“After less than 30 minutes of entering the wedding room, the groom was seen kneeling and bowing to his wife in silence. No one understood what had happened in that room, but from that moment on, the whole village knew that this marriage would be unlike anything they had ever seen.”

Nguyen Duy, 25, is an electrician in a poor mountainous district. The house was crowded with children, his father died early, his mother was old and weak, Duy was used to working hard since he was a child. He did not go to university, but went to help the lake, worked as a hired worker, and then learned a civil electrical profession so that he could make a living near his mother’s house.

Duy’s life would probably have gone on like that had it not been for the appearance of Ms. Duyen, a 52-year-old, rich, widowed woman living in a nearby town. She has two houses for rent, her own car, and a savings account of up to billions. But she was lonely. Very lonely.

Duyen met Duy on one occasion when he called a mechanic to repair the electrical system in his villa. The old woman, who had experienced it, seemed to see something different in this young man—an innocent look, a polite speech, and, above all, a gentle manner that was easy to control.

After several times of hiring repairs, Ms. Duyen took the initiative to invite Duy to stay and eat. Then she offered to hire Duy to work permanently at three times the normal salary. Duy’s mother is seriously ill, expensive medicine. He accepted.

From then on, the story began to turn in a direction that no one expected.

People began to whisper when they saw a poor young man regularly appearing next to a woman who was almost 30 years older than him. At first it was suspicion, then ridicule, and finally criticism.

Duy didn’t say anything. He just works hard, tries to save. But when her mother was hospitalized for a long time, the cost of medicine was increasing, so Duyen made an offer:

– “Let’s get married. I will take care of your mother. I don’t need anything, I just need you by my side.”

It was like being dumbfounded. He had never loved anyone, never thought that he would marry someone worthy of his mother’s age. But he looked at his mother on the hospital bed, breathing with a machine, the doctor shook his head to warn in advance that the treatment cost would last hundreds of millions.

A week later, the wedding took place to the amazement of the whole village. The young groom bowed his head quietly, the bride was bright with lipstick, and her eyes were full of satisfaction as if she had just bought a precious item.

On the wedding night, the room was covered with roses, wine, scented candles and red lace pajamas lying on the bed. Duyen sat on the chair, his eyes did not leave Duy, who was awkwardly taking off his tie.

“Come here, sit with me.” – She spoke, her voice was deep as if commanding.

Duy approached, awkwardly. He didn’t know what to do. He had never been close to a woman, let alone someone who had been born before his parents.

“Do you know what night it is? It was the night I bought you. You’re mine.” – Grace’s voice was harsh, hoarse.

Duy was silent. He was scared. Not afraid of the person in front of him, but afraid of the situation that he himself chose to enter.

“Get on your knees.” – She ordered. – “Oh, my father. From now on, you must remember, you are not your wife, but your benefactor. It was the one who saved his mother. Without you, your mother died last month.”

Duy couldn’t believe his ears. But she pulled out her phone, opened a video of his mother lying in a coma, the doctor talking about the cost and the long prescription.

He trembled. It seemed that she had planned everything. Every penny, every gesture of kindness before—not to help, but to buy and sell.

With no choice, Duy knelt down.

The first kowtow – for my mother to be alive.

The second kowtow – give yourself peace of mind.

The third kowtow – for life has reached a dead end.

The next morning, the maid saw that the wedding room was still intact. Duy slept on the floor, fully clothed, and Mrs. Duyen was grumpy:

“It’s mine, but the first night, I haven’t even touched it.”

The village has more opportunities to talk. Some people say Duy is greedy for money, others love him like he is forced. And Duy’s mother – who is being treated at a large hospital thanks to Mrs. Duyen’s money – still does not know anything about the “price” that her son is paying.

But that’s just the beginning.

The luxurious house gradually became a prison, where Duy was not allowed to go out without permission. Every step, every call, is controlled. Once Duy asked to visit his mother, Mrs. Duyen replied:

– “My wife hasn’t given it away, but she wants to visit my mother? Who raised your mother, have you forgotten?”

