Chapter 6 — Swept into the Wave of Love

Two days later, the second group round took place under the rarely seen intense sunlight of July, making the entire Ghenh Rang beach seem to be steaming hot from the white sand. Viet Khoi played much better than in the first round, winning convincingly against an Australian opponent, regaining some of his shaky confidence after the loss to Lam Khue. She also continued to win her matches, her technique remained sharp, her performance surprisingly stable for a rookie who had never had any official competition achievements before.

The evening after the round, Viet Khoi texted Lam Khue to go to a small cafe hidden in an alley near the seafood market, where few tourists frequented and there were almost certainly no camera lenses lurking. She accepted, arrived on time, wearing a loose shirt and a baseball cap pulled low like her old habit, even though it was no longer necessary to hide her face from him alone.

They sat in the back corner, ordered two glasses of iced coffee, the atmosphere between the two of them was much less tense than the night they met on the beach. Viet Khoi didn't rush to ask right away, just let her naturally chat about trivial things first, about the weather, about the lotus seed sweet soup she just tried at a nearby restaurant, until the atmosphere was comfortable enough for her to open up more.

"I think it's time I owe you a clearer explanation," Lam Khue finally spoke up proactively, placing the coffee cup on the table, looking straight at him, no longer avoiding it like before.

Viet Khoi was silent, just nodded slightly, signaling her to continue at her own pace.

"My father's name is Vu Dinh Trac," she began, her voice slow but steady, as if she had rehearsed this story in her head countless times before finding the courage to say it out loud. "Maybe you've never heard of him, because it's been sixteen years, and a whole new generation of athletes has grown up without knowing that name anymore."

Viet Khoi frowned slightly, trying to recall his memory. "Vu Dinh Trac... I heard it somewhere, apparently from my uncle, but he never told me the details."

"My father was one of the best surfers in the country, winning three seasons in a row just like you are now," Lam Khue continued, his voice carrying a mixture of pride and pain that was hard to separate. "He was also nominated for the position of head coach of the federation, an honor that few people achieved at his age. But right before the official nomination ceremony took place, at the final match of that season, he was accused of bribing the referee to settle the score in his favor."

"An accusation of fraud?" Viet Khoi asked, his voice serious.

"That's right. No specific evidence was made public, only an accusation from an anonymous source, along with a few garbled recordings released at the most sensitive time. The federation at that time, instead of thoroughly investigating, hastily revoked my father's coaching certificate, banning him from participating in all official activities related to this sport." Lam Khue's voice trembled slightly, her eyes shone with resentment that had been suppressed for many years. "In just one week, the man who was once respected by the entire surfing community became someone who was turned away by both the media and the audience, calling him a cheater and a traitor to the spirit of the sport."

Viet Khoi sat silently, clearly feeling the weight of Lam Khue's words, imagining the scene of a man who once stood at the peak of glory suddenly falling into the abyss of public humiliation, just because of an accusation that had never been clearly proven. "Is he trying to clear his name?"

"Yes, but it's useless," Lam Khue shook her head, her voice bitter. "No one was willing to listen to a person who had been labeled a fraud. The federation refused to reopen the investigation, the media only focused on hunting sensational news without bothering to find out the truth. My father gradually lost all his relationships in the profession, and lost all faith in justice. He retreated to live in seclusion in a remote seaside area, taking with me, then only eight years old, and the injustice that had never been washed away."

She paused, took a sip of coffee as if to calm herself, then continued, her voice lower. "I grew up in the shadow of a father who was called a fraud by the whole society, even though I knew better than anyone, he was the most honest person I've ever met in my life. He never spoke ill of anyone, never blamed fate in front of me, just silently taught me to surf on deserted beaches, saying that the sea never lies, only people know how to lie."

"What about competing anonymously?" Viet Khoi asked softly, gradually understanding the story.

"Four years ago, my father passed away from illness, after many years of struggling silently, without a word of complaint." Lam Khue's voice was choked, her eyes were red, but she tried hard not to cry in the middle of a crowded cafe. "Before he died, he only told me one thing: if one day I want to compete officially, prove it with my own strength, don't let the name Vu Dinh Trac become a burden or a shield for me. He did not want me to enter this tournament with the pity or curiosity of others, just because I am the daughter of a man who was accused of cheating."

Viet Khoi was silent for a long time, letting the story settle in his heart. He realized that the hat, the glasses, the one-word nickname that Lam Khue wore every time she stepped out to sea were not simply a media trick or an unreasonable sophistication, but a layer of armor she created to protect herself from prejudice that could strike at any time if people knew she was Vu Dinh Trac's daughter.

"So you don't want the federation, the organizers, or anyone at this tournament to know who you are," he said, rather than asking, to confirm everything he had just heard.

"That's right," Lam Khue nodded. "I want them to see me by my own ability on the wave, not by the name that was tainted sixteen years ago. If I win, I want it to be my own victory. If I lose, I also accept it as my own failure, having nothing to do with my father's past."

Viet Khoi reached out and gently placed his hand on Lam Khue's hand that was placed on the table, a simple but sincere gesture of comfort. "Thank you for trusting me to tell me this. I understand, and I respect your decision."

Lam Khue looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with emotion, a gentle smile, no longer defensively raised as usual, but a rare sincere smile she gave him. "Thank you for waiting patiently, instead of asking or judging like I feared."

They sat for a while longer in the small cafe, the conversation gradually turning to lighter things. Lam Khue talked about the mornings when she and her father went to the deserted beach before it was quite dawn, about the way he taught her to read the direction of the wind through the tilt of the weeds growing along the shore, about the evenings when father and daughter sat around a small fire grilling fish, he told her stories about the sea without ever mentioning tournaments or titles. Her voice warmed up every time she mentioned those memories, as if they were the only peaceful corner left in a childhood that had already carried many burdens.

"He must have been a wonderful father," Viet Khoi said, his voice sincere.

"The best person I've ever known," Lam Khue replied, tears welling up in the corner of her eyes again, but this time it was because of a warm nostalgia rather than pain. "I wish you could see me standing on the podium, just once."

Viet Khoi remained silent, letting that sentence sink in, then gently squeezed her hand one more time. "Then I will do my best so that one day, you will stand there, under your own name, and I believe he will see, one way or another."

Lam Khue smiled slightly, didn't say anything more, just let the warm silence between the two last a while longer before they left the shop, each returning to their own resting area to prepare for the next round. But in Viet Khoi's heart, a new determination is forming, growing with every step he takes in the night. He wanted to learn more about the scandal sixteen years ago, not only because of curiosity, but because of a dull feeling of injustice rising in his heart when thinking of a talented person like Vu Dinh Trac having to endure such prolonged injustice, leaving a deep wound in the heart of his only daughter.

Little did he know that, just a few days later, a series of unusual incidents would occur right at this year's tournament, and their first signs would bear a terrifying similarity to what happened to Vu Dinh Trac sixteen years ago, as if history was preparing to repeat itself, right on the very beach where Viet Khoi was born and raised.