Ngọn Lửa Hồng Hoang -  Nguyễn Đình Phùng  
 
 
 
The Primordial Flame
 
Nguyễn Đình Phùng
 
 
Chapter 1
 
Lệ pulled up in front of the Excelsior Hotel and circled around the side to the parking lot at the rear. She glanced in the rearview mirror. No cars were following, and there wasn't a single Asian face in sight. She sat for a moment, adjusting her hair and touching up her lipstick. Making Hoán wait a little longer would only heighten his anticipation—and his desire for her.

She could clearly picture Hoán’s face and his long strides as he paced the small hotel room, anxiously checking his watch. He would be wondering why she was late—or if something had prevented her from coming at all. Yet, he would still hope she was on her way, since she hadn't called him on her cell phone. She had told him she would call from the car if she couldn't make it.
 
She smiled to herself. Her lover—fourteen years her junior—had no idea that if she were truly detained and unable to come, she simply wouldn't call. Leaving him frustrated and miserable—yet too afraid to reproach her—would only make him more obsessed with her. Lệ shook her head; men were truly dense. Thinking this, she dabbed a bit of *Obsession* perfume behind her neck, opened the car door, and entered the hotel through the back entrance.

Hoán worked at an insurance office just around the corner from her workplace. She had first noticed him at a *bánh cuốn* shop on Bolsa Avenue. His fair, elongated face—still retaining a boyish quality—combined with his tall, well-built frame, had immediately caught her eye when he and a group of male friends sat at the table right next to hers. She had listened to their conversation; Hoán’s strong voice and cheerful laughter held her captivated. She guessed he was about twenty-four or twenty-five—an age where a man is just beginning to mature but hasn't yet experienced much of the world.

She smiled. A man of this age is like an apple at the peak of ripeness. Lệ made an instant decision. She wanted to bite into the succulent fruit before her, to devour the crispness of life and the cool refreshment of youth, savoring every moment of vitality without letting a single drop go to waste—leaving no room for future regrets.
 
Why should she hesitate or hold back? The desire for a young lover—to replace a husband whose body had long since grown frail and past its prime—suddenly surged within her, engulfing her like a crashing tsunami. A lump formed in her throat, making her feel as though she were choking on a sip of water; she stood up and walked past Hoán’s table toward the counter to pay.

The purse she was holding suddenly slipped from her hand and landed right at Hoán’s feet. She stood still, smiling expectantly. Hoán bent down, picked up the purse, and rose to hand it back to her. Lệ looked straight into his eyes, relishing the sight of his confusion and astonishment. He had surely never stood so close to a woman with a body as hot and alluring as hers.
 
Lệ smiled and gave a playful wink of thanks. That smile and gaze were reserved for the most special, crucial moments—and they had never failed to captivate any man she had set her sights on. Hoán stammered a few incoherent words, staring after her in a daze. His male friends fell silent, too. Lệ left the restaurant without looking back, yet she knew everything would unfold exactly as she wished.

Three days later, Lệ stopped by Hoán’s insurance office. She had waited in her car after seeing Hoán and his friends leave the restaurant, noting the insurance company’s name and phone number displayed on his vehicle. Hoán worked near her investment office—how convenient! Lệ had come to renew her car insurance, and Hoán was overjoyed, acting as if he’d struck gold. She sat quietly, letting him talk while offering encouraging smiles. Everything unfolded exactly as she had foreseen: eventually, Hoán mustered the courage to ask her out to lunch.

° ° °

Lệ stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the eighth floor—Room 826. Hoán had already called to give her the room number he’d booked. During the lunch he’d treated her to, Lệ hadn't needed to say much. Hoán’s gaze was fixed intently on the revealing neckline of her blouse, rendering any idle chatter about the weather utterly meaningless. His undisguised desire and the way his legs brushed against hers under the table made her flush with heat.
 
Yet, Lệ didn't want to rush things. She wanted Hoán to be a lover—not necessarily a long-term partner, but someone to be with for a while, not just a one-night stand. So, she arranged to meet him another day. The young man—fourteen years her junior—was completely captivated, like a young colt led by the nose; yet, he needed soothing, guidance, and a lesson on the ropes.

She instructed him on the hotel arrangements for their lunch date the following week: where to park; the need to avoid other Asians—treating every person of Asian descent in Orange County as a potential gossiping Vietnamese busybody who might take notice; and the requirement to request a room at the far end of the hallway, away from the elevators and on at least the fifth floor or higher.
 
She told him to have room service deliver food and drinks beforehand, so they wouldn't be interrupted by a waiter knocking at a critical moment. Small yet essential details were needed to make that lunch perfect. Nothing could be left to chance...