Chapter 23 — Old Book Repairer In A Small Alley

Lam quickly stepped forward to support his father, worried that he would be too tired, but Mr. Vinh shook his head slightly, signaling that he wanted to stand on his own. The whole hall waited silently, no one urged, everyone seemed to realize that this man was preparing to say something extremely important, and it took time and patience to do that.

Mr. Vinh looked around the hall, then stopped at the large photo of Ung Boi Chau still hanging on the stage backdrop. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice was broken and labored, but each word was clear, echoing throughout the silent space.

"I... am the son... of Mr. Khuc Van Tuyen." He stopped, gasped, then continued. "My father... kept this secret... all his life. He... suffered... because he didn't dare to say it."

He opened the notebook, his trembling hands flipped to a previously prepared page, where he had written down what he wanted to say, in case he didn't have the strength to fully express it in words. He gave the notebook to Lam, signaling her to read the rest out loud.

Lam held the notebook, her hands trembling, her voice choked as she read each line her father had written.

"My father and Mrs. Thuc Hien were close friends since childhood. He loved her, but never dared to say it because of his poor status. When her family forced her into marriage, she brought all the manuscripts and letters to my father for safekeeping, telling him never to tell the truth, for fear of implicating both families. My father kept that promise all his life, but he never stopped regretting for a day. In the diary he left behind, he wrote: 'I hid the manuscript in the spine of the book. I promise myself, if in the future anyone has the patience to take this book apart and find it, that is when the truth should be told.' Today, my niece did it."

Lam's voice trembled at the last sentence, and when she looked up at the auditorium, she saw many people in tears, including unfamiliar faces who had never known anything about this story until a few minutes ago.

Duy Khoi, standing next to the projection screen, added his voice. His voice still maintained the necessary calmness of a researcher even though his emotions were overflowing. "Let me add as someone who spent six years researching Mr. Ung Boi Chau's career. There is one detail that anyone who has studied his poetry in depth has noticed but has never been able to explain: the quality of his writing clearly declined after 1965, and the poetry collections published after that have never achieved the emotional depth of Smoke Suong Lac Ben. Now, with what we just know, perhaps the explanation has become clear. more than ever."

That statement, scholarly but full of weight, made even the elderly professor on stage nod, his face revealing the concern of a person who has just had to reconsider everything he has believed in throughout his entire research career.

Ung The Khang stood silently on stage, his face pale, lacking any confidence like at the beginning of the show. He looked at Mr. Vinh, at Lam, at the photo of Thuc Hien still displayed on the big screen, and for a moment, Lam saw in his eyes something that was almost a real waver, no longer the cold calculating look like the previous meetings.

He stepped closer to the microphone, his voice no longer retaining its original confidence. "I... I need time to verify what was just presented," he said, not taking his eyes off the diary in Lam's hand. "This is too big an allegation to accept or refute on the spot, although in my heart, a part of me has begun to believe that what you just presented is not a baseless fabrication."

"I understand that, sir," Mr. Vinh said, his voice broken but still surprisingly calm. "My father... also said... it takes time. He waited... sixty years. I think... he waited long enough."

That simple but profound statement made the entire hall silent. Ung The Khang bowed his head, not responding immediately, and in that moment of silence, Lam felt a certain change taking place in the heart of the man who was once her most formidable opponent, even though his aunt was still standing next to her, her face full of anger and refusing to give up easily.

The host, not knowing how to handle this unprecedented situation, stood silently in the middle of the stage, microphone loosely held in his hand. A few organizers stepped out from the backstage, seemingly planning to intervene to get the program back on track, but Ung The Khang himself raised his hand to signal them to stop, a gesture that surprised many people in the hall.

"Just let them finish," he said, his voice low but loud enough for the microphone to carry throughout the hall. "I... I need to hear it all. If my grandfather is truly at fault, I don't want to be the one to keep hiding it for another day."

That sentence, although brief, made the whole hall silent in surprise. No one, including Lam, expected that the man who sent threatening letters, tried to bribe, and accelerated the process of clearing an entire alley to put pressure on him, would be the first to speak up to demand the truth be told in its entirety, right in the middle of the event held to honor his grandfather. Lam looked at him, a complex emotion rising in her heart, not quite forgiveness, but not entirely resentment like before.

But right after that, his aunt — the woman who had voiced her strong objections earlier — stood up again, her voice now mixed with panic. "This is still just a one-sided story! How can a diary, a few old sheets of paper, be enough to overthrow a career recognized by society for sixty years? My father is no longer alive to defend himself, you people take advantage of that to..."

"Miss Ung," a voice suddenly rang out from the backstage, causing all eyes to turn in that direction. An older woman, dressed simply, stepped out from behind a large backdrop, walking slowly but steadily. "Sorry for stepping up, but I think it's time for me to say something I've kept secret for so many years."

Ung The Khang turned around, his face changed color when he recognized the woman. "Aunt Sau? What are you doing here?" Ung The Khang asked, his voice clearly showing confusion. He still remembers this woman from his childhood, the years when his grandfather took him to visit his old house every weekend, where she was always the one who cooked his favorite dishes, always telling him stories about his grandfather that no one else in the family had ever told.

"I am a long-time maid for Mr. Boi Chau's family," the woman said, her voice shaking but steady, toward the auditorium. "I have worked in the house since he was alive, taking care of him in the last years of his life, until he breathed his last. I know my youngest sister invited me here today to testify against her, saying that the boss never mentioned anything about this, but I cannot lie to the ghost of my old boss."

She looked around the auditorium once, her eyes stopped for a moment at the photo of Thuc Hien that was still displayed on the big screen, then continued, her voice becoming more and more steady as if each word had relieved a part of the burden she had been carrying for nearly thirty years. "In the last years of his life, the boss often sat alone by the office window. There were nights when I heard him crying alone, calling the name of someone I never knew. He often mumbled, said he was wrong, said he wanted to make things right but didn't dare anymore, afraid of hurting the people he loved more. At that time I didn't understand what he was talking about, only today, listening to Ms. Lam's story, did I understand."

The whole hall held its breath and waited. Ung The Khang took a step towards her, his voice trembling with worry and confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Boss, before he passed away, one night he called me into his room and gave me an envelope to keep, telling me to open it only after he passed away and give it to anyone in the family who really cared about the truth," she said, with trembling hands she took from her bag an old envelope, the paper yellowing over time. "For the past twenty-seven years, I've kept it, never daring to open it, for fear of disrupting your family's life. But today, listening to what you just said, I think it's time for this envelope to be opened, in front of everyone, so that the truth won't stay hidden for another day."