Yearning

By Anydinh

Once upon a time, in the village of Van Truc, there lived a wealthy family of the Nguyen surname—renowned as one of the most affluent in the region. Master Nguyen Canh was known far and wide not only for his wealth but also for his integrity and rare compassion—traits seldom seen in rich men. His wife was famed for both her beauty and intellect. Their daughter, Nguyen Thi Ngoc Dao, was a celebrated beauty throughout the region. At just eighteen, she radiated youth and grace like a full moon in springtime.

From the time she came of age, countless suitors sent word of affection, with many families attempting to arrange a match, hoping to become in-laws to the Nguyen household.

Yet Ngoc Dao paid no mind to these proposals, for her heart had already been given to someone. That someone was Tran Quy, the only son of the village scholar. Though his family was poor, Quy was well-educated and carried himself with a quiet refinement. Ngoc Dao met him during a spring festival where he recited poetry alongside his father. From that very moment, his image etched itself into her heart—her love for him subtle yet deep, like the lingering scent of lotus in the air, soft and persistent, sinking into her soul.

Day and night, Ngoc Dao yearned for him, wishing only to see him again. But as a young lady of noble birth, she dared not share her heart’s secret with anyone. She poured her emotions into poetry, hidden away in a small box tucked in a corner of her room—a secret only she knew.

What pained her most, however, was knowing that Tran Quy already loved another—a humble village girl named Le Thi Mai. Though Mai did not possess the same dazzling beauty as Dao, she had a gentle, graceful charm. She and Quy had grown up together, and their relationship was no secret among the villagers.

Ngoc Dao knew she had no place in their story. But her feelings for Quy were impossible to forget. Each time she saw the way he looked at Mai—with tenderness and affection—it felt as though a thousand thorns pierced her heart. She wanted to forget him, yet couldn’t. Her longing grew deeper each day.

Every night, Ngoc Dao tossed and turned in bed, sleepless. Each time she closed her eyes, Quy’s face appeared, bringing tears to her eyes. Her once radiant beauty began to fade—replaced by darkened eyes and a body as frail as a willow in the wind.

Her mother, seeing her daughter grow thinner and more despondent by the day, summoned every healer she could find. But none could identify her ailment. Fearing Dao had been cursed, they even called upon spiritual shamans—but all efforts were in vain.

Often, her mother tried to gently ask what was wrong, hoping to uncover the truth. But Ngoc Dao only bowed her head in silence. She could not bear to tell her parents she had given her heart to a man who did not love her. The fear of their disappointment weighed heavily on her. Inside, she was torn—between the desire to confess her love to Quy and the dread of being rejected, between a flicker of hope and the depths of despair.

One star-filled night, Ngoc Dao sat by her window, gazing into the distance—her eyes landing on Quy’s house, nestled beyond the golden rice fields. A gentle breeze carried the scent of ripening grain to her, as if trying to console her sorrow. But even the sweet air couldn’t ease her yearning.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, as if stored up for an eternity. She knew she could never have him, yet her heart refused to stop loving him.

As the days passed, her condition worsened. She suffered frequent fevers, and sleepless nights drained the last of her strength. Everyone worried, but no one could diagnose her illness. In the end, Ngoc Dao could only carry her unfulfilled love with her as she quietly left this world.

In Van Truc village, people still tell the tale of a gifted, beautiful girl whose light dimmed because of a hopeless yearning. Her love for Tran Quy was never reciprocated, yet it bloomed like a wildflower in her heart—unseen, unknown to others, except in her poetry filled with aching sorrow.

Like the moon above—illuminating everything yet forever out of reach—Ngoc Dao’s love remained silent, melting into the eternal night of dreams.

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Let me know if you’d like to adapt this into another form—like a narration, screenplay, or storybook!