Chapter 3 — The Pangasius King of An Giang: A Bitter Revenge

The smell of aerators, silt and calls from the port clung to Kiên's sleeve when the phone rang for the third time. Kiên does not rush to conclusions. People accustomed to the sound of aerators, silt and calls from the port understand that one small sign can be the result of a whole series of wrong choices. Kiên placed a small sample next to the notebook, circled the unusual spot and reminded himself of the name of the fish farmer and a case of price gouging.

For months, Kiên pursued a transparent fish farming chain from feed to factory at a frustratingly slow pace. The work is not just about finding capital or putting up signs; it is also about learning to ask questions of the people directly affected. Therefore, Kiên returned to meet the people in the fish raft area on the Hau River, listened to each fragmentary story and then assembled it into a picture that the official report had tried to flatten.

Chapter 3 revolves around Luân sending the price list. Kiên divides work into parts that can be inspected: who goes where, what samples to take, who to notify and where to stop if there is a risk. Vân records each time in the shift transfer book; they do not allow vague memories to replace data. Luân may say the project just needs a boost, but in the fish rafting area on the Hau River, a wrong decision often costs many years.

The sound of aerators, silt and calls from the port give the work its own rules. Kiên checked the fee schedule written in pencil, compared it with the shift transfer book, then recorded the time and who was present. A polished figure means nothing if no one knows how it was measured. Vân often reminds everyone that doing things honestly is not always quick, but it allows everyone to see the same truth.

Kiên thinks about the first day of vocational training. Back then, they chose a detour so as not to leave anyone behind; No one called it a strategy, but it taught Kiên that trust must be built from small things. Now, when Luân wants everyone to believe in the big promise, Kiên only asks: who is responsible if that promise is wrong?

“Vân, what do you think is wrong?” Kiên asked. Vân didn't answer right away, just pulled the small sample closer and pointed to the crossed out line. "It's not the result that's wrong. It's the mistake that people ignore those who aren't in the meeting room." They agreed to check again from the beginning, even though that meant missing a great opportunity.

Vân is not someone who always agrees with Kiên. When Kiên suggested admitting his mistakes before drawing conclusions, Vân shook his head: "Don't use courage as an excuse to put others in danger." The two argued on the way home, no one raised their voice. Finally, they revised the plan so that affected people had the right to stop before signing.

On the other side, Luân is using another method. Luân sent a slick presentation, calling the transparent fish farming chain from feed to factory a turning point and mentioning the money that could be made. No one saw a clause in the appendix that shifted the name of the fish farmer and a price squeeze onto those with the least power. Kiên read it to the end, took a photo of every page, and kept a copy where no angry phone call could erase it.

A person in the fish raft area on Hau River told Kiên an old story. They did not talk about money first, but about the feeling of being treated like a line in a spreadsheet. The story made Kiên change the question: instead of asking what the project needed, they asked what the people wanted to keep. The answer was different, but that difference helped the plan become something that can live with everyday life.

The first evidence is in the shift handover book. It's not conclusive enough, just enough to ask difficult questions. Kiên contacted the data creator, but the call was disconnected. When Kiên called back, a strange voice said the profile had been updated. Kiên looked at his watch, understanding that his opponent already knew what they were looking for. For the first time, the game no longer took place behind the meeting room door.

To test, Kiên redid part of the process himself. The pencil-written cost sheet took most of the afternoon, but the results could not be explained by random error. Vân recorded each step, while Kiên marked the sample with his handwriting. No one was quick to call it a victory; they were only sure that silence would pass mistakes from one person to another.

Memories of the first day of vocational training returned when Kiên saw a small sample. They chose a detour to avoid leaving anyone behind, which made Kiên want to quit his job, but that was also the reason they couldn't stand aside. People often waited for the character to get rich so everything could be resolved. Kiên knows life is not simple. A project was worth pursuing only if it made less powerful people less afraid.

Rumors spread faster than reports. Some people called Kiên an opportunist, others asked why Luân did not make his records public. Kiên opened a small meeting, placed maps and data on the table, and invited anyone who had questions to speak first. Transparency did not make tensions go away, but it made it harder for lies to find a place to hide.

