Chapter 9 — The Last Word Is Myself

The whole room... There was no more sound. Co Dinh Phong held that stack of papers and squeezed them so hard that the edges of the paper were wrinkled. The smile on Tong Thanh Man's face stiffened. Mother Co opened her mouth, but in the end she couldn't say a word. Still standing there, strangely calm.

“2,130,000 yuan.”

My voice is not loud. But every word seemed to hit the floor hard.

“Money transferred from company account.”

“The house is in the recipient's name.”

“The time and statement match perfectly.”

Co Dinh Phong's lips moved slightly.

“You secretly looked at my things.”

I looked straight at him.

“That's my restaurant's account.”

“You used the extra card I made for you.”

He clutched the stack of papers tightly, as if trying to cling to the last straw to find an opening.

“I will pay that money.”

“It's just a temporary turnaround.”

"Temporary?"

I took out another thing from my bag. After Tran Dao told me, I went to investigate further. This is a photo of a small apartment transaction contract in the name of Tong Thanh Man's mother.

“This is also a temporary rotation?”

Co Dinh Phong was completely silent. Finally, Tong Thanh Man also spoke up. Still the same gentle and soft tone.

“Nien Chan, this… is my fault.”

“At first I asked Dinh Phong to borrow money.”

“I promised to return it.”

I took a look at her.

“What will I get in return?”

“You haven't had a job in three months.”

“Ah yes.”

“I remember.”

“Just now he said he would arrange for you the position of brand manager.”

“So where does the salary come from?”

“Isn't it still from my store?”

“Using my money…”

“To return my money.”

“Tong Thanh Man, your calculations are really good.”

Tong Thanh Man's eyes immediately turned red. She is very good at this trick. Sure enough, Co Dinh Phong immediately blocked the front.

“To Niem Chan, have you said enough?”

“Do we have to make a big deal out of this place?”

“In this place?”

I looked around this large apartment. Crystal chandelier. Solid wood floor. Genuine leather sofa.

“This is the house I bought with my money.”

“Decorate with my money.”

“Even this housewarming party is using my money to entertain guests.”

“I stand where I paid for…”

“Is there a problem with saying a few words?”

Co Dinh Phong choked. The second girl standing next to her had a face that was sometimes blue and sometimes white. The same mouth that just praised the beautiful house now can't even say a word. Mother Co stepped forward.

“To Niem Chan, what do you really want?”

“What do I want?”

I took out the last document from my bag. It's what I just received this afternoon. Lam Triet prepared it for me.

“Notice of termination of supply.”

“Starting tomorrow, all eleven suppliers will stop delivering to the eight stores in your name.”

I placed the notice on the tea table.

“Because of that supply contract…”

“I've never signed with you before.”

“Sign with me.”

Co Dinh Phong's face was completely pale.

“Thirty-six signature dishes were all researched by myself.”

“Intellectual property rights are all registered under my personal name.”

“Starting tomorrow, your chef will no longer be allowed to use these recipes.”

I picked up my bag.

“Co Dinh Phong.”

“Don't you want those eight stores?”

“I give it to you.”

“But there is no supply.”

“There is no formula.”

“There is no core chef.”

“Guess what…”

“Eight stores How many days can yours last?”

I turned around and walked towards the door. When passing by Tong Thanh Man, I stopped for a step.

“Tong Thanh Man.”

“About this house…”

“I will use legal means to reclaim it.”

"After all, this is property formed from joint business income during the marriage, which was arbitrarily transferred by one party without consent."

“The lawyer will send a letter tomorrow.”

“Remember to receive carefully.”

I pulled the door open. The hallway outside was so quiet it was chilling. From behind came the high-pitched voice of Co's mother:

“To Niem Chan, stop! You speak clearly!”

I don't turn around. The moment the elevator door closed, the phone rang. It's Mr. Chu.

“Fifteen chefs have all confirmed.”

“I won't go to the same store tomorrow.”

“Everyone is waiting for me to announce the new location.”

I hung up. The elevator slowly went down. Sixteenth floor. I looked at the numbers jumping continuously. It's been three years. It was also his turn to taste what it was like to be empty-handed. At nine o'clock the next morning, Co Dinh Phong called me seventeen times. I didn't pick up any calls. His messages kept jumping across the screen.

“To Niem Chan, are you crazy?”

“Immediately restore my supply. If not, just wait.”

“Don't force me.”

I set my phone to silent mode. Trieu Man sat opposite, munching on bread while working with me on the computer to process paperwork to hand over to the supplier.

“He should be at the store by now.”

Trieu Man looked at the clock. I opened the video Mr. Chu sent. In the video is the back kitchen of the main store. Empty. There wasn't even a burning stove. The preparation table is clean and smooth. In the freezer there were only a few leftover ingredients from the previous day. Co Dinh Phong stood in the middle of the back kitchen, phone pressed to his ear, face red with anger. Immediately after that, Mr. Chu sent another message: