Chapter 27 — Cartographer of Lost Roads

Six months after the community consultation, on a cloudless morning in early autumn, the inauguration ceremony of Van Dang Hamlet Memorial Park officially took place right on the riverside land, under the shade of an ancient banyan tree that has now been officially recognized as a "heritage tree" according to the proposal that Bao Nghi painstakingly drafted many months ago.

The park has been completely redesigned compared to the original drawing of the Kim Xuyen Riverside project - instead of high-rise blocks, it is now an open green space, with paved walkways simulating the shape of old alleys in Mr. Tuyen's original map, a small lake symbolizing the old river, and in the center, right under the canopy of the banyan tree, is a stone stele engraved with the names of all two hundred households who once lived in Van Dang Hamlet, compiled meticulously based on the current state records that Mr. Tuyen had secretly kept for thirty years.

Next to the park, a small two-storey building, formerly the site management office of Hai Nguyen Group, was renovated into the "Van Dang Memory Gallery", where Kha Duy Thinh now takes on the main management role, collaborating with the provincial museum to display precious artifacts donated by old families - Mrs. Net's tin box, lantern weaving kits, yellowed black and white photos, and in the most solemn position, under a layer of protective glass In particular, the original map drawn by Mr. Tuyen himself in 1994, along with the edited map in 1995, are displayed side by side so that everyone can compare and understand the extent of the erasure that has occurred.

The inauguration ceremony attracted hundreds of attendees - not only former Van Dang residents and their descendants, but also city residents curious to learn about the story that has shocked public opinion for the past half a year, along with many media reporters who came to report. Mrs. Huynh Thi Net, despite her old age and weak health, still insisted that her son take her to the event, sitting in a wheelchair in the front row, her eyes never leaving the stone stele engraved with the names of households, searching until she saw her family's name solemnly engraved on the list.

Mr. Cung Ba Thinh was also present, bringing a small pot of orchids from his garden to give to the gallery, joking that it was "a gift from a person who once only dared to hide a few pages of a notebook, but now sees a big story that is properly recognized". Journalist Quan Nha Thanh was also present, not as a working reporter this time, but simply as a guest, wanting to witness with her own eyes the results of the series of articles that she had devoted her efforts to writing over the past many months.

The crowd gathered more and more as the official opening time approached. Bustling conversations mixed with gentle folk music emanating from the speaker system arranged around the park, creating an atmosphere that was both solemn and cozy, completely different from the tension and confrontation of the community consultation session half a year ago. Children run and play around the banyan tree, their crisp laughter resounding as a reminder that life always goes on, even on a land that once bore the scars of the past.

"Finally, our names have been recorded," she said, her voice trembling with emotion, when Van Khue came to greet her before the opening ceremony. "Thirty years, I thought I would die and no one would remember the neighborhood I once existed in. Now, even if I close my eyes and give up, I'll be at peace."

Mrs. Quach Thi Nhai, much healthier than the first time Van Khue met her, was also present, accompanied by her daughter-in-law Thoa and her entire small family. She stood silently for a long time in front of her brother's original map, her trembling fingers tracing the drawings, stopping at the exact location of her family's old house, where the name "Quach Van Khoat" — the name of the brothers' father — was carefully noted next to the house symbol.

"You still remember the location of your house down to every detail," she told Van Khue, her voice full of pride and emotion. "Having worked as a mapmaker all my life, in the end my most meaningful map is the map of my hometown."

The official ceremony began with a speech from the representative of the City People's Committee, followed by a ribbon cutting with the participation of many representatives - including, to a big surprise for the entire audience, the appearance of Mr. Diep Nhat Binh, who proactively asked to attend as a representative of the main sponsor for the construction of the memorial, part of the commitment to responsibility that he promised to the public many months ago.

"I don't expect people to forget what happened," Mr. Binh said in his brief speech, his tone much more humble than the confidence he showed at the public consultation half a year ago. "But I hope this work can be a start to atone for the mistakes of the past, even though I know nothing can truly make up for what the families have lost."

Mr. Tuyen, sitting in the row of honor with his family, listened to that speech with an unpredictable, pensive expression. After the ceremony, when Mr. Binh came to say hello, two men, one older and one younger, stood facing each other for a brief but meaningful moment.

"Thank you for being here today," Mr. Tuyen said, his voice calm. "The road ahead to complete healing is still long, but I believe, every step in the right direction is worth it."

Mr. Binh nodded, clasped Mr. Tuyen's hand respectfully, did not say another word, but his eyes carried a sincerity that Van Khue, observing from afar, felt was genuine, at least at that moment.

Mrs. Nhai, standing nearby, also approached to shake Mr. Binh's hand. Her voice was calm but could not hide a bit of scrutiny. “Thank you for helping rebuild this place,” she said. "I hope, from now on, what you do will always come from respect for people, not just for business interests."

"I would like to remember what you told me," Mr. Binh replied, bowing his head politely, an attitude completely different from the confidence and arrogance he had shown in previous confrontations.

Van Khue stood looking at that scene, thinking, perhaps this is the truest form of reconciliation that a heartbreaking story like this can achieve — not complete forgiveness, not forgetting, but a frank acknowledgment, a commitment to do better in the future, built on the foundation of the fully revealed truth.

That afternoon, when the ceremony ended, the crowd gradually thinned out, leaving only Van Khue's family and a few close friends behind, sitting around in the shade of a banyan tree, watching the sunset dye orange across the river. That was the moment, after all the ups and downs she had gone through, that Van Khue truly felt the full meaning of what they had built together - not just a park, a gallery, but the recovery of a memory that seemed to have disappeared forever, now engraved, as solid as the very roots of the ancient banyan tree that is shining a protective shadow on everyone sitting underneath it.

Kha Duy Thinh brought out a pot of hot tea and poured it for each person. The smile on his lips was much brighter than the usual contemplation seen during many months of continuous campaigning. "I still remember clearly the first day you two came to my small shop and asked about Van Dang," he said, his voice full of nostalgia. "At that time, I was still skeptical, not knowing whether to trust two strangers or not. Looking back now, I'm glad I decided to trust."

"Thank you for trusting us," Van Khue replied, taking the cup of tea from his hand. "If it weren't for your 'Memories of Van Dang' group, we would never have found Ms. Net, never would have had enough eyewitness evidence to get today."

The whole group sat quietly together for a long time, no one said much, just quietly watching the sunset gradually fall on the river surface, letting the familiar sounds of Kim Xuyen city - the sound of temple bells in the distance, the sound of children playing, the sound of gently flowing river water - blend together, like a celebratory song for a new chapter that had just opened after thirty long years of silence.