Chapter 7 — The Secret Pension

Ma Xao Van immediately snapped her mouth shut. I stepped forward.

You have been preparing these forged documents for twelve whole years.

Yet you forgot that anyone who has ever been hospitalized leaves a permanent medical record behind.

On that specific day, my mother’s right arm was encased in a plaster cast while her left arm was still hooked up to an intravenous drip.

The nursing logs document everything clearly, noting that even turning her body over required the assistance of another person.

Would my dear aunt kindly explain to me how precisely she managed to press a fingerprint under those circumstances?

Han Duc Hai’s eyelids twitched involuntarily. The man in the sharp suit hastily gathered the stack of papers back into his briefcase, his voice noticeably dropping several decibels.

This matter clearly requires further verification.

I let out a cold, cutting laugh.

Weren’t you just threatening to serve me with legal summons?

Why have you suddenly lost your tongue?

Han Viet stood up from beside them.

Do not get so full of yourself, Han Thanh.

Even if there happens to be some issue with this particular document, the money was still legally withdrawn from an account registered under your own father’s name.

Can you actually prove that your father did not authorize those withdrawals of his own free will?

I turned my gaze toward my father. His face was pale as paper, but this time, he did not lower his head. He spoke in a firm voice: I did not consent.

I never even knew such a fund existed.

I certainly never handed over any bank card for them to manage.

Han Viet let out a derisive snort.

Anyone can say whatever they like with their mouth.

Abruptly, my father raised a trembling hand and pointed directly at Han Duc Hai.

Back then, you told me you would help me process my retirement procedures, and instructed me to hand over my identification and official papers to you.

You claimed there had been a fatal accident at the factory, and warned me that if I dared to make a scene at the social security office, I would face criminal prosecution.

You even told me that Thanh Thanh had just secured a stable job and begged me not to ruin her future.

With every single word he uttered, Han Duc Hai’s complexion turned another shade of ash. Ma Xao Van shrieked in panic.

Mr. Han, do not go around casting baseless accusations!

Over all these years, our household has spent a considerable sum on the two of you.

I pulled out the utility bills she had brought earlier and spread them out across the chair.

Spent on us?

A water bill amounting to thirty-seven yuan, and a pharmacy receipt for fifty-two yuan.

You pocketed my father’s monthly allowance of fourteen thousand eight hundred and fifty yuan every single month for twelve consecutive years.

And now you pull out a few paltry miscellaneous receipts and dare to call that taking care of us?

A patient’s family member poked their head out from the neighboring room. Someone muttered in a low voice that these people were utterly devoid of a conscience. Another remarked that it took a truly heartless monster to prey on their own flesh and blood. Finally, Han Duc Hai could no longer maintain his composure. He ground his teeth and hissed: Han Thanh, just what on earth is it that you want? I enunciated every single word with chilling clarity: Hand over the card.

Provide a full and transparent accounting of the funds over the past twelve years.

And retract every single document you used to coerce my father into transferring the ownership of his house to your name.

Han Duc Hai stared intently at me, his eyes brimming with venomous malice.

In your dreams.

Abruptly, he shifted his gaze to my father.

Brother, I will ask you this one last time.

Do you truly intend to let her carry on with this investigation?

Do not forget who stepped forward to take the fall for you back when the new production line scandal broke out.

My father’s body swayed unsteadily. I rushed forward to catch him.

Father.

He closed his eyes, keeping them shut for a long, agonizing moment before finally opening them.

I did nothing wrong.

I should not have spent twelve long years living in fear.

Those words struck the corridor like a heavy iron nail driven deep into wood. At last, Han Duc Hai’s expression cracked entirely. It was no longer a look of mere intimidation. It was absolute panic. At that precise moment,Duong Vy came running down the hall holding my phone.

Han Thanh, the social security office is calling you back.

I snatched the phone. The voice of the hall administrator on the line was frantic.

Ms. Han, someone just came to the bank attempting to report your father’s allowance card lost and apply for a replacement.

We have already synchronized our records over here.

The perpetrator hasn’t finished the paperwork yet; if you hurry over now, you might still catch them in the act.

I whipped my head around to glare at Han Duc Hai. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Han Viet’s hand stealthily retreating toward his pocket. I lunged forward, grabbing his wrist with a vice-like grip. The screen of his phone was still illuminated, displaying an unsent text message: Dad, the bank says the account holder has to be present in person; if the old man doesn’t show up, we can’t transfer the funds.

The color drained entirely from Han Viet’s face. I tightened my grip on his wrist.

Are you currently at the bank?

Or is someone else there acting on your instructions?

He shoved me away with all his might.

What business is it of yours what I look at on my phone?

I spat back: Because you are trying to siphon off the money. Han Duc Hai strode forward rapidly, his hand reaching out to snatch the device away. Duong Vy immediately stepped in front of me, blocking his path.

What do you think you are snatching?

Does the truth hit a little too close to home?

A nurse in the corridor shouted loudly: A patient has just come out of surgery, family members please refrain from making a scene in the hallway!

I forced the blazing fury down in my chest.

Father, come with me to the bank.

My father glanced anxiously toward the operating room doors. I knew he was worried sick about my mother. Duong Vy immediately chimed in: Leave her to me; I will watch over her.

Hurry up and go, both of you.

Finally, my father gave a solemn nod. When we hailed a cab and arrived at the designated bank branch, two security guards were already stationed by the entrance. The branch manager spotted my father and immediately hurried over.

Are you Mr. Han Duc Xuong?

My father nodded. The manager let out a visible sigh of relief.

Thank goodness you have arrived.

Just moments ago, an individual presented a duplicate of your identification card along with an outdated power of attorney, demanding to report your allowance card lost and transfer the entire remaining balance.

I demanded: Where is that person? The manager pointed toward the seating area. A man in a grey jacket was sitting there, his head bowed low, hiding his face beneath the brim of a cap. The very second my father recognized him, his voice altered completely.

Phuong Ve Dong.

Phuong Ve Dong slowly raised his head, his complexion looking utterly ghastly. He scrambled to his feet, intending to slip away. A security guard stepped forward and blocked his path.

Sir, your banking transaction has not yet been fully processed and cleared.