Chapter 54 — The Medicine Bearer Through the Chaos

Old Paper Pages In The Archives

Exactly three days later, Tinh Yen was escorted back to the Thai Medical Institute under the guard of two Hinh Bo guards, officially "looking up medical documents to serve her self-defense in court" according to a special letter arranged by Nhuoc Tran. The feeling of walking through the familiar gate of the hospital in the position of a criminal, her hands still lightly chained, made her heart swell with an indescribable bitterness, but she quickly pushed that feeling aside, focusing all her mind on the task at hand.

Su Van Can have been informed in advance, standing and waiting at the door of the Archives Pavilion. His eyes looked at Tinh Yen with a complexity that was difficult to name - both shy and somewhat cautiously examining the presence of the two accompanying guards.

"What kind of documents do you need to look up?" He asked, his voice remaining neutral and proper.

"We need to find records about the toxicity of umbeles and pears, along with similar poisoning cases recorded in the institute's history." Tinh Yen replied, in accordance with the approved official reason.

Su Van Can led her into a corner of the room, which was filled with high wooden shelves containing hundreds of old scrolls, dust covered many of them that were rarely turned over. Two guards stood guard outside the door, unable to go deep into the cramped storage area. They only occasionally glanced through the door to check.

While looking through books related to poisons in accordance with official requirements, Tinh Yen took advantage of every rare moment when the guards weren't paying attention, secretly searching for more old records related to past distributions of medicinal herbs and herbs to civilian areas - a silent search she had long cherished but never had the chance to carry out.

"What are you looking for, young lady?" Su Van Can asked softly, his voice just loud enough for two people to hear, when he saw Tinh Yen flipping through a stack of books that had nothing to do with poisons.

Tinh Yen hesitated for a moment, then decided to put her trust in the old man who had treated her kindly from the first days of her confusion. "Senior, I'm looking for records related to a batch of relief food distributed to Dong Hai town, about ten years ago, at the time of a major epidemic there." She spoke softly. "I have reason to believe that there was a problem with that paycheck, and that might be related to what's happening to me right now."

Su Van Can looked at her for a long time, his eyes through the thick glasses carrying a heavy consideration. "I've been guarding this place for more than thirty years, lady." He spoke finally, his voice low. "There are many things I know, but it's not convenient to say them. Many other things, I don't know everything, because there are records that, after a while, suddenly disappear from the shelves without anyone explaining why." He led her to a more hidden corner, where there was a small wooden cabinet locked with a rusty brass lock. "This is the place where official documents related to the distribution of medicinal herbs and food for relief have been kept, carried out by the Thai Medical Institute in coordination with other ministries over the years. I will open them for you to see within the limits allowed, but we must be quick, before the janitor gets suspicious."

He took the key from his pocket, opened the cabinet, took out a stack of old documents, the smell of moldy paper and dried ink filled Tinh Yen's nose as she hurriedly flipped through the pages, her eyes searching for any words mentioning Dong Hai town or Lach Dua. Her heart was pounding, her hands were shaking with excitement, until her fingers stopped on a yellowed official document, the handwriting of the seal had faded over the years.

"Dispatch No... approving the release of two hundred rice stones for relief, allocated to Thanh Duong palace, Dong Hai town, to be received by Cao Ba Doan district, at the time..." Tinh Yen read silently, her voice choked up when she saw that the date recorded on the dispatch exactly matched the year of the July epidemic that took her grandmother's life.

She turned to the next page and found a small handwritten note in the margin, the hasty handwriting completely different from the formal seal of the main dispatch - "the actual quantity shipped does not match the quantity recorded at the destination, the difference is nearly thirty stones, needs further verification" - a line of note half crossed out, as if someone had deliberately erased this suspicion before it could be thoroughly investigated.

"Here..." Tinh Yen whispered, her trembling hand holding the document tightly, feeling like the whole world was spinning around her. Thirty rice jellies disappeared without a trace, right at the time of the aid provided to her hometown, right in the year of the most intense epidemic outbreak - was this just a coincidence, or the first piece of a horrifying truth that she had never dared to think about?

"What did you find, miss?" Su Van Can asked, his voice worried when he saw her face change suddenly.

Tinh Yen did not respond immediately, just showed him the official dispatch, her hands were still shaking. Su Van Can read it, his face gradually changed color, his old eyes squinted as if trying to remember something from a long time ago.

"I remember hearing about such an incident, a long time ago." He spoke, his voice a cautious whisper. "But the official dispatches related to verifying the difference later disappeared, it's unclear who took it or destroyed it. If I remember correctly, the person in charge of signing and approving the release of large relief batches at that time was under the direct management of the Ministry of Health."

The name "Ho Bo" rang out again, this time not from Thanh Phong's mouth, but from an old man in charge of the book warehouse who was over sixty years old, making Tinh Yen even more convinced that the connection between her personal tragedy and the political conspiracy surrounding the Tran Bac Hau family was not a baseless imagination.

"Can I copy the content of this dispatch, senior?" She asked, her voice urgent but still trying to keep the volume low enough.

Su Van Can glanced out the door, saw that the guard was still standing in the same place, showing no signs of suspicion, so he nodded. "Hurry up, I'll stand guard more for you, miss."

Tinh Yen quickly took a pen and paper with her and quickly copied the main content of the document along with the half-deleted notes, her hands shaking because she was both nervous and emotional. When finished, she folded the copy paper carefully, hiding it in her bra near her chest, the safest place she could think of at the moment.

Before the licensing period ended, Tinh Yen hastily flipped through a few more books about the toxicity of dau dau and pear lo to complete the official purpose of the trip, in case the contents were re-checked. When two guards came in to urge her to leave, she bowed her head to thank Su Van Can, their eyes exchanging an implicit understanding that did not require words.

In the moment of sitting quietly waiting for the guards to complete the procedures to leave the Archives, Tinh Yen remembered the image of Cao Ba Doan in the past - the Thanh Duong governor who was slow to provide aid, always using the excuse of fear of responsibility every time Lach Dua village asked for help in the midst of a raging epidemic. At that time, she and the whole village thought that the delay was simply due to the insensitivity and bureaucracy of a petty official, but now, with the document she had just found in her hand, she began to wonder if he himself also knew about the shortfall in that relief salary, and that the delay was actually a way to hide and buy time, waiting for superiors to find a way to compensate or smooth things over before anyone could detect the anomaly.

She also remembered what Mrs. Khue had said, in the early days of the outbreak - about suspecting the unusual origin of something, maybe water, maybe newly allocated food, but she did not have time to find the answer before she passed away from exhaustion. Now, many years later, it was her granddaughter, in the middle of a strange prison in the capital, who was beginning to reach the piece of the puzzle that she once had a hunch but did not have enough time to confirm. That thought both made Tinh Yen's heart ache and gave her an unprecedented iron determination - she will not let this piece sink into oblivion again, no matter what the cost.

On the way to be escorted back to the prison, Tinh Yen sat quietly in the prison car, her hand gently touching the layer of her shirt where the copied paper was hidden, her heart both full of hope and heavy with a new fear. She had found the first piece of the puzzle connecting the tragedy of the July epidemic in Lach Dua with a corruption conspiracy much larger than she had ever imagined - but the road ahead, from this small piece of the puzzle to the complete truth, and from that truth to clearing her own injustice, was still far away, full of dangers she could not yet foresee.