Chapter 3 — Sunlight on the Red Book

Mr. Ba Dat's small house is hidden behind a row of old areca nut trees, not far from the commune market. The tiled roof has faded over the years but still exudes the neat and tidy look of a person who has worked for the state for many years. Ha Vy, along with Mai Anh to support, stood in front of the bamboo fence gate and called out softly.

"Yes, who is it?" A trembling voice, tinged with age, rang out from inside the house, then a small, white-haired old man slowly walked out to open the gate.

"Hello, I'm Ha Vy, a new commune cadastral officer," she introduced, her voice polite. "I want to ask you a few things related to cadastral surveying work when you were still working, is that okay?"

Mr. Ba Dat's eyes flashed with something indescribable - not necessarily surprise, but more like a long-ingrained wariness - before he nodded and invited the two into the house. "Okay, okay, let's go inside and have a drink first," he said, his voice trying to stay warm but his hands holding the teapot were shaking a bit.

In a simple house, neatly furnished with a few old photos hanging on the wall, Ha Vy gently asked the question. "Yes, I am handling the land dispute file of Mr. Lam Van Duc's family. The coconut garden and the longan garden are adjacent to Mr. Sau Tam's land. I found a hand-drawn map from the survey in the year ninety-nine, but the boundary on it does not match the inventory book updated in the year two thousand and three. I wonder if you still remember, was there any adjustment to the boundary of that land at that time?"

Mr. Ba Dat's hand trembled slightly, the tea cup in his hand almost fell onto the table. "That... was a long time ago," he said, his voice cracking, avoiding Ha Vy's eyes. "You're old, your memory isn't as sharp as before, how can you remember every little detail?"

"I understand, it's been a long time," Ha Vy replied, her voice patient but no less sincere. "But if you remember anything, even a small detail, it will be of great help to the just settlement of this dispute, sir."

Mr. Ba Dat was silent for a long time, his eyes looking far into the small yard in front of the house, where a few chickens were digging in the ground looking for food under the shade of an old areca tree. "Back then... measuring work was still very rudimentary, there was a lack of tools, and little human resources," he said, his voice slow, as if trying to recall a long-buried memory. "Sometimes, measurements cannot be absolutely as accurate as they are now, and errors are unavoidable."

"I understand that, sir," Ha Vy replied, her voice gentle but still firm. "But the difference I discovered is not a small error due to crude measuring techniques, but a fairly wide strip of land, running along the entire western boundary. I think, this can hardly be just a random mistake."

Mr. Ba Dat's face turned visibly pale, his hands tightened around the hem of his shirt, as if trying to suppress some intense emotion welling up in his heart. "You... you're young, you don't understand all the complexities of that time," he said, his voice visibly shaking. "Some things are best left in the past and not brought up again."

That statement, although vague, further reinforced the doubts in Ha Vy's heart. She realized that Mr. Ba Dat was deliberately avoiding, and behind that avoidance, there was definitely something hidden that he did not want, or dare not, say.

"Sir," Ha Vy said, her voice was gentle but full of sincerity, "I didn't come here to blame or make things difficult for you. I just want to find the truth, to ensure justice for everyone, including those who may have silently suffered for many years without knowing it. If you know anything, I hope you can share, even if just a small part."

Mr. Ba Dat bowed his head, his thin shoulders shaking slightly. “Give me more time,” he said, his voice choked. "You need to think carefully. This... is not as simple as you think."

Realizing the torment clearly visible on the old man's face, Ha Vy decided not to add more pressure. “I understand, sir,” she said, her voice gentle. "I won't be in a hurry. But I hope, when you're ready, please contact me. The truth, no matter how difficult, needs to be told in the end, so that everyone can truly live in peace."

On the way back, Mai Anh could not hide her curiosity and worry. "Do you really think Mr. Ba Dat is hiding something?" she asked.

"I'm sure about that," Ha Vy replied, her voice thoughtful. "His reaction is not like someone who simply doesn't remember the past clearly. It is the reaction of someone who has been carrying a huge psychological burden for many years."

Mai Anh sighed, her eyes filled with worry. "If it is true that there have been errors in cadastral surveying since then, this case will be much more complicated than a normal family dispute. It may even involve the responsibility of state agencies."

"I know," Ha Vy replied, her voice determined. "But no matter how complicated, I still believe, the truth needs to be clarified. That is the most important thing, even though it may make many people uncomfortable."

Returning to the office, Ha Vy gave a preliminary report of the situation to Mr. Tran Quoc Hung by phone, without going into details because there was no authentic evidence, only raising initial suspicions about abnormalities in old cadastral records. Mr. Hung, after hearing it, was silent for a long time before speaking.

"If it's as you suspect, this will be a rather sensitive matter," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Not only because it concerns the people's rights, but also because it can affect the reputation of the land management agency itself over many periods of time. Just be careful to collect all the evidence first, don't rush to conclusions or announce anything when you're not sure."

"Yes, I understand, sir," Ha Vy replied. "I will continue to verify thoroughly before officially reporting."

That evening, while sitting alone in a small motel room, reviewing all of the day's notes, Ha Vy received an unexpected call from an unfamiliar number. Picking up the phone, Mr. Ba Dat's familiar voice rang out, more trembling than in the afternoon.

"Miss Vy, right?" he asked, his voice soft as if he was afraid someone would hear. "He... he has something to tell you, but not now. Give him a few more days to think it over, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Ha Vy replied, trying to keep her voice calm even though she couldn't help but feel nervous. "I will wait for you. I just hope you don't worry too much. I just want to find the truth in the most fair way, not to blame or make things difficult for anyone."

"I know," Mr. Ba Dat replied, his voice choked. "It's just... you've been silent for so long. Now you have to face it again. It's not easy at all." Then he hung up, leaving Ha Vy sitting silently in the small room, the soft yellow light casting a lonely shadow on the wall.

She put the phone down on the table, her mind spinning with countless theories. Perhaps Mr. Ba Dat was forced to adjust the boundaries, or perhaps he did it voluntarily for some reason that she could not yet imagine. Whatever the case, she felt that behind the old man's upcoming confession, there were definitely more layers of complexity than she had originally anticipated, and she needed to prepare her mind firmly to receive it.

She looked out the window, at the starry night sky of the countryside and rivers, wondering what had caused a man who had been devoted to his work for so many years to carry such a heavy psychological burden. She is not sure where the truth ahead will lead her, but she clearly understands one thing - she has entered an irreversible journey, a journey that she believes, no matter how difficult, must be followed to the end.

She reopened the file, staring at the yellowed hand-drawn map, the faint ink lines seemed to be whispering a story that had been buried for more than twenty years. Outside, the sound of frogs croaking throughout the fields, mixed with the sound of the wind blowing through the coconut trees, creates a familiar country music, but tonight, for Ha Vy, it brings with it a feeling of anxious anticipation for what is about to be revealed, as if this land itself is holding its breath waiting for the day the truth is called by its right name.