Chapter 11 — Wedding Day Without Bride

"The real painting there has a white stork. The tip of the wing has a gray dot. That's because when I was six years old, I dropped ink on my mother's white plate. She didn't wipe it away, saying it was the rain I gave her."

The glass of wine in Do Minh Vien's hand was shaking. Hua Tri Ha immediately said: "Who did you hear say that? Anyone could make up a story." Khuong Van turned to Pho Thinh Lan:

“You say it.”

Deputy Thinh Lan did not open his mouth. Because he had seen real paintings. He knew Khuong Van was right. Hua Tri Ha grabbed his sleeve tightly:

“Thin Lan, say something.”

Pho's mother also urged:

"Thin Lan, don't let her destroy Tri Ha."

Pho Thinh Lan looked at Khuong Van, her voice extremely difficult:

“Van Van, don't talk about this anymore today.”

Khuong Van smiled softly:

“You admit it's fake.”

Hua Tri Ha suddenly let go of his sleeve. The guests began to stir. Lao Chau whispered: "Mr. Deputy, where is the real painting?" Pho Thinh Lan's forehead was sweating. Khuong Van pressed one step forward:

“Pho Thinh Lan, where is the real painting?”

Hua Tri Ha suddenly hugged her stomach and squatted down:

“It hurts, it hurts so much.”

Pho Thinh Lan reflexively bent down to support her. Khuong Van stood in front of the fake painting, her voice not loud:

“Today you just need to walk away, I will consider it as your own admission that the painting was lost by you.”

Pho Thinh Lan's hand stopped in midair. Hua Tri Ha cried and shouted: "Thin Lan, baby!" Pho's mother screamed: "Take care of the baby first!" Pho Thinh Lan closed her eyes, picked up Hua Tri Ha and walked out. Khuong Van looked at his back. Lao Chau chased after two steps and then stopped, turned to look at Khuong Van, and for the first time without a word told her to stop making trouble. Khuong Van reached out to take off her sunglasses. The light from the hall chandelier shone directly into her eyes, and she did not dodge it. The Pho family's cousin covered her mouth in surprise. Aunt Trieu was stunned. The glass of wine in Do Minh Vien's hand fell and shattered on the floor. Khuong Van looked towards the door, just as Pho Thinh Lan looked back. Four eyes met. He froze on the spot. Khuong Van asked each word: "Pho Thinh Lan, until now do you still think I can't see anything?" Hua Tri Ha in Pho Thinh Lan's arms stopped crying. She grabbed his collar tightly, her voice high-pitched:

"Thin Lan, I'm in so much pain, please take me to the hospital."

But Pho Thinh Lan just stared into Khuong Van's eyes, as if realizing her for the first time:

“Can you see it?”

Khuong Van did not answer, turned around and walked in front of the fake painting. Do Minh Vien regained consciousness and rushed forward to stop him:

“What do you want to do?”

Khuong Van raised her hand to turn on the hidden latch behind the picture frame, her movements were neat and decisive. The lining behind the picture frame came off, and from inside fell a receipt sandwiched in the middle. Lao Chau quickly picked it up, and after reading it, his face turned pale:

"This is an exchange receipt. The real painting was transported out of the gallery three days ago, the person who signed the receipt is Hua Tri Ha."

Hua Tri Ha's face instantly changed:

"Fake! That's fake!"

Aunt Trieu rushed forward and scolded:

"Just now you opened your mouth to say that Khuong Van is blind and doesn't understand, right? Now that the paper clearly has your name on it, you say it's fake?"

Pho's mother frantically pushed the crowd away:

“Lao Chau, look carefully, don't talk badly."

Lao Chau held up the paper:

“Madam, this is the internal receipt of the gallery, with my stamp on it. It wasn't me who stamped it, but the seal is real.”

The guests' eyes simultaneously focused like daggers towards Hua Tri Ha. Hua Tri Ha grabbed Pho Thinh Lan tightly and did not let go:

“Thin Lan, you have to believe me. It was Khuong Van who harmed me, she saw it long ago, she just pretended to be blind, she is the scary one!”

Pho Thinh Lan looked at Khuong Van, his voice was hoarse:

“When did you recover?”