Chapter 17 — Music Sent After School

The meeting with Minh Quang took place at the noodle shop across the street, where the sound of bowls and chopsticks was loud enough so that the silence did not become too heavy. He ordered the same dish as Nhien even though she hadn't said what she liked. Nhien recognized that habit, but this time she didn't let it dictate the conversation.

He talks about 2014 with technical milestones: studios, contracts, servers, backups. When Duy heard his father's name, he directly asked the part he didn't want to say. Minh Quang was silent, then admitted that there were adults who believed that protecting a project was more important than asking its creator if he wanted to continue or not.

Nhien did not defend his father, nor did he force him to apologize immediately. She only turned on the recorder after asking permission. When leaving the shop, Duy said he didn't feel any lighter. Speaking softly is not the goal of every meeting; sometimes the goal is just to make the truth stand.

The sound map is posted on the wall with paper circles. Each round has the name of the place, time and person allowing it. Lam uses yellow for retractable audio, green for open audio, red for closed audio.

Nhien went round and round, asking the creator again. One friend changed his mind about the sound of the soccer field; The group took that ring down immediately. No one complained, because they wanted the map to reflect the rights of real people, not the number of pretty spots on the wall.

School noise map

Ha Audio sent the school four boxes of equipment, but the club only received it after the documents were made public. The remaining half of the machines were purchased by fundraising students from a used store. They weren't pretty, but each one had the contributor's name taped to the bottom.

“This one is from class 10C,” Khang said. “The other one belongs to the security guard.”

Lam put a label on the microphone: **Not a decoration.**

The sound mapping project started with small groups walking around the school after school. Each person chooses a place, takes up to thirty seconds and tells a story. Nhien taught how to stand away from the sound source, Duy taught how to listen before shooting, Khang gave out memory cards, Lam checked the consent form.

Class 10A records the sound of a water vending machine. One person said the sound of a can falling reminded him of the first time he met her. Class 11B recorded the sound of the library door, where a teacher was waiting for students to return books late. The football team heard the sound of their shoes hitting the floor and argued about a missed throw.

There was a clumsy sound, and some parts were damaged by the wind, but no one considered that a mistake that needed to be erased. Nhien created a "notes" column in the repository, so everyone knows why that word is kept.

Duy likes the recording in the garage: the sound of a car locking, the sound of people calling each other, the sound of a bell ringing with the last note missing. He said it like an unfinished sentence.

“Does the unfinished sentence need to be corrected?” Nhien asked.

“No. Maybe the listener likes to fill in on their own.”

Meanwhile, the hidden account continued to send files. There were no more threats, just old sounds: the sound of rain, the sound of a door, the sound of children counting. Nhien does not open alone. The whole group records the time, copies it as it is, and saves it offline.

Lam discovered one detail: every file was sent after the club recorded similar audio. It's as if the sender listened to the program and then responded with old memories.

“Maybe they're in school,” she said.

“Or monitor your mailbox,” Khang replied.

“Neither possibility makes me happy.”

Ms. Mai invited an independent legal expert to speak to the club. She explains copyright, moral rights and the difference between “permission to use” versus “full transfer”. Duy took notes. Lam asked if a person laughing in the background doesn't know if it can be used. The expert responded that permission should be sought if laughter could be identified.

“So does the Chairman have the right to its running sound?” Lam asked.

“If you determine that it is a creative subject, you will have a very difficult case.”

The Chairman crawled across the table just in time, making the whole room laugh. Nhien added to the process: sounds that are not human do not need a signature, but must still respect the environment and not harm animals.

In the evening, Nhien and Duy adjusted the map on the big screen. Sound points appear in circles: school gate, football field, cafeteria, medical room, phoenix tree, room 3C. When each point is turned on, the sound transitions seamlessly into a natural beat.

“If you play according to the map, listeners can go through the whole school by ear,” Nhien said.

“It's the end of the month program.”

“And before that?”

“Fundraising Program.”

They planned an open listening night, no big stage, just headphones, wooden chairs and sound stations. Each person can contribute a small amount or a story. Event name: **After the Last Bell**.

Minh Quang requested the company to support projection equipment. Nhien asked him to only provide technical support, not to place a logo. He agreed, even sending a sound engineer who worked with Duy's father. The engineer, named Bao, recognized tape box 03 and said he remembered Huy always calling the music "a letter without an envelope".

