Chapter 4 — The Ten-Yuan Donation

I picked up the pen.

“Confirmed.”

The moment I finished the final stroke, footsteps echoed behind me.

“Van Ngung.”

Thinh Canh Xuyen’s voice was so raspy it was barely recognizable. I did not turn around. He spoke:

“I didn't know. I truly didn't know.”

I handed the confirmation paper to the staff member and turned to face him.

“I know.”

Thinh Canh Xuyen’s eyes turned bloodshot instantly. I continued:

“You didn’t know he once saved your life, but you knew he was waiting for life-saving funds. You didn’t know why he had been sick all these years, but you knew he was lying on an operating table. You didn’t know the Ha family had deceived you, but you knew I had begged you for help.”

With every sentence, the color drained further from his face. I pulled my phone from my pocket and transferred ten yuan to him. In the note, I wrote:

“Repaying the donation.”

A notification chime sounded on Thinh Canh Xuyen’s phone. I said:

“Your money has been returned. Your ‘favor’ has been settled by my younger brother. From this moment on, you and the Tang family owe each other nothing!”

He suddenly looked up.

“It cannot be calculated that way.”

“Then how should it be calculated? With the rehabilitation sessions in Switzerland? With Ha Thanh Le’s personal car? Or with the ten yuan you threw at my brother?”

He could not utter a single word. I pulled the note that Du An had left behind from my pocket and held it out before him:

“Sister, if I don’t make it, don’t beg him anymore. I only want you to live a good life.”

Thinh Canh Xuyen stared at the handwriting, his fingers trembling violently. I asked:

“Even at the point of death, he was afraid of making things difficult for me. Thinh Canh Xuyen, are you even worthy of that?”

His tears fell—heavy, pathetic. But I felt nothing. At that moment, Ha Thanh Le came running after us.

“CEO Thinh, please, listen to my explanation! My sister didn't mean to steal the credit; I just wanted to preserve what she left behind.”

Thinh Canh Xuyen turned his head slowly.

“Preserve what? The villa the Thinh family provided for the Ha family? Or your four years of tuition? Or the position the Thinh Group reserved for you? Or the rehabilitation care I purchased for you simply because you had a scratched ankle?”

Ha Thanh Le shook her head, sobbing.

“I didn't want to hurt Tang Du An.”

I looked at her coldly.

“When you filed the complaint against his fundraising page, did you not think about that then?”

The crying stopped abruptly. Thinh Canh Xuyen turned back to me.

“What complaint?”

I opened the receipt from the platform’s customer service department. The account that filed the complaint was the verified corporate account of the Thinh Group. The login device was registered to Ha Thanh Le’s employee ID. The content of the complaint read:

“The fundraiser is exploiting the status of the Thinh Group CEO’s wife to conduct fraudulent donations; suggest freezing the account.”

After reading it, the light in Thinh Canh Xuyen’s eyes grew deathly cold. Ha Thanh Le retreated.

“I was only afraid of affecting the Thinh Group. I did it for you!”

Thinh Canh Xuyen suddenly laughed. The sound was more jagged and painful than any weeping.

“So you went ahead and disposed of his life-saving funds.”

Ha Thanh Le rushed forward to grab his sleeve.

“I didn't know the consequences would be this severe.”

Thinh Canh Xuyen shook her off. He ignored her, focusing entirely on me.

“Van Ngung, I will investigate this thoroughly. The Ha family, the hospital, the platform, and the internal staff of Thinh Group—whoever had a hand in this, I will uncover it.”

I said:

“Tell that to the police. Do not come looking for me.”

He stiffened. I continued:

“You are not worthy of handling Du An’s funeral arrangements. You are not worthy of speaking his name. You are not worthy of touching his remains. And you are certainly not worthy of kneeling before his grave.”

Thinh Canh Xuyen’s throat bobbed.

“I just want to see him off for one last stretch.”

I looked at him.

“When he was alive, you drove him away with ten yuan. Now that he is dead, you no longer need to play the part!”

I turned and walked away. Behind me, the elderly doctor placed a pair of cufflinks into an evidence bag. The sound of the seal clicking shut was soft—as if six years of lies were being locked away forever. I did not hold the memorial service in the hall arranged by the Thinh family. I chose the smallest chapel in the funeral home. There were no walls of flowers, no grandiose eulogies, and no mention of the Thinh Group. There was only Du An’s photograph. In it, he wore a white shirt, his smile clear and untainted. The staff member asked:

“Are you sure you don’t want to list his place of employment or family affiliation?”

I replied:

“Leave it blank. He was not an appendage to anyone.”

Before the ceremony began, Thinh Canh Xuyen arrived. He wore a black suit, carrying a bouquet of white chrysanthemums. Behind him, two assistants carried a large sign:

“The Thinh Group Du An Heart Disease Support Foundation Preparatory Committee.”

I stood in the doorway.

“Take it away.”

Thinh Canh Xuyen immediately turned around.

“Take it down.”

The assistants froze. He barked the order, his voice stern:

“I said take it down!”

The sign was carried away. Thinh Canh Xuyen looked at me.

“Van Ngung, I just want to do something.”

“Do whatever you want, just don’t use his name.”

He nodded.

“Fine, I won’t use his name. I just want to go inside.”

I stood firmly in the doorway.

“Get out!”

He said: