands were weathered with struggle, and I felt a pang of sympathy. This world was so unfair—some have more than they can ever use, while others have nothing. The bookstore owner offered her an insultingly low price, and she hesitated, reluctant to sell. I reached into my shoulder bag, pulled out 100,000 VND, and took all her books. She gave me a warm smile and returned 20,000 VND, saying that was their true worth.
I sorted through the pile, keeping a few books that were still in decent condition and a pink notebook. I figured I could use it for notes or fold paper cranes. The rest I resold to the old bookstore for almost nothing. Doing something meaningful lifted my mood.
Holding the notebook, I traced my fingers over its cover. There was something strangely charming about it. The entire book was a soft pastel pink. When I held it up against the sunlight, it looked so delicate, almost glowing. For a moment, I felt mesmerized.
"The name of this notebook is Love Note. But don't be fooled by its name. Its owner will gain much more than just love."
"If someone is reading these words, they are truly lucky."
Wait… what? There were words on the cover. But when I lowered the notebook and examined it closely, they disappeared. I moved to an open space, sat on the grass, and held it up to the sunlight again.
"If you use this notebook correctly, you will have a powerful harem."
"If someone of the opposite sex writes their name, signs, or leaves a fingerprint in this notebook, they will obey all your commands until the page is full. However, each line can only contain one request."
"If a second person discovers its secret, the notebook will lose its power."
Holding the notebook, my first thought was to get Hải Anh's signature and write a simple command: Love me forever. That way, Hải Anh would be mine for eternity.
But… wouldn't that just trap me in a fake love?
I chuckled at my own foolishness. What if this was just some elaborate joke? And here I was, already scheming.
I hopped on a bus to Royal City. The mall was having its grand opening today, featuring some of my favorite singers, Đan Trường and Tuấn Hưng. I had planned to go anyway—might as well test the notebook while I was at it.
As soon as I stepped into Royal City, I clumsily bumped into a man. He was so solid that he didn't even flinch, while I stumbled and fell to the ground.
I expected him to bend down, help me up, and gently apologize. Maybe we'd lock eyes, the moment slowing like in a romance movie, love at first sight striking like lightning.
But no. He just glanced at me and scolded, then hurried inside.
"Watch where you're going!"
I… what was I supposed to do in this situation? Being the unlucky one who got knocked down and still wasn't treated properly, I could have just stood up, cursed at him, and walked away like nothing happened.
But, damn it. His face was too good-looking. He was dressed as sharply as a movie star—a crisp white shirt tucked neatly into fitted pants, a slim black tie. Even from behind, he exuded an indescribable aura. My gaze instinctively followed him… landing right at his backside. And even that was annoyingly perfect.
What a misfortune.
I could do nothing but stare after that ridiculously attractive back, feeling utterly defeated. When I finally snapped out of it, I muttered under my breath:
"What a jerk. A handsome jerk. A face like a prince, but a soul worse than a dog."