Chapter 28 — Secret Explosive Burning of Cow Dung

The neon sign outside the theater is only half left. The wind blew through the tattered door, blowing old posters away. As soon as I walked in, the phone screen lit up. Messages from strange numbers. *Get on stage.* *Don't turn around.* I looked up and looked at the dark audience seats. An old light shined down in the middle of the stage. Lam Van Thu was tied to a chair. Behind her is a man wearing a hat. In his hand he held a knife. He smirked: "Where is the film?" Before I could speak, he put the tip of the knife into Lam Van Thu's shoulder.

“Don't play tricks.”

“If you don't, I'll make you watch her die with your own eyes.”

Luc Van Da held up the black iron box.

“The stuff is here.”

The man stared at him.

“Throw it over here.”

Luc Van Da did not move.

“Tell her first who her biological father is.”

The man laughed.

“Want to know?”

He looked at me.

“Then you have to ask, why did your biological father die tragically on a rainy night?”

20 The wind blew down from the pockmarked theater roof, blowing the stage curtain like an old piece of leather. I stood under the stage, staring at Lam Van Thu. Her face was pale, but her eyes never left me. Those were not eyes asking for help. It's because I'm afraid I'll get hurt. The man held the knife close to her shoulder, his tone filled with malicious smugness.

“Wen Duong, your biological father's name is Giang Chieu Lam.”

“A photographer doesn't know the height of the sky and the thickness of the earth.”

“He thought that by taking a few photos, he could destroy other people's lives.”

I heard Lam Van Thu's voice struggling to speak.

“Don't listen to his nonsense.”

The man smiled coldly.

“Am I talking nonsense?”

"That year, if Giang Chieu Lam had not risked his life to find the child's whereabouts, he would not have died."

My mind made a buzzing sound. Luc Van Da took a half step forward.

“Who sent you?”

The man didn't even look at him.

“You all like to ask this question.”

“But what about asking?”

“For more than twenty years, those who deserved to die have died, and those who escaped have also escaped.”

“Are you holding some torn film and demanding to re-open the case?”

He said as he held out his hand to Luc Van Da.

“Give me the box.”

Luc Van Da threw the iron box onto the stage. The iron box fell to the ground and rolled to the man's feet. He didn't pick it up right away. He stared at Luc Van Da, as if assessing the authenticity. Luc Van Da said: "You want the film, not people's lives." The man laughed.

“You also know the terms of exchange.”

He bent down to pick up the box. At that moment, footsteps suddenly came from the back door of the theater. I turned around. Bach Nhiem stepped out from the darkness. She was still wearing the dress she was wearing when filming, and she was wearing a coat over it. Her makeup was smudged from tears, but she still tried to forcefully maintain her unwilling beauty. I looked at her.

“What are you doing here?”

Bach Nhiem glanced at me, then fixed his eyes on the iron box.

“I came to take back what belongs to me.”

I almost burst out laughing.

“What else do you have here?”

She gritted her teeth.

“My life.”

“If it wasn't for you, things wouldn't have ended up like this today.”

Lam Van Thu on stage shouted: "Bach Nhiem, what Duong Thuy Phuong stole never belonged to you." Bach Nhiem trembled slightly. She looked at Lam Van Thu, with only hatred in her eyes.

“She also has no thoughts way of saying I.”

“You have money, you have status, there is someone to find your child for you.”

“What about me?”

"Since I was a child, Duong Thuy Phuong dragged me around. She beat me when she was drunk, and when I ran out of money, she forced me to beg for someone else."

“That lock is my only valuable possession.”

“On what basis do I now have to return it to her?”

I replied: "Because that thing was originally mine." Bach Nhiem suddenly laughed shrilly.

“Yours.”

“Van Duong, all the good things are yours.”