Chapter 7 — The Ten-Yuan Donation

On the day my crowdfunding account was frozen, the platform did not just receive a complaint from Ha Thanh Le. The Risk Management Department of Thinh Corporation had also issued an official directive.

My breath hitched. The header of the document clearly read: "Risk Management Department, Thinh Corporation." The content stated: "Requesting the platform to temporarily suspend all projects related to Tang Van Ngung, in order to prevent the exploitation of the corporation’s name for deceptive fundraising activities."

The approver: Thinh Canh Xuyen. I looked up at him. All the color had drained from his face.

"I signed it."

"After Ha Thanh Le filed her complaint, the risk management team brought the document to me. I did not look at the medical reports, nor did I ask you about it. I simply signed."

The conference room fell into a silence so profound that only the hum of the air conditioner remained. He continued, his voice hollow: "The restriction on your secondary credit card was also signed by me. I was afraid you would make a scene, afraid that the media would draw attention to Thinh Corporation, and worried that the Ha family’s banquet would be affected."

"I was afraid of everything I felt I needed to fear. The only thing I wasn't afraid of was that your younger brother would die."

I stared at him for a long, agonizing moment before asking, "Are you telling me this now because you want me to praise you for your honesty?"

His eyes were rimmed with red. "No. I was afraid that you would find out from someone else later. I didn't want to continue deceiving you."

I picked up the document, reading every single page. It turned out that the one hundred and thirty-six thousand I couldn't raise wasn't just a missed financial opportunity. It was my own husband systematically slamming every door shut. The loans. The crowdfunding. The secondary card. The charitable support channels. He had forced me to find a way out, while simultaneously blocking every path I took. I placed the document back on the table.

"Thinh Canh Xuyen, I used to think Yu An died because we were short one hundred and thirty-six thousand."

"Now I realize he died because of your signature."

His body shuddered violently. I stood up. "I will be submitting these documents to the court and handing them over to the police."

As I reached the door, I paused. That evening, Lawyer Ha had sent me a scanned file. In the supplementary statement from a retired safety officer, one line was circled in red: "On the night of the fire, before Tang Yu An entered the flames for the second time, he was told that there was someone still inside."

"The person who informed him: Ha Niem Tu."

Below that was another note: "Following the incident, the Ha family received a sum of hush money. The payer was not Thinh Canh Xuyen, but the Office of the Chairman of Thinh Corporation."

I stared at those words, my fingers tightening until they ached. Ha Niem Tu hadn't entered the fire herself, but she knew someone was still inside. She had sent Yu An in. The next day, I went to the police station with Lawyer Ha. The bags of evidence were laid out on the table: the old cufflink, the recording from the scene, the dashcam footage, the risk management directive, the request to disable the fire suppression system, the trail of hush money. Individually, none of these items seemed heavy. But when stacked together, they were like a tombstone.

During the deposition, the officer asked, "To what extent do you wish to pursue this?"

I replied, "To the maximum extent the law permits. The signer, the falsifier, the recipient, and those who covered it up—I want no one left out."

As I stepped out of the police station, I saw Thinh Canh Xuyen standing by the entrance. He didn't approach; he only watched me. "My father has been taken in for questioning."

I said, "Congratulations."

His expression turned deathly pale. I continued walking. He called out from behind me, "Van Ngung, they found Ha Niem Tu’s diary."

I stopped. He handed me a copy. In her diary, Ha Niem Tu had written clearly: the night of the fire, she saw Thinh Canh Xuyen trapped. She was too terrified to go in. When she saw Tang Yu An running toward them, she told him: "There is still someone inside. He is your brother-in-law. You cannot choose not to save him."

Yu An went in. Ha Niem Tu stood outside. She picked up a cufflink. Then, the fire roared back, and she was overcome by smoke and collapsed. After being taken to the hospital, she did not survive. Before she died, she gave the cufflink to the head of the Ha family. She said, "If the Thinh family asks, tell them I saved him. I’m dying anyway. Thanh Le cannot be left without someone to look after her."

After reading, my fingers felt numb and frozen. It wasn't because of the surprise, but because Yu An was so incredibly tragic. He was only sixteen. Pushed into the inferno by the words "he is your brother-in-law." After he sacrificed himself, he was forgotten by everyone. The Ha family traded his life for wealth. The Thinh family traded his silence for their reputation. Thinh Canh Xuyen viewed his illness as a bottomless pit. And I, his sister, only discovered the truth after he was already gone.

Thinh Canh Xuyen’s voice was raspy. "The original has been handed to the police. My father admitted that he accepted the Ha family’s explanation back then because he wanted to cover up the accident."

"Because someone who is dead is much easier to deal with than someone who is injured and still alive."

I looked up at him. "Easier to deal with?"

His eyes were filled with agony. "Those were his exact words."

I let out a hollow laugh.