Chapter 14 — Language is Wings

They never left. They are in every language I speak. In every line of writing on these cards. In each story those items carry. Co Than Chau stood behind me, not speaking. After a while, he gave me a handkerchief.

“Your father… is a very admirable person.”

I take it.

"I know."

“Then you should become someone like that too.”

I looked up at him.

“Not having to continue hiding in a job that pays eighty thousand.”

That night, I called lawyer Chu.

“Lawyer Chu, the inheritance matter… I will handle it.”

“Miss Lam! You finally—”

"The account in Zurich and the real estate followed the old plan—donation. But the pottery in Berlin, I kept."

“Understood! I will arrange it immediately—”

“One more thing.”

"Did my father leave a letter for me? Not a legal document... but a personal letter."

Lawyer Chu was silent for a few seconds.

"Yes. A letter. He told... when you come to receive the pottery, he will deliver it."

My hand tightened on the phone.

“Send it to me.”

The letter was sent to a hotel in Berlin. An ordinary white envelope. On the outside was written: “Dear Tieu Dao”—father's handwriting. I sat for ten minutes... before I dared to open it. Inside are just a few lines. If you are reading this letter, it means you are ready to reopen the things I left behind. I know you will hide. After your mother and father leave, you may even close those languages. Because every language is tied to our memories—to speak German is to miss Berlin, to speak Arabic is to miss Cairo. But baby... Language is not a chain. Language is wings. Your mother spent her whole life building bridges, my father spent his whole life sowing seeds. It is that bridge, it is also that seed. Don't hide in the dark anymore. Let's shine. And go do what you should do. Dad always loves you.” On the paper… there was a water stain. I don't know if it was him when he wrote it. Or mine right now. The journey continues. Berlin to Paris. Paris to Madrid. In Paris, I interviewed three people in French. A used book seller by the Seine River. A curator at the Louvre. And a Chinese businessman started his business from Yiwu. His name is Mr. Trieu. Sixty years old, lived in Paris for thirty years, retail sales. His story makes me remember forever.

“I came to Paris at twenty-five years old, not knowing a word of French. The first day I was cursed—‘Chinese people go home’. I don't understand, but I laugh again."

“What happens after that?”

“Then I spent ten years learning French. Then another ten years for the whole street to call me 'Mr. Trieu'."

He smiled, his eyes shining in the afternoon light.

“That language… is not for translation.

It's so that others... respect you." I translated that passage for Vuong Tranh. He was silent for a moment, then said:

“This paragraph remains the same. Original dubbing, added subtitles. Lam Dao, your French translation… makes me want to cry.”

In Madrid, I used Spanish to interview a flamenco dancer. She said something, I wrote it down in my notebook:

“Each language has its own rhythm. Once your body remembers that rhythm, you'll never forget it.”

The last stop of the journey is Moscow. I completed the last three interviews in Russian. The night filming wrapped, Vuong Tranh invited the whole crew to dinner.

“Lam Dao, you alone do the work of five translation teams. I've been making films for thirty years... I've never met someone like you."

“You talk too much Already."

"Are not. Without you, the cost of hiring a translation team alone would have cost at least two hundred thousand more."

Khuu Hieu Dong raised his glass.

“Dear Lam Dao.”

Everyone raised their glasses. I took a sip. From Dubai to Moscow. Five countries. Eight languages. My dad was right. Language… is not a chain. It's wings. The return date is the end of December. Beijing winter is a little colder than Berlin, but there is something very familiar in the air. Tieu Manh came to the airport to pick me up. Next to her was Nien Cao—in the cat's pocket, at least two pounds rounder than before.

“Welcome back!!!”

I sat down and looked at it through the mesh.

“Are you this fat?”

“It asked for food on its own! I can't stop it!”

I laughed. Back at the company, everything was different. To Uyen Tinh has quit her job. I heard that after being transferred to administrative position, I couldn't adapt, and the matter with Tran Vu Phi was revealed - someone anonymously posted several times to complete the hotel on the internal forum. Tran Vu Phi was also reminded by Trinh Hao Nam. The interpretation room... is temporarily without a head. On the first day back to work, Trinh Hao Nam called me up.

“Lin Dao, the position of head of the translation department is vacant.”

“You take over.”

“How much is the salary?”

“Thirty-five thousand a year.”

From a basic employee with a salary of eighty thousand, in less than half a year, I sat down to the position of department head. On the day I took office, I stood in front of twelve people in the room and said one sentence.

“I know everyone has questions—how can a person who has hidden himself for three years sit in this position.”

No one spoke up.

“I don't explain. From today, use the results to talk. I will check each person's translation myself. There is only one standard—accuracy. If you can't do it, I'll teach you. Even after being taught, you still can't... change people."

Someone whispered softly: "So serious..."