Chapter 35 — Post-Divorce Rebound: Claiming My Daughter and Starting Over

This method is cold. It is detached. And yet, it is undeniably effective. But is this truly what I wanted? To resort to such calculated manipulation and baiting? I look at Nuan Nuan, sleeping fitfully on the hospital bed. From time to time, she lets out a choked sob. I recall the moment she was tied to the chair, her mouth gagged, her eyes brimming with sheer terror. I remember Bi-Hoa Chu, brandishing a wrench and a lighter, her face twisted into a mask of cruel, maddening malice. I think of the chilling, calculated nature of Dinh-Tham Co, and I remember Vy-Vy Lam, who wore a mask for five years, playing with me as if I were a mere puppet in her palm. The final vestiges of hesitation in my heart were replaced entirely by icy hatred and the burning resolve to protect my daughter.

"Agreed."

I heard my own voice, rasping but firm. "What do I need to do?"

Qinh To and Minh Du Tham exchanged glances, nodding slightly. An invisible net was being drawn tight, silently enveloping the now-panicked Vy-Vy Lam. The roles of predator and prey had begun to shift in the shadows. The plan was deployed with cold, precise efficiency. Through a special channel, Qinh To mimicked the tone and context of Bi-Hoa Chu, sending an encrypted message to the secret phone number Vy-Vy Lam used exclusively. The content of the message was intentionally vague, riddled with panic and bitter resentment, implying:

"I don't think I can hold out any longer."
"Dinh-Tham seems to have discovered the truth."
"That box."
"You must absolutely..."
"Do not let it fall into his hands."

Finally, the message proposed a meeting at an abandoned logistics warehouse on the north side of the city. "One last meeting to discuss our escape."

The message was sent, vanishing into the digital void like a stone dropped into the deep ocean. There was no reply. Vy-Vy Lam was far more cautious than we had anticipated—or perhaps, she was simply gripped by paralyzing fear. She did not respond, nor did she head to the meeting point. However, we discovered that shortly after receiving the message, her secret number made a single, brief, yet frantic call to a virtual, untraceable burner phone. Immediately afterward, she effectively shut herself away, rarely leaving the Co estate. She began pacing between the rooms, obsessively haunting the master suite and the nursery, as if desperately searching for—or frantically attempting to hide—something.

"She is looking for the box," Qinh To observed, her voice sharp. "Or rather, she is trying to confirm that it is still safe. Dinh-Tham’s decision to have his men search the premises has turned her into a bird startled by the mere twang of a bowstring. Our baiting message has only served to make her more vigilant, too terrified to act impulsively."

"Then," Minh Du Tham said, his gaze as steady as stone, "we add more fuel to the fire. We will let Dinh-Tham 'accidentally' discover a few traces of Vy-Vy Lam’s overseas financial dealings and her links to his business rivals. Simultaneously, we will ensure that Dinh-Tham 'hears' rumors during the interrogation that Bi-Hoa Chu, in a desperate attempt to save herself, is ready to spill some very interesting secrets regarding Miss Lam."

It was a pincer maneuver. On the outside, we increased Dinh-Tham’s suspicion and pressure on her; from the inside, we began to systematically dismantle her psychological defenses, driving her into a corner where she felt surrounded on all sides with no path of retreat. Following Qinh To’s instructions, I used the modified phone to send a second message to Vy-Vy Lam. This time, I abandoned the pretense of being Bi-Hoa Chu and used my own tone—calm, yet laced with a mocking sense of pity.

"Vy-Vy Lam. Bi-Hoa Chu is finished. Dinh-Tham is investigating you. That precious little box of yours... are you truly certain it is still safe?"