People in the fish raft area on Hau River do not stand outside. Some people brought photos, some asked for an explanation, some said frankly that they did not believe Kiên. Kiên thanks the objection, because a transparent fish farming chain from food to factory would mean nothing if only listening to people who already agreed. Vân opens a list of questions for everyone to choose what they want to check first.

In the afternoon, a new detail appeared: Luân sent a price list. It forced Kiên to look again at his motives. They were so focused on winning against Luân that they forgot the original goal of protecting the fish farmer's reputation and a price squeeze. Vân just asked: "If you win but everyone still loses what they need, what kind of win do you call that?"

The meeting with Luân took place in a place where no one pretended not to listen. Luân put the proposal on the table and called it the last way out. Kiên reads slowly, asks for small text and asks to clearly state the name of the person responsible. When Luân lost patience, Kiên replied: "I don't need a big promise. I need a commitment to be able to check tomorrow."

After the confrontation, Kiên and Vân did not celebrate. They sat next to the fish raft on the Hau River, sharing a simple meal and checking the money in the fund. Kiên admitted that he was afraid of failure because he had dragged many people into it. Vân said fear was the reason to have a backup plan. Together, they rewrote the plan in small, reversible steps.

The next morning, the price to pay appeared. A cost sheet written in pencil took more time, while a contract demands an immediate answer. One member left the group, another asked for an advance, Luân spread the news that the project was broken. Resolutely choose to publicize real progress, including unfinished parts. Listeners may be disappointed, but no one was led away by a false picture.

In a rare silence, Kiên realized that his relationship with Vân had changed. They are no longer chasing vague dreams; they know each other's boundaries. Kiên apologized for making too many decisions. Vân admitted that she hid her worries. There were no romantic promises, just the two returning to their desks after telling the truth.

A copy was sent unexpectedly. It showed that Luân did not act alone and that Luân sent the price list as just the outer layer of a longer plan. Kiên compares signatures, file creation time and narration. Each piece was small, but when placed next to the others it pointed to a door that no one dared to open before.

Kiên made a difficult choice: let the community keep the veto. It was slow, expensive, and had almost no good photos to post. But it allowed the person at the end of the chain to check, respond, and back out when disagreeing. Vân signed first. The others looked at each other and then put down their pens; no one clapped, they just exhaled.

The consequences came soon. One member left the group, causing part of the plan to stop. Kiên explained himself to the person who believed him. Some people leave, some stay, some bring new solutions. Small failures don't go away, but they prevent bigger failures. Kiên records lessons under the names of those affected.

Later in the day, a call came from the fish raft area on the Hau River reporting that another batch had signs. Kiên listened to everything, asked for photos and a specific time. The story took a new direction. Opponents can prepare for controversy, but they are not necessarily prepared for everyone to check the truth. Kiên looked at the small sample and understood that tomorrow was no longer the day to correct mistakes in a closed room.

The group acted immediately because the inspection deadline was tomorrow. Kiên assigns tasks, Vân keeps a copy, and people in the fish-raft area on the Hậu River confirm on the spot. Sometimes the network goes down, data conflicts, or someone bursts into tears from fatigue. They continue slowly but in control, because no one wants to rush into a new error.

When everything calmed down, Kiên walked out to hear the car bell. The sound of the aerator, the sediment and the call from the port were still there, calm as before, just the way they looked was different. This job does not make them heroes; it gives the opportunity to do something right and then take responsibility if it's wrong. That thought was enough for them to go back and open the last file.

The last document did not have Luân's signature. It bore the name of the people Kiên once believed in. The door opened with the question: can the project be kept without sacrificing the weak. Kiên didn't call anyone right away. They put down their pens, looked at Vân and said: "Tomorrow we will tell everything, including the part that makes us embarrassed." Outside the door, the fish raft area on the Hau River woke up; The real story had just begun.

Kiên returned to the cost sheet written in pencil, this time with another person to avoid one voice deciding everything. They compared the sound of the aerator, the sediment and the call from the port with the previous day's data, asked the person who witnessed the rotation to send the price list and clearly wrote down the unknown part. The method was slower than a statement, but each step left a trace for later inspection. When Vân said he was tired, Kiên put away the documents, poured water and reminded: "You can rest, but don't skip the question."