Chapter 9 — Ten Years of Love, His Proposal Was Just a Bet

Think a lot. But in the end, what remained was only a solid notion: I must complete what my parents left unfinished. I started following news about the pharmaceutical industry in Melbourne, reading industry reports, researching Australia's biotech ecosystem. I discovered that Melbourne is actually one of the most important biopharmaceutical centers in the Asia-Pacific region, home to branches of many leading global pharmaceutical companies and research institutes. The opportunity is more than I thought. However, starting over in this industry is not easy. I had no professional qualifications, no industry connections, not even a decent resume. For the past ten years, my life has almost revolved around only one person: No career, no savings, nothing in hand. Except for the blood-soaked knowledge that my father passed down. Opportunity came faster than I thought. It was my third month in Melbourne. The training center arranged an exchange session at the Nam Ngan Art Gallery (Southbank), supposedly so that we could feel the commercial communication atmosphere of the local elite. I don't know anything about art. But social parties like this are not strange to me. Even after ten years with Luong Thuat, I have become very familiar with toasts and social interactions. That evening, I held a glass of champagne and chatted with a local pharmaceutical company director about industry trends for more than half an hour. Until the side hall echoed with noise. Someone shouted "Doctor", someone shouted "Call an ambulance", the crowd all moved in that direction. Instinctively, I put down my glass of wine and hurriedly followed. Next to the sofa in the side lobby, an old man was slumped over in a chair. He looked to be in his mid-seventies, his hair was white, and he was wearing an exquisitely tailored dark gray suit. But at this moment, his whole body seemed to be drained of strength, his face was pale, his hands were clutching his chest, his breathing was labored. His lips turned an unusual purple-blue color, his forehead was wet with cold sweat. The people around were confused, not knowing what to do. Some brought water, some fanned the air, some rummaged through their pockets to find medicine, but absolutely no one applied any effective first aid measures. The knowledge my mother had taught me suddenly flashed in my mind. She taught me basic first aid skills when I was very young, saying "just in case you need it". I ran over, sat down, and reached out to feel the old man's carotid pulse. The pulse is very weak, but still there.

“What's wrong with him?” I asked the person standing next to him who seemed to be his entourage.

"Mr. Tham has a history of heart disease, perhaps a myocardial infarction..."

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, I started to act. I laid the old man flat down, loosened his tie and top button, making sure his airway was clear. Then perform artificial respiration (CPR). One beat, two beats, three beats. The surrounding crowd gradually quieted down, all eyes turned to me. I don't know how much time has passed. It could be two minutes, it could be five minutes. The old man's chest suddenly rose and fell, and his face began to slowly become rosy again. Applause rang out in the crowd. I sat down on the ground, drenched in sweat, my hands still shaking. Medical staff arrived three minutes later and transferred the old man onto an ambulance stretcher. The other entourage chased after me and asked for my name and contact information. I just waved my hand and said no need. Later I learned that the old man's name was Tham Hac Dinh. He is the head of a long-standing local family, possessing huge assets ranging from medicine, real estate to finance. In the Chinese area of Melbourne, he is an extremely influential figure. A week later, I received a call. The voice on the other end of the line was low and gentle, carrying the composure of an experienced businessman, but sounding younger than his actual age.

"I'm Tham Hac Dinh. Last Saturday at Nam Ngan gallery, you saved my life."

I was a bit taken aback.

"I'm in Melbourne right now, and I wanted to personally thank you. I wonder if it's convenient for you to meet?"

I thought for a moment, then replied: "Okay." The meeting location was a private club located on the top floor of an office building in the heart of Melbourne's CBD. Tham Hac Dinh sat in a wheelchair, but his mind was very clear and his eyes were bright. The first thing he said when he met me was: "Miss Pho, your father is Pho Dien, I had the opportunity to meet him once." I stood frozen in place, not knowing what to say for a moment.

"It happened many years ago," Tham Hac Dinh's eyes carried a look of remembrance, "In a specialized forum in Hong Kong. At that time, your father gave a presentation about 'The breakthrough path of generic brand-name drugs', he spoke for forty minutes without missing a single word."

He stopped for a moment and smiled: "After the seminar, I invited him out to eat, he drank two glasses of wine, and then said something that I will always remember."

“What question?” I asked.

"He said, a physician must carry the patient in his heart and his conscience in his hand. Without either of these, he is not worthy of the profession."

My eye sockets instantly turned red. Dad also said this saying at home. The original text is not wrong. That night, he was drinking wine, sitting in his study, facing the chess board, and suddenly blurted out those words. At that time I was only a dozen years old, I didn't understand much, I just obeyed. He patted my head and said: "Chi Ha, if you do this job in the future, remember this saying." I took a deep breath, forcing the tears back. Tham Hac Dinh looked at me, his eyes were gentle and sincere.

"Miss Pho, you saved my life. Your father also helped me with something in the past, I haven't had a chance to repay him yet. Now his daughter needs it, I hope I can do something."

I'm not being polite. I looked at him and said each word clearly: "Mr. Tham, I really need help."