Chapter 5 — Forty Billion And People Only Ask For A Kitchen

Duc Tai's troubles came faster than I expected.

One morning, the supplier sent a payment request to Ms. Huong's house. Ngoc Han called Minh Khang, saying her husband's capital was appropriated by his partner. She didn't mention the new bag or the birthday party, just cried for a long time.

"I'll help you one last time. I only need 300 million."

Minh Khang called me afterwards. He didn't ask for money, just asked if we could rent the house if we sold our apartment.

“Are you really going to sell it?”

"I don't want to. But mom said my sister will lose her house."

“My sister has her own apartment, her own car, her own company.”

“But everything is about to be forced.”

I took him to Mrs. Huong's house. Ngoc Han was there, sitting next to her mother, with a set of mortgage documents in front of her.

“I just need to sell the old house,” she said. “I will take my mother home to live with me.”

Minh Khang looked at the small house where he grew up. Old corrugated iron roof, dark wooden tables and chairs, his father's altar cabinet. If she sells, Ms. Huong will have nowhere to return to.

“Not for sale,” he said.

Ngoc Han turned around.

“You have money but don't help, now you're stopping your mother from selling the house?”

“I don't have money.”

"My wife does. Don't think I don't know where she goes every day."

I understand she is testing her reaction. I looked straight.

“If you know I have money, just show me proof.”

Ngoc Han choked for a second, then started crying.

"Do you see, Mom? He treats our family like outsiders."

Mrs. Huong looked at her daughter, then at her son. For the first time, she did not immediately take Ngoc Han's side.

“How much does your company owe?”

Ngoc Han whispered: nearly four billion.

"So selling my house is not enough. After selling, you still owe money."

Duc Tai called at that moment, asking Ngoc Han to get a signature. Minh Khang snatched the phone from her hand.

"Mr. Tai, I'll pay your debt myself. Don't drag mom into it."

The other end of the line cursed. Minh Khang hung up the phone.

On the way home, he said he felt useless because he couldn't save her. I replied:

"I'm not useless. I just stopped being a lifeline for someone who won't learn to swim."

He laughed, but his eyes were red.

That night, I transferred another amount to the safe fund. Not because of fear of losing money. I'm afraid that one day I will use money to buy peace, then realize I have raised a bigger problem.