Chapter 6 — 12 Million Yuan Compensation And 30 Years Confidentiality

My father wrote three words in his familiar handwriting.

“He pleaded guilty instead.”

My mind exploded. Any clues. Any doubts. In this moment we are all connected together. The fire that year. Absolutely no accident! It's a fire caused by humans! Cao Phuc Lam was the arsonist! As for my father and that person named Truong Vi, for some reason they helped him hide the truth. Truong Vi was even seriously burned. It is likely that Cao Phuc Lam took full responsibility for him. I finally understand. Why is Cao Phuc Lam so impatient to take over my parents' insurance money? Because he was afraid. I'm afraid that before I die. My father revealed this secret to me. He wants to use that money to silence everyone who might know about it. Or maybe... He wanted to use it to soothe his conscience that had been tormented by guilt for the past thirty years. Right at that moment. My phone suddenly rang. I pressed the listen button. On the other end of the line came an old, hoarse voice. It's like being sandpapered over countless times.

“Are you Hua Kien Quan's daughter?”

My heart jumped.

“It's me.”

“May I ask who you are?”

The other side was silent for a few seconds. The voice carries extremely complex emotions.

“My father passed away.”

“Bastard Cao Phuc Lam can finally sleep well, right?”

That old and hoarse voice was like a rusty iron hook. Forcefully pull back the secrets buried for thirty years from the bottom of the abyss of time.

“Are you... uncle Truong Vi?”

I inquired. The other end of the line immediately fell silent. It took so long that I thought he had hung up. I heard a heavy sigh. As if it had been suppressed for half its life.

“He still remembers me.”

“What an idiot.”

“Even until death, I still keep that damn brotherly love.”

In his voice. There is endless sadness. And also hatred.

“Uncle Truong, where are you?”

“Can I see you?”

I want to know more. About the fire that year. About Cao Phuc Lam. And about my father. He laughed dryly. The sound sounded like a night owl calling in the middle of the night.

“Little girl, aren't you afraid of being scared by my devilish face?”

“I'm not afraid.”

My voice was calm but firm.

“I just want to know the truth.”

There was another long silence. He seemed to have made a decision.

“South of the city.”

“Abandoned Hong Tinh Mechanical Factory.”

“I'll wait for you at workshop number 3.”

“Come alone.”

The phone is disconnected. I didn't hesitate at all. Store the newspaper carefully in your pocket. Lock the door. Then immediately go downstairs to catch the bus. The car drove straight south of the city. The scene outside the window gradually changed. From modern, bustling buildings. Transformed into a desolate and old land. Hong Tinh Mechanical Factory. The place where my father's youth and sweat were stored. Now it's just a pile of ruins. After paying for the car. I walked alone through the rusty iron gate. Weeds grow everywhere. The ruined factories look like giant monsters lying silently in the sunset. Based on the stories my father used to tell. I found workshop number 3. The factory roof had collapsed in half. Sunlight penetrates through the giant gap on the roof. Illumination interior scene. Broken steel bars. Bricks and stones were scattered all over the ground. All carry traces of a disaster that has been dormant for thirty years. Inside there are also machines that have been destroyed by time and fire to the point that they no longer have their original form. In the middle of the workshop. A thin, hunched figure was standing there quietly. He wore an old worker's uniform that had faded from being washed too many times. Hair is sparse and white. Hearing my footsteps, he slowly turned around. I prepared myself mentally in advance. But when I saw that face clearly. My heart still feels like someone is squeezing it. It was a face that had been swallowed by fire. Distorted skin. Covered with fierce scars. One eyelid was turned upside down, revealing the scary red flesh inside. The other eye is also cloudy. The pupil is almost invisible. This is Truong Vi. The person in the article was reported to have suffered severe burns. The person my father wrote three words about:

“He pleaded guilty instead.”