Bao helped check the recording, but refused to interfere with the content. "I used to think technicians just needed to make clean sounds. Later I understood, sometimes the crackling sound is a part of history."

Duy asked him about his last day at Reu Records. Bao remembers a side door opened at 5:16 p.m., Minh Quang's account accessed the system, then someone brought the tape out. He couldn't see his face, only the square ring.

“Does Dat have a ring?” Nhien asked.

"Are not."

Minh Quang stood next to him, silent. He had a square silver ring, but he took it off a long time ago.

That night, Nhien asked his father. He said the ring was a gift from Vu Tan, used to unlock the old warehouse. He once lent it to Vu when the electronic locking system broke down.

“So he has the key?”

"Maybe."

“Dad knew and still let him approach?”

“I didn't know he kept the key.”

“Dad, you can ask.”

Minh Quang called a lawyer. Warehouse records show that a spare key was issued to Vu Tan, but the recovery records do not have a signature. Nhien sent the information to Ms. Mai.

Everything begins to reconnect: the ring, the keys, the blue car, the missing tape. But there's still one point missing: who is the person sending the hidden file?

Before “After the Last Bell” night, the group distributed a new number. Lam asks each person a question, without writing down their names if they don't want to. One friend said she wanted to keep her mother's call to come home for dinner. Another friend said he wanted to keep his old friend's laughter even though he had changed schools. Duy plays the new guitar part under the last bell.

Nhien sat behind the control desk. She doesn't think about logos, companies or contracts. She thought about the possibility of an audio being sent without anyone buying it.

At the end of the program, an unfamiliar female voice said on the loudspeaker: "Thank you for keeping the name of the absent person."

No one knows where that voice came from. When Khang checked the system, file 06 had disappeared by itself. There's only one log line left:

**user: M.Q — time: 17:16.**

Nhien asked Minh Quang about the log line. Grandfather did not deny the account he used, but said at that time many people knew the password. He proposed opening the entire system log for the school to independently examine.

“Aren't you afraid of being drawn to the wrong conclusion?”

“I'm more scared if no one checks.”

That was a different answer from the father who locked the listening room. Take note, don't turn it into automatic forgiveness.

In the sound mapping project, a student sent in the sound of the medical room door and asked to remain anonymous. Ms. Mai asked why; You said you didn't want anyone to know you cried there. The team tagged anonymously and asked no further questions.

Duy sent a guitar piece from the studio, but with the condition that it would only be listened to internally. Lam respects. She said listeners want to know even more when they are rejected, but privacy is more important than listeners.

Khanh tried the map display feature on the phone screen. He does not collect user locations, only broadcasts publicly available audio points. Ran examined the code and discovered a third-party library sending analytics data. She removed the library, although that made the interface a bit slower.

“Lighter but safer,” she said.

Lam replied: "This sentence can be hung on the door of the room."

The next day, another school asked to use the map for class. The group submitted an educational license, requesting attribution and not duplicating individual voices. This is the first time Open Frequency has been used outside of Dawn.

Aunt Huong heard the news and gave her a radio. She said: "Old things can travel far if you know how to ask for directions."

Duy called from the studio and said he had recorded the sound of a train at the end of school time. Nhien heard and saw a rhythm in the noise that was very similar to a school yard. The two started exchanging sounds instead of just exchanging messages.

File 06 is still in storage, but is no longer the center of every conversation. The new sounds created a broader narrative where no one had to fight for a microphone.

“Aren't you afraid of being drawn to the wrong conclusion?”

“I'm more scared if no one checks.”

That was a different answer from the father who locked the listening room. Take note, don't turn it into automatic forgiveness.

“Lighter but safer,” she said.

Lam replied: "This sentence can be hung on the door of the room."

Aunt Huong heard the news and gave her a radio. She said: "Old things can travel far if you know how to ask for directions."

“Aren't you afraid of being drawn to the wrong conclusion?”

“I'm more scared if no one checks.”

That was a different answer from the father who locked the listening room. Take note, don't turn it into automatic forgiveness.

“Lighter but safer,” she said.

Lam replied: "This sentence can be hung on the door of the room."

Aunt Huong heard the news and gave her a radio. She said: "Old things can travel far if you know how to ask for directions."