Chapter 8 — The Secret Pension

Phuong Ve Dong spoke with a chilling, unapologetic tone. “I am done with this.” I stepped forward, blocking his path entirely.

“As a social security office employee, how on earth did you dare take my father’s personal documents to the bank and report his card lost?”

“And yet you stand there claiming you were merely following standard procedure?”

Ve Dong’s eyes turned malicious, a predatory gleam flashing in them. “I was merely assisting citizens in resolving longstanding administrative backlogs.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Which citizens are you referring to?”

“Han Duc Hai?”

He fell silent. The bank manager quickly intervened, gesturing for us to step into a private VIP reception room. Once we were seated, my father’s hands continued to tremble uncontrollably against his knees. The manager pulled up the records on his terminal, speaking with extreme caution.

“The account holder for this supplementary allowance card is indeed Mr. Han Duc Xuong.”

“The card was issued twelve years ago.”

“The registered phone number belongs to Han Duc Hai.”

“The contact address is also listed as Han Duc Hai’s residence.”

“Furthermore, this bank card has never been signed up for real-time transaction alerts.”

I pressed forward. “How was the money withdrawn?” The manager glanced sympathetically at my father.

“The primary cardholder has the legal right to request a complete printed transaction history.”

My father’s teeth clenched. “Print it.” Within minutes, the heavy-duty printer began churning out a thick stack of paper. As I flipped open the first page, my chest felt as though it had been struck by a heavy sledgehammer. Right after the monthly allowances were deposited, almost the entirety of the funds was withdrawn or transferred away within a span of three days. Some amounts went directly to Duc Hai. Others were sent to Ma Thao Van. There were also several substantial expenditures, marked clearly as down payments for a car, wedding deposits, and home renovation costs. I suddenly recalled seeing Han Duc Van’s brand-new car parked right outside our apartment building during various holidays, where he would deliberately lay on the horn. Back then, my father had even praised the young man for being both youthful and successful. My fingers curled tightly into the paper, my fingernails digging so hard into my palms they nearly broke the skin. My father stared unblinkingly at those cold rows of figures, his eyes bloodshot and blazing with suppressed fury.

“To think the very car he drove was bought with my life-saving medicine money.”

No one in the reception room uttered a single word. Even the manager let out a heavy, sorrowful sigh.

“There is still a remaining balance on the card.”

I immediately asked, “How much?” The manager replied, “Over 267,000 yuan.” My father abruptly raised his head. I was equally stunned. Duc Hai and his accomplices had been so desperate to cancel and replace the card precisely because a substantial sum of money was still sitting inside it. I demanded, “Freeze the account immediately.” The manager shook his head apologetically.

“To freeze an account, we require an official directive from judicial or supervisory authorities.”

“However, the legal account holder has the right to change the password immediately, report the old card lost, and apply for a new one on the spot.”

Without hesitation, my father signed his name, had his photograph taken, and completed the mandatory verification process. When the manager finally placed the newly minted card into his trembling palm, it was as if he were holding a piece of burning hot iron.

“Is this truly my money?” he whispered.

I nodded firmly. “Yes.”

“And it is also the money that can save Mother’s life.”

At that exact moment, Ve Dong’s voice suddenly boomed from just outside the door.

“Han Duc Xuong, you had better think this through very carefully.”

“If you insist on taking back this card, there will be no one left to cover up your past mistakes.”

My father stood up slowly, stepping toward the doorway with measured, heavy strides.

“Cover up for whom?”

“For me, or for all of you?”

Ve Dong’s expression shifted instantly. My father’s voice grew steadily stronger and more resonant.

“Back when that equipment accident occurred, I was the one who wrote the emergency shutdown report.”

“That report was duly submitted to the factory administration office.”

“Afterwards, the report mysteriously vanished, and you people tried to force me to sign a liability confirmation form.”

“I refused to sign it.”

“My consent was entirely absent from that so-called liability document.”

Ve Dong offered a cold, sarcastic sneer. “You claim it wasn’t there, but who is going to believe you?”

My father locked eyes with him. “The man who was injured in that accident is still alive today.”

“He knows precisely who gave the order to restart the machinery.”

The color drained entirely from Ve Dong’s face in a flash. My heart tightened in my chest.

“Father, who was that person?”

Before my father could formulate a reply, his phone suddenly rang. It was an unrecognized number. I answered it immediately, and a hoarse, gravelly male voice spoke from the other end.

“Are you the daughter of Engineer Han?”

“Stop looking for the worker who was injured back then.”

“Han Duc Hai has already gotten there first.”