Chapter 3 — The Man Behind the Rain in Old Street

That evening, Bao Ngoc sat in her small apartment, Nhat Lan's diary placed solemnly on the desk, the table lamp radiating warm yellow light onto each page that had been stained by time. She read and reread each line, trying to find clues from what was written, even though she knew that the most important pages were gone.

Nhat Lan's diary is a notebook recording the simple daily life of a nineteen-year-old girl — sewing lessons, funny stories about work, dreams for the future. But the closer you get to the last remaining pages, the more tense and reserved Nhat Lan's writing becomes.

"Today I accidentally overheard a conversation I shouldn't have heard," one passage read. "I don't dare tell the details here, I'm afraid that if someone accidentally reads it, it will cause trouble. I have to think carefully about what to do next."

Next paragraph, a few days ago: "I have decided to talk to Mr. Long. I believe he is a good person, he will understand and help me resolve this matter peacefully."

Bao Ngoc stopped and read that line over and over again. "Mr. Long" — is it Ton Bao Long, who is currently the chairman of a large corporation? If so, this shows that Nhat Lan knew a secret related to the Ton family, and she intended to confront Bao Long directly before she disappeared.

She took the phone and called Thanh Son even though it was quite late. "I found something important," she said as soon as he answered the phone. "Nhat Lan knew a secret related to the Ton family, and she intended to talk to someone named Long before she disappeared. I think it was Ton Bao Long."

"Do you think he was directly involved in the disappearance?" Thanh Son asked, his voice also became serious.

"I don't dare say for sure, but this is too obvious a connection to ignore," Bao Ngoc replied. "Tomorrow, I need to learn more about the history of Bao Long Group, and about Ton Bao Long himself when he was young."

***

The next morning, Bao Ngoc spent the whole morning finding out public information about Ton Bao Long and Bao Long Group. He, now 62 years old, has built the corporation from the foundation of his family's fortune, expanding operations into many fields from real estate to construction. Notably, one of the group's largest current projects is the plan to clear and redevelop the Yen Lang Old Quarter area into a modern commercial center.

That information made Bao Ngoc feel a strange chill. If Ton Bao Long is indeed involved in Nhat Lan's disappearance, and now he is trying to erase the very street where that secret may still be hidden, then this is no longer a simple investigation into the past, but a race against time.

She brought her findings to Phan Duc Long, presenting in detail what she had collected. Mr. Long listened attentively, his face becoming more and more serious.

"This is a much bigger story than initially expected," he said after Bao Ngoc finished his presentation. "But you also need to understand, this is an extremely serious allegation against one of the most influential businessmen in the city. We need solid evidence before we can announce anything."

"I understand that," Bao Ngoc replied, her voice steady. "I will continue to investigate carefully, gathering sufficient evidence before writing any lines."

"I will give you more time to investigate further," Mr. Long said, his voice somewhat hesitant. "But you need to know, Bao Long Group is one of our newspaper's largest advertisers. If the management knows that you are investigating Ton Bao Long himself, they may intervene, just like what happened with your previous article."

That warning made Bao Ngoc feel a familiar worry rising, but at the same time strengthened her determination. "I'll be careful," she said. "But I can't ignore the truth just because it involves someone in power."

***

In the afternoon, Bao Ngoc returned to Yen Lang Old Town, this time going to the cafe of Mrs. Bay Lieu - who, according to many other residents, was the only living witness who saw Nhat Lan on the night of her disappearance. A small cafe located modestly at the beginning of the street, Mrs. Bay Lieu, an old woman in her seventies, was sitting at an old wooden table fanning herself.

"Mrs. Bay," Bao Ngoc called, her voice polite. "I'm a reporter, researching the disappearance of Miss Nhat Lan thirty years ago. I heard that you were the last person to see her."

As soon as she heard the name Nhat Lan, Ms. Bay Lieu's face changed color, her eyes clearly showing fear. "I don't know anything," she said, her voice shaking, waving her hand to signal Bao Ngoc to leave. "Go ask someone else, I'm old, I don't remember anything."

"I just want to find out the truth, grandma," Bao Ngoc said, her voice gentle and patient. "Miss Nhat Lan's family has been waiting for thirty years to know what really happened."

Mrs. Bay Lieu was silent for a long time, her eyes looking around as if checking to see if anyone else was eavesdropping. “Don't ask me anymore,” she said finally, her voice dropping to a frightened whisper. "It's very dangerous, miss. I've been silent for thirty years on my own account, and I will continue to be silent."

That statement, although brief, revealed more than what Ms. Bay Lieu probably intended to say. Clearly, she knew something, and clearly, there was a reason she was afraid to keep quiet all these years. Bao Ngoc decided not to press further, realizing that it was necessary to build trust before the old woman could be willing to share the truth.

"I understand, grandma," she said, standing up to leave. "I won't force you. But if you change your mind, I'm always ready to listen, anytime." She left a business card on the table before leaving, filled with determination to come back, more patient, until that wall of fear finally collapsed.

***

On the way out of the cafe, Bao Ngoc stopped by the Late Night Bookstore to return some information to Nhat Quang, recounting his disappointing meeting with Mrs. Bay Lieu. "She knows something, I'm sure," she said, sitting down in her usual chair in the bookstore. "But she was so scared that she didn't dare speak out."

"Mrs. Bay has been selling drinks at the end of this street since before I was born," Nhat Quang said, his face thoughtful. "If she was that scared, she was probably directly threatened at that time."

"I think so too," Bao Ngoc replied. "Maybe someone warned her to keep quiet right after your sister disappeared, and that fear has been ingrained for the past thirty years."

Nhat Quang stood up, made two cups of hot tea, and gave Bao Ngoc a cup before sitting down opposite her. "You know," he said, his voice low and thoughtful, "for more than twenty years, I've been trying to figure it out on my own, but I've always come up against dead ends. I have no investigative skills, no connections, no idea where to start. Watching you work over the past few days, I realize you've come further than I have in two decades."

"That's because you carry too much emotion in every step of the investigation," Bao Ngoc said softly. "Sometimes, an outsider can see the problem more clearly, without being influenced by emotions. But I also need your understanding of the family, of Ms. Nhat Lan, to be able to piece the clues together."

"We're a team, okay?" Nhat Quang asked, his eyes for the first time since they met shone with a ray of real hope.

"We are a team," Bao Ngoc replied, smiling in confirmation, sensing a new connection forming between the two, not simply a relationship between journalist and source, but a sincere companionship toward the same goal.

They spent the rest of the evening together planning the next steps of their investigation — learning more about the history of the Ton mansion, finding people who worked in the mansion at the same time as Nhat Lan, and most importantly, finding a way to access the original police investigation file on the disappearance, knowing that this would be the most difficult and sensitive step.

When Bao Ngoc left the bookstore when it was completely dark, she looked back at the "Late Lights" sign hanging in front of the door, the warm yellow light still shining like a small lighthouse in the middle of the ancient street. She clearly felt that, although the journey ahead was full of mysteries and possibly dangers, she was no longer alone in this search for the truth.