Chapter 10 — Stupid But Strong

Lam Nha Thu is not someone who is easily fooled. During more than six years of working as Bach Duy's manager, she learned how to read every smallest expression on his face, every unusual silence in his voice, every time he deliberately avoided a question. And during the past two months, she realized that Bach Duy was hiding something from her - something that made him happier, more diligent in composing, but also more mysterious than usual.

She began to pay attention to his schedule, realizing that during free time he always drove somewhere alone, not allowing a personal driver or assistant to go with him, always using the excuse "needing private time to think." At first, she didn't pay much attention, thinking that an artist also needs her own quiet time. But as the frequency of those "disappearances" became more and more frequent, her professional curiosity began to arise.

One afternoon, when Bach Duy announced that he needed to take a break between two rehearsals to "take care of personal matters," Lam Nha Thu decided to secretly follow him, not because she suspected anything bad, but because of the responsibility to protect the image of an artist she had devoted her heart to building for many years. She drove behind at a safe distance, witnessed Bach Duy parking his car a few blocks away from a small cafe, wearing a hat and mask, then walking inside.

She parked the car, observed through the foggy glass window from afar, saw him sitting down in a familiar corner, and a few minutes later, a woman came to bring him coffee - not with the usual customer service attitude, but with a clear intimacy and closeness in every gesture. Lam Nha Thu squinted her eyes to observe more closely, realizing that the way the two people talked, the way their eyes exchanged, had a nuance that went beyond the relationship between a normal customer and shop owner.

She didn't go inside, just quietly left, but that night, she found out all the information about Vom La restaurant and its owner - Nhieu Tang Ninh. When she looked further, she discovered a detail that made her cold: the name Nhieu Tang Ninh had appeared in a few old articles, many years ago, as the legal guardian of an orphan teenager named Tu Bach Duy.

The next morning, Lam Nha Thu called Bach Duy into his private office, closed the door, and placed a cup of tea in front of him with an unusually serious expression.

"You know Nhieu Tang Ninh, the owner of Vom La restaurant, right?" she asked directly, without beating around the bush.

Bach Duy was stunned, the cup of tea in his hand stopped midway. "You… how did you know that?"

"I'm your manager, my job is to know everything that can affect your image," Lam Nha Thu replied, her voice was not harsh but serious enough for Bach Duy to understand that she was taking this issue very seriously. "I need you to tell the truth. Who is she to you?"

Bach Duy was silent for a long time, considering whether to hide it or tell the truth. In the end, he decided not to hide anymore. "She was my legal guardian after my parents died. I lived with her for two years, until I turned eighteen."

"And then?" Lam Nha Thu continued asking, her eyes searching.

"After that, she kicked me out of the house and cut off contact completely. I didn't see her again for six years, until a few months ago, when I happened to stop by her shop in the rain." Bach Duy told the whole story, his voice gradually becoming emotional when mentioning old memories.

Lam Nha Thu listened attentively, without interrupting, but her face became increasingly worried. When Bach Duy finished speaking, she sighed and rubbed her temples.

"Bach Duy, do you understand the severity of this?" she said, her voice heavy. "A romantic relationship with someone who was once your legal guardian — even though you are now an adult, even though the guardianship relationship has long since ended — is still an extremely sensitive topic for the public and the media. If this is exposed in a negative light, the career you have built over the past six years could collapse overnight."

"I know," Bach Duy replied, his voice determined. "But I don't think I'm doing anything wrong. Ms. Ninh has never taken advantage of her position as guardian to do anything inappropriate to me, even now. Everything between us only really started when we were both completely independent, six years after the guardianship relationship ended."

"I believe you," Lam Nha Thu said, her voice softening a bit. "But the public does not always see things fairly and with full context. They just need to see the words 'old guardian' to create a storm of public opinion, regardless of the truth behind it."

Bach Duy clenched his fists, trying to suppress the resentment rising in his heart. "So what do you want me to do? Stop all contact with her again?"

"I didn't say that," Lam Nha Thu replied, her voice becoming more cautious. "I just want you to be really careful. At least for now, when the relationship between you two is still unclear, when you're not ready to face public opinion, keep everything as private as possible. Don't let anyone else take pictures of you two together like I just did yesterday."

Bach Duy remained silent and nodded, although in his heart he could not help but feel heavy at that warning. He clearly understood that Lam Nha Thu had no bad intentions, she was just doing her responsibilities as a manager who always puts the safety of her artists first. But that warning also made him realize more clearly than ever that the relationship between him and Tang Ninh, no matter how pure and legitimate, is still at risk of being viewed incorrectly by those who only look at the surface of the story.

That night, he arrived at Vom La restaurant later than usual, his thoughtful face different from usual. Tang Ninh immediately noticed the change and kept asking until he recounted the entire conversation with Lam Nha Thu.

"She's right," Tang Ninh said, her voice low, the old fear creeping back into her heart. "Maybe you should back off, so I don't have to take any more risks because of you."

"No," Bach Duy replied immediately, his voice more decisive than she had ever heard from him. "I let you decide for me once, and we both paid the price with six years of separation. This time, I won't let that happen again. If there's a risk, we'll face it together. It's not you alone who has to bear it, nor me alone who decides for you."

Tang Ninh looked at him, seeing in his eyes a maturity and determination that she had never seen in an eighteen-year-old boy before. She didn't respond right away, but in her heart, something began to change — no longer a fear of wanting to run away, but a fragile belief that this time, perhaps they could overcome all the storms together, instead of once again letting fear separate them both.

As for Lam Nha Thu, after the conversation with Bach Duy, she did not immediately report the incident to the entertainment company's board of directors as the usual process requires. She sat alone in the office, weighing her professional responsibilities and the feelings she had for Bach Duy during her six years of companionship, no different from a younger brother she always wanted to protect. She decided to temporarily keep this information private, just silently monitoring the situation, telling herself that she would intervene immediately if she saw signs of real danger that threatened his career.

But she couldn't completely get rid of the constant worry in her heart. She began to proactively review media channels, showbiz forums, and celebrity news hunting groups to promptly detect any signs that the relationship between Bach Duy and Tang Ninh had fallen under the radar of the media or professional paparazzi. She did not know that cautious action would later become an important key to help her react promptly to the impending storm of public opinion.

Late that night, before turning off the office lights, Lam Nha Thu reopened the photos she had secretly taken through the coffee shop window, zoomed in on Tang Ninh's face in the photos, trying to read something from that woman's eyes. She saw in it not any calculation or exploitation, but a genuine gentleness, mixed with the shyness of someone trying to protect something precious. She deleted the photos from her phone, telling herself she would give the two of them more time before deciding what to do.