Chapter 9 — The Switched Heiress: The Battle for Wealth

One sentence kept echoing in Bich Van's head for three consecutive days, so clearly that sometimes she thought Diem Thu was still standing right in front of her, her voice trembling in her ears: that person understood even the terms of Uncle Bao Long's would. It wasn't the sensational headlines on the newspaper, it wasn't the red numbers dancing on the stock price list every morning, but it was those eight words that kept her awake until dawn every night, the things she couldn't get out of her head even in the middle of any urgent meeting.

Three days after the party, Bich Van's private office at the headquarters of Chuong Phat Group became the only shelter that helped her temporarily escape the media storm surrounding her family. Economic newspapers, electronic news sites, and even entertainment television channels that had nothing to do with the business field all simultaneously reported on the "eighteen-year-old child swapping" scandal at one of the city's largest family corporations. Chuong Phat's shares fell nearly eight percent in the first trading session after the event, causing the board of directors to convene an emergency meeting to discuss a strategy to respond to the media crisis.

She tried to tell herself that she was overreacting, that it was probably just a spontaneous statement from Diem Thu in panic, without any profound meaning. But her intuition, honed over eighteen years of silent observation, stubbornly denied it — no one would make up such an exact detail in a panic, unless it was a truth they had been carrying around for a long time.

She sat in her office, the desk lamp shining on the glossy mahogany table, in front of her was a copy of her father's would - Chuong Bao Long - which she had read and reread countless times in the ten years since his death. The would, along with the founding charter of the corporation, clearly stipulates: control of controlling shares would only be given to direct blood descendants of the Chuong family, and in cases where legal direct descendants cannot be identified, control would be transferred according to a special voting mechanism of the board of directors, where long-time members had the right to vote to decide on the temporary executive.

This was a provision that was not widely publicized. Besides Bich Van, only a few people know the specifics of this special voting mechanism — Trac Minh Thu, who participated in drafting some later legal adjustments; some of the most veteran members of the board of directors, those who had accompanied Mr. Bao Long since the early days and, of course, Ton Hoai Nam, the Vice Chairman of the Board of Directors and also the husband of the official heir.

Bich Van stood up, walked to the window, looked down at the busy traffic below, her mind reeling with a series of hypotheses. Diem Thu, a woman from a humble background who had never worked in the legal or corporate finance field, could hardly have known such profound details on her own in a complex legal document that even many board members did not fully understand.

So who provided Diem Thu with that information, eighteen years ago, when the final version of the would was not even complete?

She returned to her desk and called Trac Minh Thu into the room. The lawyer walked in, his face still showing traces of fatigue after three consecutive days of handling the media crisis and legal issues arising from the case.

"What do you think about Diem Thu's statement that night," Bich Van asked, her voice thoughtful, "about the person behind understanding the terms of my father's will?"

Minh Thu sat down, flipped through a notebook, and pondered for a moment before answering. "I also noticed that detail as soon as she said it. It's not a detail that outsiders can easily know. Uncle Bao Long's will, especially the provision on a special voting mechanism in cases where direct descendants cannot be identified, has never been made public. It is only kept in internal legal files, and as far as I know, only a very few people have access to it."

"Who has access?" Bich Van asked, her sharp eyes looking straight at Minh Thu.

"You, me, and several senior members of the board of directors signed a special confidentiality agreement while Uncle Bao Long was still alive," Minh Thu listed, her voice slow as if she was reviewing the list in her head. "And of course, Mr. Hoai Nam, as the son-in-law and also the co-signer of some documents amending the charter later."

Both women were silent for a long moment, neither wanting to be the first to say what they were both thinking. In the end, Bich Van was the one to break the silence.

"I don't want to rush to conclusions," she said, her voice trying to remain objective even though her insides were churning. "There could be other ways for Diem Thu — or the person behind her — to know this information. Maybe through a former employee who worked in the legal department, maybe through some security lapse that we haven't discovered yet. I need you to help me review the whole thing, discreetly, without letting anyone inside the company know we are investigating in this direction."

"Including Mr. Hoai Nam?" Minh Thu asked, looking at her friend with searching eyes.

Bich Van was silent for a long time, her hands tightened on the edge of the table. "Especially Mr. Hoai Nam," she finally said, her voice small but decisive. "I don't want to believe this is true, Minh Thu. In the eighteen years of marriage, I've never had any concrete evidence that he was involved in the past. But my hunch, right from the first night in the hospital, has always told me that something is wrong with him. I've tried to get rid of that thought all these years, telling myself I'm being suspicious for no reason. But now, after what Diem Thu said, I can't continue to ignore it. Ignore it anymore."

Minh Thu nodded and jotted down a few lines in her notebook. "I will start reviewing the related personal financial transactions that can be connected, as carefully as possible. But Ms. Bich Van, I need you to mentally prepare for the worst possibility. If Mr. Hoai Nam is indeed involved, this will not only be a matter of personal betrayal, but also a long-planned, very sophisticated plot to take over control of the corporation, and you will have to face it not only as a wife, but also as Chairman of the Board of Directors, having to protect an entire inheritance that my father has worked hard to build."

Bich Van looked out the window again, her distant eyes watching the sparkling buildings of the city at night. She thought about Khanh Thi, at home in a state of panic that had not subsided after what she had experienced at the party. She thought about Han Nghi, an innocent young girl who was suffering the consequences of adults' calculations. And she thought about Hoai Nam — the man she had married, shared her bed with for eighteen years, the man who now, maybe, was the one who had silently pulled the strings of her family's entire tragedy from the very first days.

"I will face whatever is necessary," Bich Van said, her voice regaining its familiar stability, although her eyes still held a hint of pain that had not yet healed. "But this time, I won't let my personal feelings get in the way of finding the truth, no matter how cruel that truth is. Let's start with the financial transactions, Minh Thu. If Hoai Nam is really behind this, there will be a trace, no matter how small, and we will find it."

Minh Thu nodded, stood up and prepared to leave the room, but before reaching the door, she turned back, her eyes filled with worry. "Ms. Bich Van, I just want to say that, no matter what the outcome, you are not alone in this. Eighteen years ago I accompanied you, and now I will still be here, until everything is cleared up."

Bich Van smiled, a fragile but sincere smile. "Thank you, Minh Thu. I don't know how I would have managed these past eighteen years without you."

When the office door closed, Bich Van sat alone in the pale darkness of the desk lamp, her hands trembling as she flipped through the pages of her father's would, trying to find any clues that might have been missed over the past eighteen years. Outside, the city still glowed as if nothing had ever happened, but inside this small room, a silent investigation, more dangerous than anything she had ever faced in her business career, had just officially begun.

She folded the would, put it in a separate locked drawer, then turned off the desk lamp and sat quietly in the dark for a long time before leaving the office. On the way home, the image of Hoai Nam standing next to her during the party, his hand protectively placed on her shoulder, kept appearing in her mind, making her wonder how much of those eighteen years of marriage was real, and how much was just a cover built meticulously to perfection.