Chapter 7 — Forest Keeper

One week after Nguyen arrived at the station, the rhythm of life at the rescue area changed markedly. He woke up earlier than Khue to check Mun's condition, mixed the correct dose of antibiotics according to weight, and meticulously recorded each index in a medical monitoring book that he designed himself, much more detailed than Khue's previous sketchy recording method. She had to admit, even though she sometimes felt a bit annoyed by his carefulness to the point of perfectionism, the presence of someone with thorough veterinary expertise was a great help to the rescue work.

That morning, when Khue was preparing a meal of milk for Nau, Nguyen walked in with an unusually serious expression, holding in his hand the bird net that the patrol team had confiscated last week, which he had borrowed to study more closely since the day he met Mun.

"Khue, look at this," he said, spreading the net out on the desk, pointing to a corner of the net with a few black and white feathers attached. "I compared it with Mun's feather sample. It doesn't exactly match, but it's from the same hornbill family. It means this net wasn't just used to catch one bird, but was used many times, for many different bird species."

Khue put down the milk bottle and picked up the net to examine it carefully. "This type of net is often used to trap birds in flocks, spread across familiar flight paths. If it has been used many times for many species, it means that the person setting this trap understands the behavior of each species very well and knows exactly where and in what season to set the net most effectively."

"Not the kind of random trap of an amateur hunter looking for a meal," Nguyen added, his eyes behind his glasses shining with the seriousness of someone slowly realizing the true scale of the problem. "The combination of cable traps to kill langurs, nets to catch birds, and the logging site you mentioned the other day — all require in-depth knowledge of ecology, not simply petty greed."

Khue nodded, her heart heavy. She had suspected this for a long time, but hearing someone with scientific expertise like Nguyen confirm it from another perspective made her hypothesis even stronger. "I think this is not just a group of people who hunt for retail at the market. There could be a purchasing chain, organized into a system — trappers, transporters, consumers, all working together."

"Trading wild animals and precious wood at the same time," Nguyen mused, "sounds similar to the model of some of the rings I heard about when I was studying and working in the lowlands. Wood for sale to fine art workshops, illegally exported across the border; wild animals for sale as specialty foods, as medicine, or as pets for the rich. Such a ring often has a cover of legal business to launder the origin of the goods."

That idea startled Khue. She had never thought about the "legal business cover" aspect before, always imagining poachers as just small groups, hiding in deep forests. But if Nguyen is right, then the focal point of this ring may exist openly, masquerading as a normal business right in Da Vach town or surrounding areas.

"I need to check to see if there are any forest products companies operating recently in the area that I haven't noticed yet," she said, her voice turning into the focused state of someone following a clue. "Would you be willing to come with me to the area near Nam Dam stream to survey further? I want to see if the logging site I discovered last week has expanded further."

Nguyen nodded immediately without hesitation. "Of course. Besides, I also want to see with my own eyes the living habits of white-rumped langurs in the natural environment here, to better understand how to care for and prepare for the future release of Brown."

Two days later, when their duty schedule allowed, they set out together early in the morning, carrying all their survey equipment — GPS locator, camera, notebook — and enough food to last a long day in the forest. May volunteered to stay and look after the rescue area, telling the two to be careful with a meaningful expression that made Khue glare at her friend before leaving the station.

The road to the Nam Dam area today seemed longer than usual, perhaps because Khue had to adjust his walking speed to suit a person like Nguyen who was unfamiliar with the mountainous terrain. But she noticed that he did not complain or show signs of fatigue. On the contrary, he showed interest in every plant and every animal trace she showed him along the way, constantly asking questions with the sincere curiosity of a scientist approaching a field scene.

"Look at that," Nguyen suddenly stopped, pointing to a tall tree, his voice excited like a child. "Is that a group of langurs?"

Khue looked up in the direction he was pointing and saw a group of about seven or eight white-rumped langurs moving among the trees, the white fur strips around their hips standing out against the dark green leaf background. The langurs move gently and gracefully, their jumps and jumps are surprisingly accurate.

"That's right. This is probably the herd that Nau's mother langur once belonged to," she said softly, not wanting to startle the animals. "Looking at the number of individuals, this is one of the still quite large herds in the reserve."

The two stood silently observing for a long time. Nguyen attentively took notes and took photos from afar with the telephoto lens he brought along. There was a moment, when the sunlight shined through the foliage onto the playing langurs, Khue glanced at Nguyen and saw a look of pure passion on his face, a passion that was not fake or business-like, but a true love for the creatures he was observing. She realized that was what made her gradually change her first impression of him - not as an officer sent to complete a task, but as someone truly dedicated to conservation work.

When the herd of langurs moved away and disappeared behind the trees, the two continued their journey to the logging area Khue discovered earlier. But when they arrived, they were both stunned.

The mining site is not only still the same as the day Khue discovered it - it has been expanded significantly, adding at least six newly felled trees, including two ancient trees that must be more than a meter in diameter. The age rings clearly marked on the cross-section show that the trees had lived for at least one or two hundred years before being cut down in just a few minutes by a chainsaw blade.

"Oh my god," Nguyen exclaimed, his voice choked with shock, kneeling down next to a tree, reaching out touch the cut surface with fresh sap. "This tree must be hundreds of years old. It only takes a few minutes."

Khue didn't say anything, just quietly took photos, measured, and took notes with a cold expression on the outside, but inside she was seething with an anger that she had learned to control over many years of working. This is no longer a doubt — this is clear evidence that this mining ring is still actively operating, even after an official report was sent to the Department, even when they knew the area was being monitored.

"They're not afraid of being discovered," she said softly, her voice cold as ice. "Or they know for sure that no one will be able to do anything to them."

Nguyen looked at her, recognized the change in her voice, and understood that this was not simply a job for Khue. "You're thinking about something more specific, right? Not just a regular illegal logging case."

Khue hesitated for a moment, then decided, for the first time since Nguyen arrived at the station, to share with him a part of the story she had kept secret in her heart for many years. "My father used to be a ranger here. He died eight years ago, in what was concluded to be an accident while patrolling the forest alone. But before he died, he told my mother that he had discovered a 'big story'. I always thought it was related to some kind of mining ring, and now, looking at this scene, I'm even more convinced of it."

Nguyen remained silent, his eyes softened, not with pity but with deep sympathy. "So I chose to return to work as a ranger in this very place."

"Partly because of that," Khue admitted, turning away to look towards the bare trees. "I want to find out the truth. For my father, and for this whole forest."

Nguyen stood up, came a little closer to her, didn't say anything more, but his eyes conveyed a clear sympathy and support without words. "If you need someone to help you further investigate the scientific aspect and ecological evidence, I'm willing to help. You're not alone in this anymore."

That sentence, simple but sincere, made Khue feel something warm spreading inside, a feeling she had no longer allowed herself to have for a long time - the feeling of sharing the burden, of trusting someone outside her family on this lonely journey. She nodded, did not say anything more, but silently noted in her heart: perhaps, Dinh Vu Nguyen's appearance at Ngan May station was not just a coincidence of personnel mobilization.