Chapter 5 — The Secret Pension

Duc Hai, stop talking right now.

Han Duc Hai let out a cold, mocking laugh.

Afraid now, are you?

Your daughter doesn't know how the world works, so I will spell it out clearly for her.

Back then, when the accident happened at the factory, he personally signed the statement of responsibility.

If we truly decide to reopen that case, he can forget about keeping his senior engineer status.

My father suddenly raised his head.

That was never my responsibility.

Han Duc Hai stared intently into his eyes.

Who is going to believe that?

A deafening explosion echoed inside my head. My father had never once mentioned any accident to me. He had always claimed the factory was merely outdated and that policies had simply changed. It turned out he hadn't given up without a fight. Rather, someone had used an incident from twelve years ago to crush him into the dirt and keep him silenced. I firmly grasped my father's hand.

Father, come with me.

Han Duc Hai stepped forward, blocking our path.

You can leave if you want.

First, sign this statement.

He produced yet another sheet of paper from his coat pocket. Printed upon it was a declaration stating that Han Duc Xuong voluntarily handed over his special government allowance for Han Duc Hai to manage on his behalf, and that no family member held the right to dispute or investigate the matter further. Gazing at those cruel words, my blood ran instantly cold. So their haste in dragging my father out of the hospital had not been solely driven by their greed for the apartment. They had desperately sought to forge a piece of paper to save their own skins. Right there in front of everyone, I ripped the document to shreds. The torn fragments fluttered down and settled upon Han Duc Hai's shoes. He raised his hand as if to strike me across the face. I did not flinch or move out of the way. Suddenly, Tang Vy burst through the doors, forcefully shoving his arm aside. Right behind her stood two individuals dressed in official uniforms.

Who is causing a disturbance here?

Han Duc Hai's expression shifted instantly, a fawning smile replacing his menace.

It is merely a misunderstanding, just a private family discussion.

I shielded my father behind my back.

It is no misunderstanding.

They took advantage of my mother being in surgery to abduct my father from the hospital and force him to sign over the deed to our home.

And they were coercing him into signing away his right to seek justice.

The officials turned their gaze toward my father.

Sir, is this accusation true?

My father's throat worked as he swallowed hard several times. He looked at Han Duc Hai, and then turned his eyes to me. In that brief, agonizing moment, I feared he would retreat once more into his habitual silence. But instead, he straightened his frail shoulders.

It is true.

I do not wish to transfer ownership of the house.

Nor do I wish to sign any declaration of surrender.

Han Duc Hai's face instantly twisted into an ugly grimace of rage.

Han Duc Xuong, you had better consider the consequences very carefully.

My father slowly closed his eyes.

I have thought it through completely.

I have lived in poverty for twelve years, and I refuse to let my daughter bow her head in humiliation for me ever again.

Hot tears stung my eyes. I gently supported him as we walked toward the exit. Just as we reached the threshold, my phone shrilled loudly. It was the official in charge of the social security administration. He spoke only a single sentence.

Miss Han, the archive department just located another document.

Your mother's signature is on that paper as well.

I stood frozen outside the housing administration office, feeling as though a bucket of icy water had been emptied over my head. My mother had signed it too. Those few words carried a cruelty far exceeding any threat Han Duc Hai could ever muster. Hearing this, my father swayed on his feet, nearly collapsing.

Your mother could never have signed such a thing.

I immediately demanded into the receiver.

What document is it?

The official replied, It is a joint family confirmation statement.

The contents state that both your parents agreed to let Han Duc Hai manage the special allowance indefinitely.

It bears your mother's signature and her thumbprint.

My father's face turned an ashen grey.

She never signed it.

She did not even know that such an allowance existed.

I spoke into the phone. Scan the document and send it to my official email inbox. The official hesitated for a moment.

I can do that, but it would be best if you brought the principals in here to clarify things in person.

Phuong Ve Dong just stated that this is merely a dispute over family financial management, and it might not be actionable as a legal violation.

I let out a bitter, cutting laugh.

Is he so eager to define the nature of this crime so quickly?

The official remained silent. After the call ended, Han Duc Hai strode over to where I stood. The panic he had displayed earlier had vanished entirely, replaced once more by that nauseating composure of his.

Han Thanh, you heard the man, didn't you?

Both of your parents gave their consent.

By making such a scene now, you are merely bringing shame upon the elders.

Ma Thao Van chimed in with a smug, triumphant smirk.

Your own mother signed it, so what is the point of this pathetic act of filial piety?

This money was always meant to be shared as a form of mutual family assistance.

Han Viet leaned against the car door, chuckling softly.

Sister, if you keep making a scene, you won't even be able to pay off your mother's surgery debts, let alone keep your job.

When that happens, the apartment will have to be sold off anyway.

I ignored them completely. I helped my father into the car and drove straight back to the hospital. Throughout the journey, my father did not utter a single word. His hands rested upon his knees, trembling without pause. I placed the printed financial statement right in front of him.

Father, look at me.

Did you ever agree to let your second uncle take your allowance?

Sudden tears spilled from my father's eyes.

No.

I didn't even know how much the monthly allowance was.

Duc Hai merely told me that the workplace could not issue retroactive supplementary payments, and that after retirement, I would only be entitled to the bare minimum.

He handed me a bank card, claiming I could withdraw over nine hundred each month, enough for food and basic living expenses.

I trusted him.

I asked him, Then what was that accident about? My father's chest heaved violently with labored breaths.

Twelve years ago, during the trial run of the new production line, the supervisor in charge wanted to accelerate the schedule and bypassed the standard safety inspections.

I discovered the parameters were dangerously incorrect and forced an emergency shutdown.

After I left, they restarted the machinery anyway.

The equipment malfunctioned and injured a worker, and the factory needed someone to bear the blame.

I refused to sign their fabricated report, so they forced this statement of responsibility onto me instead.