Chapter 20 — Cartographer of Lost Roads

News about accelerating the construction progress spread quickly in the "Van Dang Memories" group, causing dozens of members to express anger and worry that night. Kha Duy Thinh called Van Khue the next morning, his voice full of frustration. "They did this with a clear intention, wanting to finish the job before anyone could object. The old banyan tree in the neighborhood, according to the construction schedule they just announced, will be the first item to be cleared to make way to the construction site."

"We have to do something now," Van Khue said, her voice unable to hide the worry. "What do you think our team can do in the next four weeks?"

"I discussed it with a few older members of the group," Thinh replied. "Everyone agreed to sign a petition sent to the City People's Committee, requesting a delay in granting construction permits until there is a clear conclusion about the legal origin of the land. But we need more specific, legal evidence for the petition to have weight, not just word of mouth."

That afternoon, Van Khue, Duy Khanh and Bao Nghi had an emergency meeting at the conservation center office, along with the lawyer Duy Khanh had previously contacted - a middle-aged woman named lawyer Hoa, specializing in the field of land, and had experience handling a few similar cases related to historical disputes over land use rights.

"Based on what you provide - the original map, the testimony of three witnesses, the document delivery and receipt signed by both parties involved - I assess this to be a set of documents with quite strong evidentiary value," lawyer Hoa commented after looking through all the documents. "But to be able to officially request a temporary halt to the project, we need a specific legal channel. The most feasible way right now is to propose that the city hold a public consultation session before granting an official construction permit — according to regulations, projects that have a major impact on the residential community must go through this step, although in reality many projects have bypassed this step in many different ways."

"If we ask, will the city organize it?" Duy Khanh asked.

"In terms of law, they are required to consider legitimate requests from relevant communities, especially when there is a collective petition accompanied by specific evidence," lawyer Hoa explained. "But in reality, they can delay, citing administrative reasons to extend the application processing time, while the project can still continue to be implemented in parallel if there is no official suspension decision. That is why time is of vital importance right now."

The meeting lasted until late at night, the whole group together drafted a detailed petition, attached copies of the most important evidence, prepared to send it to the City People's Committee next week, and at the same time sent copies to several local press agencies that Duy Khanh knew, including journalist Quan Nha Thanh, the person in charge of the urban section of a large newspaper in the province, whom Bao Nghi had contacted in advance and received significant attention.

"Ms. Nha Thanh said that if she has enough authentic documents, she is willing to write a series of investigative articles about this incident," Bao Nghi announced, her voice filled with excitement mixed with caution. "But she also said frankly, once the article is published, there will be no turning back. Both she and the editorial office will face great pressure from the investor, so she needs us to firmly commit to the authenticity of every detail before starting to write."

"That was a big gamble for everyone," lawyer Hoa commented, her face pensive. "But in my experience, once the story has been widely publicized in the mainstream press, with all the accompanying evidence, it will be difficult for any side to risk using obvious suppression measures, because that will only make public opinion more angry, counterproductive to themselves."

The whole group discussed late into the night, building a specific roadmap - the first week to complete and send the petition, and provide documents to journalist Nha Thanh; the second week, if the city has not responded, the first investigation article will be made public; and throughout that process, continue to collect additional signatures of support from the community of former residents as well as those interested in the city's urban heritage.

Three days later, while Van Khue was working at the storage center, she received a phone call from an unknown number. On the other end of the line was a deep male voice, polite but containing an indescribable coldness.

"Hello Ms. Van Khue, I am Diep Nhat Binh, General Director of Hai Nguyen Group," the voice rang out, making Van Khue stunned for a moment. "I think we should have a direct conversation, before things go any further than necessary."

Van Khue tried to keep her voice calm, even though her heart was beating much faster. "What do you want to talk about, sir?"

"I know you and a few friends are collecting information about the history of the Kim Xuyen Riverside project site," Mr. Binh said, his voice still calm. "I respect your interest in the city's history, but I think you should understand that what happened thirty years ago, whether right or wrong, should not become a burden for current development projects, projects that bring jobs and economic value to thousands of people in this city. My father is old and weak, and his health is not good. I hope you will consider and not let the past events affect the rest of his peaceful life."

That sentence, although expressed politely, still made Van Khue clearly feel a threat hidden beneath the soft shell of words. "Sir," she replied, her voice trying to be steady, "I have no intention of gratuitously harming anyone. But if that land was truly illegally confiscated from hundreds of households, and if that is directly related to the source of your company's current assets, I think that is something the public has a right to know, not a 'burden of the past' that can be arbitrarily ignored."

The other end of the line was silent for a moment, then Mr. Binh's voice became much colder. "I hope you understand, my company has full resources to protect your legal rights, by all necessary measures. I advise you to think carefully before continuing on this path, because not everyone around you is strong enough to endure the possible consequences."

The call ended abruptly after that sentence, leaving Van Khue sitting silently, her hands shaking not because of simple fear, but because of a strong anger rising at the blatantness of the threat she had just heard. She immediately called Duy Khanh and recounted the entire conversation.

"I think it's a direct threat," Duy Khanh said, his voice also filled with worry but undeterred. "We need to record the entire content of this call, in as much detail as possible, for evidence if necessary later. At the same time, I think it's time to speed up the publication of the story, before they can act first."

That evening, the group met again, the atmosphere was tense but also full of determination. Van Khue looked around at the familiar faces who had accompanied her through this arduous journey — Duy Khanh, Bao Nghi, Kha Duy Thinh via video call, lawyer Hoa — and she understood that, even though there were many challenges ahead, even though their opponents were willing to use blatant threats, she would never back down, not just for herself, but for all the people who trusted her with their stories — her grandfather, Mrs. Net, Mr. Thinh, Mrs. Nhai, and even the deceased residents of Van Dang, who deserve to be remembered by history exactly as they existed.

Before the meeting ended, Van Khue called home and briefly told her parents and grandfather about Mr. Diep Nhat Binh's threatening call, although she tried to downplay the severity so as not to make the whole family too worried. But Mr. Tuyen, when he finished listening, his voice became surprisingly determined.

"Don't be afraid," he said over the phone, his voice much steadier than Van Khue had heard in the past few weeks. "I've been afraid all my life, and now I don't want to see my grandchildren have to live in that fear. If necessary, I will personally come forward and take responsibility for everything I did thirty years ago. Just do what you think is right, I will always support you."

His grandfather's words made Van Khue feel a new strength welling up in his heart. She hung up the phone, looked around at her companions sitting around her, the office light shining down on their tired but determined faces, and she knew that, although the road ahead was still full of thorns, they would not walk on that road alone.