Duy bowed his head. In his heart, a small fire began to smold. The fire of resentment, of the struggle between piety and dignity.

He knew—either to continue living as a fed “pet dog,” or to get out, even if it cost him everything.

“People think that the groom kneels on the wedding night because he obeys his wife. But no one knows, that kneeling is a silent oath: either to live as a human being, or to die in shame. And when a man is cornered, things can change.”

After the “unusual” wedding night, Duy lived like a shadow. Every morning, he gets up early, cooks, cleans, and does everything in the house according to the schedule set by Mrs. Duyen. You can only go out once a week – go to the market with your own driver, and do not visit your mother’s house without an “order”. The phone has GPS, cameras installed throughout the house. Even the maids were not friendly – they considered him a clingy.

He is not a husband. He is no longer a person. He is an asset, a “living decoration”, a commodity after being bought out.

One evening, Duy secretly opened Ms. Duyen’s old laptop, intending to find information about the divorce law. But as soon as he typed “l-u-at”, a voice sounded from behind:

– “Want to run away?”

Duyen stood there. No anger, no screaming, just cold. She walked over, pulled out the external hard drive from the drawer, and threw it on the table. In it is a series of photos of Duy sleeping, changing clothes, even in the bathroom.

– “I installed a hidden camera from the first week. You dare to think about leaving me, just a clip is posted online, you can’t live.”

Duy felt his intestines tighten. A kind of humiliation that cannot be called by name. He wanted to scream, smash, but he couldn’t. Because his mother was still in the hospital, and because he himself had signed the loan that she had forced him to take – a “medical loan” in his name, he owed it before the law and no one else.

**

But then, the unexpected happened.

His mother was getting weaker. After 3 months, she died. Despite being well cared for, her body was too exhausted. At that time, Duy was almost paralyzed. He didn’t cry. Don’t speak. Just quietly worried about the aftermath.

Mrs. Duyen sat next to the coffin, casually:

– “Your mother is at rest, now you have full authority over me. We can ‘live really’ as husband and wife.”

That sentence, to outsiders, sounds normal. But for Duy, it was like a knife swirling into the heart.

That night, he resisted for the first time. He said directly:

– “I suffer for my mother. Now that my mother is gone, I have no reason to stay here.”

Mrs. Duyen laughed. But not a gentle smile. It’s a crazy smile.

– “Think you want it? You owe me 300 million. Want to go? Pay it off and go. Otherwise, stay as a dog!”

At that moment, a lightning bolt seemed to tear Duy’s chest. He stood up and walked closer to her.

– “Okay. I will pay. But not with money. At a price you never thought of.”

The next day, Duy left the house. No one could stop him. Because he silently recorded the entire conversation that night – with the same smartwatch that Duyen gave him.

He sent all the recordings, photos of the sneak clips, debt papers, and details of the installation of the camera for privacy violations – to the young lawyer in the district. He was the one who asked him to fix the electricity. And also the one who once said: “If you do something wrong, I can help.”

A week later, the lawsuit was filed in court. Not only denouncing abuse and coercion, but also the crime of infringing on privacy, taking advantage of circumstances to appropriate the body and dignity of others.

Duyen was unexpected. She thought Duy was a sheep. But sheep also grow horns at times.

Under pressure from public opinion and evidence, she had to settle in court – accepting the annulment of the marriage, canceling the debt, and committing not to contact and monitor Duy in any form. If violated, the criminal case awaits.

Duy returned to his hometown. No one laughed anymore. On the contrary, people love him like a person who has just experienced a big storm.

He rebuilt his old house, lived an idyllic life, and did his old job. Every morning, he goes to the fields, repairs electricity, and sometimes writes a few lines in his diary – about what he has experienced.

Once, someone asked:

“Do you regret marrying her?”

Duy only shook his head:

– “No. Because if I hadn’t fallen to the bottom, I wouldn’t have known how to crawl back up with my own feet.”

Not all love is romantic. Not every marriage is about love. But whether it begins with fear or coercion, everyone has the right to choose again, to live again, and to do it again.

Duy has chosen. And he won.