Chapter 12 — I Hide Eight Languages For Three Years

There were three publishers competing for copyright. Truong Vu left his old company and joined Vien Than, in charge of logistics management. His team last year ranked top in revenue in the entire company. Phuong Niem is currently the human resources director. She once said something that always stuck with me:

“Back then you only put English on your CV… because you didn't trust this world.”

“What about now?” I asked.

“Now… you create a world worth believing in.”

I just laughed. Last month, Fernando went to Shanghai for work. We ate a meal together. He brought with him a bottle of 1989 wine that his father kept his whole life.

“My father once said that the Chinese translator that year was the person with the most excellent linguistic talent he had ever met.” Fernando raised his glass, “But I think… you're second.”

"Thank you. So the first person?"

“Of course it's teacher Tien.”

We clinked glasses. The wine is very good. Ten years later. An autumn afternoon. I received a call. City area code N.

"May I ask, is it Mr. Luc?"

"I am the head of human resources department of Loi Thong company. I wonder if you still remember our company?"

The place that once turned me into a "free translator", where all the credit belongs to others. I… remember it very clearly.

“What's the matter?”

"Our company is changing its business direction and needs international consulting. It is known that Vien Than International is a leading unit... Director Lam would like to make an appointment with you to discuss."

“Director Lam?” I raised my eyebrows, "Isn't that General Manager Ton?"

"Tong Ton retired five years ago. After that, the company changed three generations of directors, and it was not until last year that it stabilized."

I leaned back in the chair.

"What about Vuong Loi? Former sales manager."

The other end of the line paused a bit.

"Mr. Vuong... was fired three years ago for appropriating customer commissions. After that, I heard he moved to a small company, but it didn't last long."

A very slight smile.

"If you intend to cooperate with Loi Thong, please send an official email to our company's business mailbox. My team will evaluate and, if suitable, arrange a connection."

"Yes yes! Thank you very much, Mr. Luc!"

I hung up. Outside the window, autumn in Shanghai is beautiful and gentle. Corn leaves fell all over the ground, sunlight penetrated through the leaves, breaking into bright yellow pieces. On the table is a photo. Photo taken at the company's tenth anniversary celebration. All standing next to each other. Tham Vien, Tien Quoc An, Tran Lam, Luu Phong, Truong Vu, Phuong Niem... and new faces later. I stand in the middle. Laugh very comfortably. Next to the photo is that year's trophy. Silver color, slightly tarnished over time. On the body of the trophy is engraved a small inscription:

“Outstanding Employee of the Year: Luc Vy.”

It was my third year hiding eight languages. It was also the last year I hid it. The phone vibrates again. Tien Quoc An's message:

"Tieu Luc, my book has been published. I sent you the first copy, is the address still the same?"

I answered: “Yes.” Thinking a bit, I added:

“Remember to write on the cover ‘For those interpreters who once did not dare to speak up.’”

He sent back a smiling emoji. I put down the phone and looked out the window. Thirteen years ago, there was only one line in my CV. English, fluent. And today, on the homepage of International Fantasy, there is another sentence.

"Language is not a tool. Language is a bridge."

There were the words of Mr. Fernando in the past. That's the lesson Tien Quoc An taught me. And it's something that... took me thirteen years to truly understand.