Chapter 27 — Forest Keeper

Along with the important events related to the case, Ngan May station also has to deal with remaining internal issues. Ma Van Loc, after his testimony was fully recorded during the investigation, proactively wrote a letter of resignation from the position of station chief and sent it to the Provincial Forest Protection Department, along with a detailed report about his silence over the past eight years.

"I do not deserve to continue holding this position," he told Khue when announcing his decision, his voice calm but full of determination. "Whatever the reason, I let fear overwhelm my responsibility as a ranger and a teammate. That is a mistake I need to take responsibility for."

Khue did not try to stop his decision, although in her heart she clearly understood the struggles that Loc had to go through. "I respect your decision. But I hope you know, I no longer blame you. You redeemed your mistake with your courage when you finally spoke up."

The Provincial Forest Protection Department, after comprehensive review of the case, decided not to pursue criminal liability against Loc because there was no evidence that he directly participated in the crime, but accepted his resignation, and at the same time decided to discipline him with a warning for irresponsible behavior in reporting important information related to security, order and forest protection. Loc was transferred to a lower professional position at the station, no longer holding a management role, but was still allowed to continue working in the forest ranger industry, which he had worked with all his life.

"I'm grateful to still be able to stay and continue to do the job I love," Loc shared with Khue during the meeting announcing the new decision. "It's an opportunity I didn't dare to expect, and I will try my best to deserve it."

The position of new station chief of Ngan May, after a period of consideration, was assigned by the Provincial Forest Protection Department to Khue herself - a decision that made her both surprised and feel a heavy responsibility but also full of honor. At the age of twenty-seven, she became one of the youngest station chiefs in the entire Branch, inheriting the position her father had nearly attained before his career was tragically cut short.

"Can you believe it?" May said, hugging Khue as soon as the news was announced, her voice filled with excitement. "You are now the station chief! Mr. Thai's daughter, now takes over the place where her father once devoted his life."

Khue smiled, even though inside she felt an indescribable emotion. "I'm still not used to being called 'station chief'. But I promise to try my best to be worthy of this position, and with what my father left behind."

The evening after the official decision was announced, Khue organized a small dinner at the station, inviting all those who had accompanied her throughout the past journey - Nguyen, May, Loc, and Mr. Chinh, who now visits the station more often, as if rediscovering a connection with the place where he spent his entire youth.

"Uncle Chinh," Khue said during dinner, her voice filled with sincerity, "I think our station needs someone with experience like you to advise, especially in training young rangers. Do you want to come back to support the station, even if only part-time, unofficially?"

Mr. Chinh, hearing that suggestion, his eyes lit up with a ray of hope that had not appeared for a long time. "Are you sure you want an old retiree like me to come back and bother you?"

"You don't have to bother, you're part of the history of this station," Khue replied, her voice warm. "And I think, after all that has happened, it is time for us to rebuild a better, more transparent Thousand Cloud station together, based on the painful lessons we have all experienced."

Mr. Chinh nodded, his voice choked with emotion. "I would be honored to come back, even if it's just to lend a hand."

The handover ceremony of the station chief position took place simply but solemnly, with the witness of representatives of the Provincial Forest Protection Department and all staff of Ngan May station. When Khue received the new nameplate with the words "Nong Thien Khue Station Chief" from the Branch leader, she couldn't help but remember the image of her father many years ago, who also stood in a similar position, and also carried great love and responsibility for this piece of forest.

"Dad, I will try to do this role well, just like you did," she whispered in her heart as she received the sign, her eyes looking out to the distant peak of Pu Cai, a place that is no longer an obsession but has become a source of motivation for her every day.

Loc, although no longer holding a leadership position, was still the first person to congratulate Khue after the ceremony, shaking her hand firmly. "I believe you will do better than what your father ever did, because you have something your father does not have - lessons from the mistakes and suffering that this whole station has gone through."

"I will need your help, everyone's help, to do that," Khue replied, squeezing his hand. "This is not the success of me alone, but of the whole team who worked together to overcome the most difficult period."

In the following weeks, as the new station chief, Khue began implementing a series of small but meaningful reforms at Ngan May station — establishing a more transparent reporting process, ensuring all important findings were recorded and stored in multiple copies, avoiding loss or deletion as had happened in the past. She also proposed and was approved a small budget specifically for the wildlife rescue area, officially recognizing this as an important part of conservation work at Ngan May, no longer a spontaneous personal project like before.

"Finally, your efforts over the past few years have been officially recognized," Nguyen said, as he and Khue looked over the new budget approval document, his voice filled with pride. "Now we can expand the rescue area, build more permanent barns, and even ask for more specialized personnel."

"That's what I've always dreamed of," Khue replied, smiling and looking around at the rescue barn, which has now become much more spacious than in the early days with only a few self-made wooden cages. "But more important than the budget, now people really understand and appreciate the meaning of this job, no longer considering it as a spontaneous part-time job."

Looking back on the past journey — from a girl carrying pain and doubts about her father's death, to a young station chief rebuilding a more transparent and stronger Thousand Clouds — Khue feels a deep sense of pride, not for what she has achieved for herself, but for what she has been able to bring to the forest, to the community, and to the memory of her father that she will forever be proud of.

One evening, after completing the end-of-day bookkeeping work as the new station chief, Khue sat down with Nguyen on the familiar steps, where they had had countless important conversations over the past months.

"The provincial branch just sent a letter asking me if I want to extend my working term here, or if I want to move to a larger conservation center downriver," Nguyen said, his voice a bit thoughtful, as if he was considering an important decision.

Khue's heart skipped a beat, even though she tried not to show it. "Have you decided yet?"

Nguyen turned to look at her, his eyes were warm and firm. "I've decided a long time ago, I just haven't said it yet. I will stay here, Khue. Not because of the mission, not because of the job, but because this is where I want to build my life — with Nau, with Mun, with this forest, and most importantly, with you."

Khue felt happiness fill her heart, mixed with a bit of surprise even though she had hoped he would say this. "Are you sure? Life here is much harder than in the city, compared to modern centers with full amenities."

"I've never been more sure about anything," Nguyen replied, taking her hand. "Comfort is not as important as living a meaningful life, next to the people and things you truly cherish."

Khue leaned her head on his shoulder, looking out at the yard gradually darkening under the last sunset, her heart filled with a feeling of deep gratitude for what life had brought her after so many ups and downs - a second home that had been healed, a sincere love that was growing, and a future that she, finally, could look forward to with full hope.