Chapter 11 — Seventy-Eight Billion And The President Has No Heir

Khang's kitchen opened at noon with no customers.

He prepared forty meals, but by twelve o'clock he had only sold seven. The last three slots were bought by neighborhood security guards because they loved the new opening. Khang is not sad. He sat and checked the refrigerator temperature, recording each error in the notebook.

“You can use my money for advertising.”

"Are not."

“I just suggested.”

"I know. But if the shop lives on your money, the day it dies I won't know why."

I sat down to wash vegetables. Khang said he borrowed a small amount, used his savings to buy a steamer and signed a contract to deliver meals to workers. He didn't know I could buy the whole building, but he was still happy when a customer ordered an extra dish of braised fish.

In the afternoon, Minh Chau appeared with two reporters. She took a photo of the sign, then smiled at the camera.

“This is a new facility funded by a secret shareholder of Tan Cuong.”

Khang wiped his hands.

"No one sponsored me. I borrowed it myself."

Chau turned to me.

“Miss Ha An, are you using money from a president to open a restaurant for your husband?”

I look at the camera.

"If you have proof, just post it. If not, please don't put an unrelated person's name in your story."

Chau smiled and left. But that night, an article appeared: "Mysterious female shareholder and special relationship with chairman Tan Cuong."

Khang finished reading and put down his phone.

“Do you want to explain anything?”

I told him about the contract with Vu, about the embezzlement and the investment. I'm not saying the amount of money I won, just saying I have enough capital to not have to live in fear.

Khang listened to the end.

“You trusted him more than me?”

“No. I believe in myself more than before.”

He was silent, then pulled his chair closer.

"I'm not afraid that you'll be rich. I'm afraid that you think you have to shoulder everything yourself."

I rested my forehead on his shoulder. All day competing with files, I only found myself breathing in this small kitchen.

At that moment, Hoang Nam called. My investment company account was complained about because of "untransparent capital source".

Vu sent a message immediately afterwards:

"They've traced the money. Don't transfer any more money."

I looked at Khang. If they dig deeper, the lottery ticket will no longer be my secret.