Chapter 14 — The Mask Isn't Real

The recording sound came from the small speaker placed in the middle of the table, Ho Bao Ky's voice rang out clearly, so confident that it was chilling: "...let me take care of the origin documents, you just need to make sure the drawings are ninety-five percent authentic, that's enough, I have a way to handle the rest with the appraisal party."

Nhat Vu stopped the recording and looked at Uyen Nhi through the laptop screen placed in the middle of the Moon Painting workshop table. "This is irrefutable evidence. Not only did he know it was a fake, but he also actively directed how to fake it to bypass the appraisal."

"What about the 'how to deal with the appraiser' part?" Uyen Nhi asked, her voice tense. "Does that mean he has someone on that auction house's appraisal team?"

Nhat Vu nodded, opened another folder on his laptop, where he spent last night comparing the lots "attributed to Dang Ba Tuyen" with the names of experts who signed appraisal confirmations in Indochine Heritage Auctions' public records. "I found this. All eight shipments related to your teacher were all signed off by the same independent appraiser named Thomas Yeoh — a very professional-sounding name, but when I looked it up, I couldn't find any articles, research, or academic records associated with this name before five years ago. There was no trace of a real 'expert'."

"What do you mean it's a made up name?"

"There's a high possibility that it's either that, or it's a real person but was paid to sign falsely, without actually doing any due diligence." Nhat Vu turned his laptop around and showed Uyen Nhi a long list of other consignments, not only related to Mr. Tuyen, but also containing the names of several other folk artists in many regions - Bat Trang ceramics, Dong Ho paintings, carved wooden furniture in the Central region. "And here's the part that really chills me. Ho Bao Ky didn't just fake your master's work. The same appraiser 'Thomas Yeoh' signed off on at least twelve different lots, belonging to six different folk artists, spanning the past three years."

Uyen Nhi felt a chill run down her spine as she looked at the long list before her eyes. She thought she was facing a personal case, aimed specifically at her teacher's legacy. The truth is much bigger, much crueler — an organized system that exploited the public's trust in Vietnamese folk artists on a widespread scale, lasting many years without anyone finding out.

She ran her hand through each line in the list, recognizing a few artists' names she had heard the teacher mention with respect - an old potter in Bat Trang famous for his natural cracked glaze, a family of Dong Ho paintings that had existed for five generations, a woodcarver artist in the Central region who had been invited to Europe to exhibit. All of them, as well as their teachers, have devoted their lives to preserving a traditional profession that is gradually disappearing. They did not expect that their names would become a profit-making tool for someone who had never once held a brush or molded clay.

"How much money was made from all these shipments?" She asked, her voice choked.

Nhat Vu scrolled down to the bottom of the spreadsheet he created himself, which summarizes the final price of each lot according to public information on the auction website. "Preliminarily, the total value of the twelve shipments I found alone exceeded four billion dong. And those are just the public shipments on file, not to mention there may be many other private transactions between collectors that I cannot track."

That number shocked Uyen Nhi. Four billion dong, in exchange for the honor of six artisan families, with the lifelong efforts of people who never knew they were being taken advantage of. She thought about the eight and a half million she had spent to buy back the fake mask from Doan The Vinh's store, a pitifully small number when placed next to the total value of the whole chain, but it was the first, most important piece of evidence, paving the way for everything she discovered afterward.

"So other artisans are also having their works counterfeited without knowing it?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Likely." Nhat Vu nodded. "And perhaps many of them don't have your advantage — a secret mark to spot the difference. Many old artisans, who aren't tech-savvy, don't follow international auctions, may never even know their work is being impersonated."

Uyen Nhi sat quietly, letting that information slowly seep into her mind. The story is no longer simply a private matter between her, Tuyen, and the memory of her teacher. It has become a much bigger problem, related to the reputation and rights of the entire Vietnamese traditional craft village community.

"I need to contact the other artisans on this list." She said, her voice regaining determination. "They have the right to know, and perhaps when many people speak up, the weight of the evidence will be great enough that no one can ignore it anymore."

"I agree, but need to be careful about the timing." Nhat Vu typed a few notes into his notebook. "If I contact too early, too openly, Ho Bao Ky can smell it and disperse the evidence, or worse, put pressure on people who have cooperated with me like Ms. Boi Tran and Uncle Tuyen."

Uyen Nhi nodded and looked out the workshop door, where the afternoon sunlight was yellowing the stacks of wooden molds arranged on the shelves. She thought of her teacher, of all the other old artisans across the country who were quietly doing their jobs every day, unaware that their names and lifelong enthusiasm might be being exploited somewhere far away, under the luxurious lights of international auction rooms.

"Where do you think I should start?" She asked, her voice calmed down but still heavy with thoughts.

"I think we need a comprehensive plan, not just targeting a single shipment." Nhat Vu closed his laptop and looked straight at Uyen Nhi with the serious eyes of a journalist facing the biggest story of his career. "A full investigation, published at the right time, accompanied by irrefutable evidence - audio recordings, financial documents, confirmation from insiders like Ms. Boi Tran. Enough weight to force Indochine Heritage Auctions to respond publicly, not to be silent like they did to you the first time."

"What about uncle Tuyen and sister Boi Tran? What will they do in that article?"

Nhat Vu pondered for a moment before answering. "That is the most difficult part, Uyen Nhi. An honest investigative article cannot focus only on Ho Bao Ky alone and ignore the role of those who directly produce counterfeit goods. But I believe, if presented properly - emphasizing the circumstances, on the fact that they actively cooperated in providing evidence to expose the real mastermind - the public will have a more fair view, and maybe the law will also consider it as an extenuating circumstance."

Uyen Nhi nodded slowly, but in her heart there was still a big unanswered question - how to make justice happen to Ho Bao Ky, without simultaneously subjecting Tuyen and Boi Tran to a severe punishment worthy of a cold, calculating mastermind like him. She knew, before taking action, she needed a serious conversation with both of them, and perhaps, with Nha Uyen herself — who had now become an indispensable part of their efforts to right the wrongs.

That night, after Nhat Vu had returned, Uyen Nhi sat alone in the workshop, reopening the list of six impersonated artisans, wondering if she should be the one to contact each family, or if she should leave it to the press to handle it more objectively. She thought about how she felt when she first discovered the fake masks on the auction block—the anger, the helplessness at being ignored, and how she didn't want anyone else to have to go through that feeling alone like she did.

She opened her notebook and began to compose a short letter, not sending it immediately, just to organize her thoughts - a letter she imagined sending to those artisans, explaining how she discovered the incident, how she used her own eyes and familiar hands to recognize the difference between real and fake. She hopes that one day, her teacher's story will help many others realize that an artist's reputation, whether dead or alive, always needs someone to protect it.