Chapter 16 — Elections and Hearts

On Saturday afternoon, Khang took Ngoc to his villa, feeling both nervous and worried about how his father would react to this unexpected meeting. Ngoc stood in front of the large iron gate, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Khang asked, noticing her tension.

"I'm fine," Ngoc nodded, although her voice was still a bit shaky. "Just a little nervous. I never thought I would stand in front of my family's benefactor's house this way."

Mr. Do Thanh Lam welcomed the two in the living room. His eyes were slightly surprised when he saw Ngoc appear with his son, but still maintained his familiar polite demeanor. "Hello," he said, motioning for them both to sit on the sofa. "Khang said dad has something important to discuss?"

Khang sat down, pulled out a copy of the profile page Ms. Ha had allowed them to take from his briefcase, and placed it on the table in front of his father. "Dad, I want to ask you about this."

Mr. Lam picked up the paper, skimmed it, then stopped when he realized his own signature was on it. His face changed slightly, from surprise to a rarely seen confusion.

"Where did you find this?" he asked, his voice somewhat reserved.

"Ms. Ha, the Student Council advisor, accidentally discovered it while reviewing old scholarship fund records," Khang explained. "Dad, is this the one you silently contributed to the scholarship fund to help Ngoc's family when she was in 10th grade?"

Mr. Lam was silent for a long time, his eyes looking far away as if recalling an old memory. "Yes," he finally admitted, his voice low. "Dad contributed to that fund many years ago, along with several other alumni of the school."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Khang asked, unable to hide his surprise.

"Because it's an anonymous commitment," Mr. Lam replied, his voice regaining its usual calmness. "I believe that truly meaningful help does not need to be made public to receive fame or thanks. I have seen many good students drop out of school because of economic difficulties when I was a student here, and I don't want that to happen again if I have the ability to prevent it."

Ngoc, sitting quietly listening from the beginning, finally spoke up, her voice choked with emotion. "I... I want to thank you. Without your help that year, I probably wouldn't have had the chance to continue going to school, and I certainly wouldn't be standing here today."

Mr. Lam looked at Ngoc, his eyes softened significantly compared to his usual serious look. "You don't need to thank me, Ngoc. Seeing you grow up, excel, and now want to build an official scholarship fund to help other students like you were helped - that is the most meaningful thank you I can receive."

The atmosphere in the living room was warm, different from the constant tension whenever Khang and his father talked about sensitive topics. Khang looked at his father, realizing a completely new side of the man he always thought only cared about honor, status and success according to rigid standards.

"Dad," Khang spoke up, his voice gentle but full of sincerity, "I think the fact that you have silently helped others over the years without anyone knowing is what you are most proud of, more than any title or title." any business achievements."

Mr. Lam looked at his son, a rare emotion flashed through his always serious eyes. "Thank you, Khang. Maybe... I was so focused on teaching you how to succeed according to my own standards, that I forgot to teach you what's more important — how to be kind in your own way."

That was the first time Khang heard his father say something close to an apology, even though he didn't directly admit it. He felt a strange warmth spread in his heart, different from the tense and stuffy feeling he had every time he had a conversation with his father before.

"About the election campaign," Mr. Lam continued, his voice had changed completely compared to the previous conversation, "I think I was wrong when I advised you to keep your distance from Ngoc. Watching the two of you work together, I realized, that's exactly the kind of leadership a Student Council President really needs — not selfish competition, but the ability to build something better together."

Khang and Ngoc looked at each other, both could not hide their smiles at that unexpected but meaningful change from Mr. Lam.

"Thank you, dad," Khang said, his voice filled with emotion. "That means a lot to me."

Before the two left the villa, Mr. Lam called Ngoc again, his eyes containing a mixture of seriousness and warmth. "Ngoc, I want to say one more thing. With the Companion Scholarship Fund that you are building, if you need any support — financially, in terms of connecting with other sponsors — I am always willing to help, not as Khang's father, but as a former student who wants to continue contributing to the school that raised him."

"Thank you very much," Ngoc bowed her head in gratitude, a new belief in the future of the project she had cherished for so long.

On the way home, Ngoc and Khang walked slowly through the small tree-lined street, no one was in a hurry to disrupt the rare peace after an emotional afternoon.

"Thank you for taking me to meet your father," Ngoc said softly, her eyes looking far away at the gradually falling sunset.

"Thank you for agreeing to go with us," Khang replied, turning to look at her with affectionate eyes different from usual. "I think, today is not just a normal meeting. It's like a circle has closed in the most beautiful way I can imagine."

Ngoc smiled, nodded in agreement, clearly feeling a deeper connection than ever with the person standing next to her - not just an election opponent, not just a companion, but something much bigger that both of them were starting to feel, even though no one dared to say it out loud.

The two stopped at a small roadside cafe, sat down on a simple plastic chair, and ordered two glasses of iced tea to quench their thirst after an emotional afternoon. The sunset dyed the whole street orange, reflecting on the old wooden table.

"You know," Ngoc said, twirling the tea cup in her hand, "all these years, I've always imagined my family's hidden benefactor as a stranger, perhaps old, living somewhere far away. I never thought that that person would be the father of someone I met, competed with, and became close to every day."

"Life sometimes arranges strange things like that," Khang smiled, taking a sip of iced tea. "If Someone told me two months ago that I would be sitting here, with my election opponent, after finding out my father was her family's hidden benefactor, I would think they were telling some fantasy story."

Ngoc laughed, a rare feeling of relief creeping into the midst of the past stressful days. "It's true that no one can write a script more bizarre than real life."

The two sat there for a long time, talking about simple things — about Khang's architectural dream, about Ngoc's detailed plan for the Companion Scholarship Fund, about even small childhood memories that they had never had a chance to share with each other before. Darkness gradually covered the street, the street lights began to turn on, but both of them seemed to not want this rare warm afternoon to end too soon.

"I guess I have to go home," Ngoc finally said, glancing at the clock, her voice filled with a bit of regret that she couldn't hide. "My mother must be waiting."

"Let me take you home," Khang suggested, standing up to pay for the drinks for both of them even though Ngoc intended to take his share, a gentle smile on his lips when he saw her pouting because she couldn't stop him in time.

On the way to take Ngoc home, the two walked in comfortable silence, without needing to fill the space with gossip. Arriving in front of Ngoc's house, Khang stopped and looked at her with eyes that contained something that he still did not have the courage to say out loud.

"Thank you for today," Ngoc said, smiling before turning back into the house.

"Thank you for always being there," Khang replied softly, watching her figure disappear behind the door, his heart filled with a warm feeling that he knew he could no longer deny, even though the election was still ahead and the two were still nominally competing against each other.