Chapter 8 — The Secret Pages of Room Seven

Three days after the conversation with Mrs. Tram, Nhã Vân decided to meet Kỳ Bách Nguyên again to share what she had just learned. She chose late afternoon, when the common area was almost empty, with only a few patients sitting quietly watching television. She sent a message through a small, carefully folded piece of paper, asking a friendly nurse to deliver it to his clinic, with an appointment to meet at the garden after dinner.

When the two sat down on the familiar bench, Nhã Vân told Ms. Tram's entire story, from how she used to be the chief accountant of a medical corporation, discovering unusual expenses in the hospital bill, to being diagnosed with paranoia within just a week and detained for three years.

Bách Nguyên listened attentively, his face gradually became tense when she mentioned the money being circulated through satellite companies to cover long-term treatment costs.

"Did she say the names of those companies?" He asked, his voice more urgent than usual.

"No, she said she didn't remember the details, or didn't want to say it because she was afraid." Nhã Vân shook her head. "But doctor, your reaction makes me think you already know something about this."

Bách Nguyên was silent for a moment, then pulled out an old leather-bound notebook from his jacket pocket, flipped to a page in the middle of the notebook, and showed it to her. On the page is a carefully hand-drawn diagram, connecting squares with the abbreviations of many companies together with criss-crossed lines, in the center is a boldly circled box with the word "An Tâm".

"I've been quietly collecting these names over the past five months, from invoices forgotten in the office trash, from overheard conversations between administrative staff." He pointed to one of the squares. "This company, an investment consulting company, registered its business just a few months before it began dealing with An Tâm, and ceased operations shortly after the money was transferred. This is a classic sign of money laundering through shell companies."

Nhã Vân looked at the diagram, a cold feeling spread throughout her body. "Who is behind these companies?"

"I have not been able to track down the real owner, because they are all registered under different legal representatives, no one is the same." Bách Nguyên closed the notebook, his voice lowered. "But there's one thing I'm sure of: all transactions must be approved by the clinic's highest level of management, i.e. Chu Bảo Hạnh, or someone with equal or higher authority than her within the corporation."

That sentence made Nhã Vân speechless. She thought of Mạc Vĩnh Điền, who used to hold the position of vice chairman of the board of directors, who had financial control of the entire group for many years before his death. If this network was active before his death, the possibility that he was involved cannot be ruled out.

"Doctor, have you heard anything about Mr. Mạc Vĩnh Điền?" She asked, trying to keep her voice calm even though her heart was beating rapidly.

Bách Nguyên frowned. "The vice president of the corporation passed away recently, right? The one whose stepdaughter was suspected of killing?"

Nhã Vân nodded, didn't say anything more, let him figure it out for himself.

"I heard that name mentioned a few times in internal finance meetings that I happened to be near, before he passed away," Bách Nguyên spoke slowly, as if trying to remember every detail accurately. "Once I heard Chu Bảo Hạnh call, mentioning the need to prepare documents before Mr. Điền came to check the quarter-end books. Her tone at that time was not like an employee reporting to a normal superior, but like she had to explain to someone with real power to influence her."

Nhã Vân felt all the disparate pieces in her head begin to fit together. If Mạc Vĩnh Điền is really the person behind this money laundering network, and Chu Bảo Hạnh is the person directly executing it at An Tâm, then his death — if it is really a death — will leave a huge power vacuum in this underground system. And Diệu Kỳ, the person suspected of killing him, accidentally became the most dangerous link that needed to be silenced, because she could be the only surviving witness of that night.

"There's one thing I don't understand," she said, trying to put her thoughts into words. "If Mạc Vĩnh Điền is dead, why is this network still so active? Why does Chu Bảo Hạnh continue to keep old witnesses under house arrest, even tighter after my sister's case?"

Bách Nguyên looked at her, his eyes flashed with a light of recognition. "Unless he's not really dead."

That sentence was like a cold knife cutting into Nhã Vân's heart. She had never dared to think about that possibility, even though in her heart she always felt there was something wrong about the too hasty, too ambiguous death of the man who had sat at the head of her family's dinner table for six years.

"Doctor, do you think he's alive?" She asked, her voice trembling uncontrollably.

"I can't say for sure, but if you look at the motive, everything seems terrifyingly reasonable," Bách Nguyên said, his voice became more serious than ever. "A well-timed death, just when it seemed like some kind of financial investigation was closing in on him, while at the same time placing full criminal responsibility on someone else — his stepdaughter — who could have been incapacitated by a medical system that he himself had control over. That wasn't a coincidence, Ms. Lam. It was a plan."

Nhã Vân sat silently, feeling like the whole world had just collapsed under her feet. If Bách Nguyên was right, then the man her family once trusted and mourned for was never actually dead, but was hiding somewhere, continuing to control this criminal network from the shadows, while her younger sister had to bear the charge of a murder she did not commit in the way people thought.

"We need proof," she spoke, her voice regaining its familiar assertiveness even though her heart was still chaotic. "Concrete evidence, not just speculation and fragmentary pieces."

"I know." Bách Nguyên nodded. "And I believe the most important evidence is located in places I have never been allowed to enter — the special quarantine area, and the basement behind the logistics area."

The two looked at each other in the pale yellow light of the garden, both understanding that from this moment on, they were no longer two separate individuals silently searching for the truth, but had officially become allies in a war much more dangerous than what they had ever imagined when they first started.

"If I tell you who I really am," Nhã Vân said slowly, looking straight at him, "will that change the way you view everything we just talked about?"

Bách Nguyên was silent for a moment, then shook his head. "Your true identity is not as important as which side you're on. And I see clearly which side you're on, Ms. Lam, no matter what your real name is."

Nhã Vân smiled slightly, a rare smile during the past gloomy days, feeling like a part of the burden had been lifted off her shoulders. But she knew, the road ahead was still long, and they had only just touched the outermost shell of a truth much bigger and darker than either of them had ever imagined.

Before parting ways that night, Bách Nguyên told her to be careful with every word she said in the coming days, because if his guess about Mạc Vĩnh Điền was correct, then the person behind this network certainly had experience handling all threats for many years, and would not hesitate to act if he discovered someone was getting close to the truth. He also promised to find a way to review all of Chu Bảo Hạnh's recent calls and unusual meetings to see if there were any signs that she was contacting a person who had "passed away".

Returning to the room, Nhã Vân sat at the small table, opened her code book, and began to draw the entire relationship diagram that she and Bách Nguyên had just built together: Mạc Vĩnh Điền in the center, lines radiating out connecting Chu Bảo Hạnh, with shell companies, with the special quarantine area, with detained witnesses like Mrs. Tram and the nurse named Thanh Hà, and finally, a bold line connecting straight to the square named Dieu. Kỳ.

She looked at the diagram for a long time in the dim light of the desk lamp, feeling the weight of what she had just discovered. This was no longer a single criminal case involving her family, but an organized crime system that had silently exploited and destroyed countless innocent lives for years, hiding behind the name of a humanitarian psychiatric clinic bearing her family's name.

She closed the notebook, turned off the light, and lay down on the bed in the dark, but her mind still kept spinning. If Mạc Vĩnh Điền was really alive, where was he? And most importantly, how far can he go to protect his secret, even at the expense of those who were once part of the family he entered?