Chapter 14 — Hockey Stars Can't Overcome My Figure

Preemptive Strike

Dinh Ba Vong received a call from the manager of Y Duc Clinic late one afternoon. The manager's voice was full of worry. "Mr. Vong, a man claiming to be a financial investigator came to ask about money transfers from the group's subsidiary to our clinic four years ago. I refused to provide information, but he seemed to have grasped some specific details."

Dinh Ba Vong tightened his grip on the phone, a feeling of anxiety rising in his heart. He immediately called his daughter. "Ha Vy, someone is investigating our case. You need to find out immediately who is behind this."

Ha Vy didn't take much time to guess. She noticed that Yen Thao, although still maintaining an outwardly professional attitude, had unusually sharp eyes every time she appeared with baby Bin at team events. She also recalled how Chan Phong, the team's new defender, appeared nearby several times at unnecessary times.

"I think it's the team analyst," Ha Vy told her father over the phone, her voice cold. "She is the only person who has enough reason and enough knowledge about the team's internal affairs to start doubting our story."

"So how are you going to handle it?" Dinh Ba Vong asked.

"I will strike first," Ha Vy replied, her eyes flashing with a familiar cold light every time she planned something. "If she wants to play the exposing game, I'll let her experience the feeling of being exposed first, in a completely different way."

Two days later, Ha Vy made an appointment to meet Do Anh Thu - a female sports reporter who now has a solid foothold in the entertainment journalism industry, whom Ha Vy knew had a working relationship with Yen Thao many years ago through an unsuccessful job offer. Ha Vy chose a clever approach, not directly accusing but subtly sowing doubts.

"Miss Anh Thu," Ha Vy said, her voice filled with skillfully acted anxiety, "I came to you because I was really scared. Recently I discovered that someone hired a private detective to follow me and little Bin, and even tried to access my child's personal medical records. I suspect it was an employee of the White Tiger Bang Giang Team, who had an affair with Bao Duy and could not accept the truth about my child."

Do Anh Thu, despite being an experienced reporter, still couldn't help but get swept up in this dramatic story, especially when Ha Vy skillfully offered a few vague but convincing details - like the fact that an unknown man asked for information at the clinic where she gave birth, or that she felt being followed when she took baby Bin to the park recently.

"Do you have concrete evidence?" Do Anh Thu asked, still maintaining professional caution.

"I don't have direct evidence of that person's identity," Ha Vy admitted, "but I think you, with your experience, can find out more. I just want to protect my child from any harassment, no matter who it comes from."

The article was published three days later, with the sensational title: "Mysterious woman in the Bach Ho Bang Giang team is suspected of hiring a private detective to follow Dinh Ha Vy and her child." The article did not name Yen Thao, but described it in enough detail — "a female employee who had a past romantic relationship with a star player on the team" — so that anyone within the team could immediately deduce who it was.

Yen Thao read that article the next morning and felt a wave of dizziness spread throughout her body. She immediately called Chan Phong and Cao Viet Anh.

“They discovered us,” she said over the phone, her voice shaking but trying to stay calm.

"Calm down," Cao Viet Anh reassured over the phone. "This article does not specifically name names, and no real evidence is presented. This is a preemptive strike to discredit her before she can announce anything. We need to be more careful, but not panic."

But the damage happened right inside the team. That morning, when Yen Thao entered the training building, she felt judgmental eyes and whispers that suddenly stopped as she passed by. Some of the younger employees, who were unclear about her true role on the team, began to noticeably avoid her.

Pho Dinh Khang called her into his office that morning, his face so tense that it was almost angry. "Miss Yen Thao, I need to know the truth. Have you hired someone to privately investigate Ha Vy and the baby?"

Yen Thao stood straight, trying to keep her voice calm even though her heart was in chaos. "I didn't do anything illegal, Mr. Khang. I was just finding out the truth about a story with many inconsistencies, which I believe anyone who cares about the team's reputation should do."

"This is not the time for you to arbitrarily investigate anything," Pho Dinh Khang said, his voice stern. "If this continues to spread, it will seriously affect the image of the entire team, right before the most important period of the season. I request that you immediately stop any actions that could be interpreted as harassment, regardless of your motives."

She left his office with an unprecedented feeling of heaviness, realizing that the fight to regain the truth was not simply a confrontation with Ha Vy, but also a confrontation with an entire system that prioritized image and commercial interests over justice. But amid the storm of public opinion that was forming around her, she knew she could not back down, not because of personal pride, but because she had seen too clearly what was being hidden to pretend she had never seen anything.

That afternoon, she met Mai Bao Tram at the cafeteria and saw her friend sitting in a corner with an expression as worried as hers. "Have you read the article?" Bao Tram asked as soon as she sat down.

"Okay," Yen Thao replied, her voice tired. "Who do you think gave that information to the reporter?"

"You don't need to guess too much," Bao Tram said, lowering her voice. "It was clearly Ha Vy. She had to know that someone was investigating, and she chose to act first to discredit the investigator before the truth could come out. That was a smart and cruel move."

"But how would she know?" Yen Thao wondered, her voice full of worry. "We were very careful."

"Maybe through the clinic," Bao Tram guessed. "If Mr. Viet Anh went there to ask questions, it wouldn't be difficult for them to find clues and report back to Kim Vong's family. You need to be more careful, Yen Thao. Your opponent is not an ordinary person."

Yen Thao nodded, realizing this valuable lesson: in a war with people who have enough power and money to protect their secrets, every step needs to be calculated more carefully, if they don't want to put themselves in a passive position before they can strike the decisive blow.

In the afternoon, she called Cao Viet Anh, her voice worried. "How much do you think they know about our investigation?"

"Maybe they just know that someone is asking questions, they may not know clearly what we have collected," Cao Viet Anh reassured, although his voice was a bit more cautious than usual. "But the lesson here is that we need to speed up the process before they can erase their traces or cause more damage. I will try to contact Ms. Thuy Dung sooner than expected."

"What about me?" Yen Thao asked. "Should I speak out against that article?"

"Don't," Cao Viet Anh advised immediately. "Any public reaction now will only confuse the story and give them an excuse to continue attacking you. It's best for you to stay quiet, continue with your normal work, and let us complete the evidence. Once you have enough solid evidence in hand, you won't need to defend yourself verbally anymore — the truth will speak for itself."

That advice, although difficult to implement in the current state of confusion, is still the most reasonable thing Yen Thao can cling to at this time. She hung up the phone, looked out the office window, telling herself to be more patient, even though every day that passed in silence was a day that she had to endure scrutiny and gossip behind her back from people who didn't know the truth, and a day that Ha Vy had more time to consolidate her false story in front of the public, while she still had to grit her teeth and endure in silence, waiting for the right opportunity to counterattack.