Chapter 9 — When the Wind Crosses the Porch

The watch repair shop is located between a gold shop and a closed tea shop. The sign only had two words left: "Minh Phat", the rest was peeled off by the rain. The old worker inside did not look up when Mai gave him the piece of paper.

“What time does your father set?” he asked.

“Seventeen past nine.”

“Who did he meet?”

“Maybe see you.”

The craftsman put down the watch. “I don't remember.”

“What is your name?”

"Bright."

Quan looked at the cabinets full of gears. “You once fixed a clock that stopped at 9:17?”

Mr. Minh stopped. “Many clocks stop at many hours.”

Mai took out the watch from the trunk. Kim was still standing at 9:17, the glass surface cracked. Mr. Minh took it and flipped the back cover. Inside there is a very thin piece of paper, rolled around the wheel.

“Your father gave me this seven years ago,” he said. “He told me to change the mainspring but keep the time.”

“Do you fix it?”

"No. You said when someone brings key number 17, I'll hand it over."

Mai gave the key. Mr. Minh looked but did not immediately accept it.

“I waited a long time,” he said.

“You waited because my father told me?”

“Because he paid for the repair in advance and told me not to ask.”

He opened the drawer and took out a small wooden box. Inside was a roll of microfilm, a receipt, and a fish-shaped lock. The receipt states that the sender is Phuc, the recipient is Minh Phat store, and says "equipment preservation".

Mai looked at him. “Phuc also knows the watch?”

"He once came to ask. I said I paid."

“You lied to protect my father?”

"I don't like people using money to buy memories. Phuc paid three times, but I didn't deliver."

The film roll contains a photo of the original paper that was once held by Mai's father. The image is blurry but clearly shows the cooperative seal, seven signatures, and a note: "Only transfer rights after seven households receive enough money."

“Where is the original?”

Mr. Minh pointed to the fish-shaped lock. "Your father sent it to someone else, not me. I just kept the backup photo."

“Who is that person?”

“A girl sells lottery tickets next to the market.”

Mai thought she heard wrong. Mr. Minh explained: the girl named Nhi often sat in front of the shop. Mai's father gave her an envelope and told her that if anyone asked, give it back to the person with key number 17. Nhi left town after her mother died, no one knew where she went.

“Is it so important for a child to keep the original?” Quan asked.

“Your father believes in people no one else thinks about.”

Mai remembers the names in the book: small sums of money, people considered voiceless. Her father always chose a place where the truth was rarely found.

Mr. Minh gave the photo to Mai, but kept the receipt. "Don't put my name on the application if you don't need to. I'm old, I don't want people banging on my door."

“Can you testify where the photo came from?”

"Yes. When needed, I will speak."

Quan checked the date on the film roll. It was taken the day after the meeting, before the warehouse was locked. That means Mai's father had time to back up the original, but had not yet had time to retrieve it.

Mai called Thu. She said he could help apply for a record preservation order, but she needed to identify Nhi. They asked Mr. Minh for his old address. He only knew that Nhi used to rent a room at Mrs. Mui's house near the bus station.

Mrs. Mui is selling banh can. Hearing Nhi's name, she sighed. "She works in the city, but sends me money every month. She has no fixed address."

“Do you have a phone number?”

“Old number. Try calling.”

Phone number has been discontinued. Mai left a message, without expectations. In the afternoon, a strange social network account replied: "I'm Nhi. Don't look for me."

Mai typed: “What did my father send you?”

Nhi did not answer.

Quan said: "Don't force it. The original holder may be being watched."

Mai sent a photo of the fish-shaped lock and the line: "I don't want to take it. I want to protect the people whose names are on the paper."

Nhi replied after an hour: "I once gave it to someone. That person said he would keep it safe."

"Who?"

“A teacher.”

Mai thinks about her old school. The teacher in charge of the scholarship has retired, but may still keep in touch.

While they searched, Vinh sent Mai an email, not a text message. He proposed to meet at the company office with the lawyers of both sides, with a promise to provide "internal documents proving that Phuc arbitrarily edited the file".

Letter advising you to go, with audio recording and witnesses. Mai chose Sau Luu to go with her, Quan waited outside.

Huong Duong office overlooks the sea, the glass is so bright that you can't see inside. Vinh sat in the meeting room, without Phuc. He placed a file of documents and a USB on the table.

“Phuc used my account to transfer three boxes of documents,” Vinh said. "I signed the delivery form because he said it was a procedure. I didn't know the records had been changed."

Mai asked: "Do you know the remaining money in your account?"

“I know there is a transfer to your father.”

"Purpose?"

“To keep support money while the cooperative changes accounts.”

“Are there any documents?”

Vinh pushed an old email. The sender is Phuc, clearly stating "temporary transfer for processing". "You were wrong because you didn't check. But you didn't take anyone's land."

“I still signed.”

“Because I trust my family.”

“What about my father?”

Vinh was silent. "He knew I signed it. He said if I changed it, he would make everything public. I asked him for time."

“Time for what?”

“Let Phuc return the documents.”

“Is he perfect?”

"Are not."

Vinh gave the USB. In it are email copies, system access history and a recording of the conversation between him and Phuc. Phuc said: "Just sign, the project will be resolved later if you have money." Vinh replied: "If exposed, the person who will die will be my brother."

Mai turned off the phone. “You know my father could be harmed.”

“I didn't think they would push him to that extent.”

“Not thinking is not innocent.”

Vinh bowed his head. "I know."

He gave another contract. "Phuc is trying to buy back her family's land through Hao. I have signed the company's authorization cancellation form, but it has not been announced yet."

"Why?"

"Because if it is announced, the project will collapse. Hundreds of people will lose their jobs."

“And if not, seven households lose their land.”

"I know."

Mai looked at him. There are people who are not completely bad, but their delay still causes real consequences. She cannot use Vinh's regret to erase what he signed.

“Will you testify?”

"Necessary."

“No. We need you to do it now.”

Vinh looked at her, then nodded.

Outside, Quan received news that Nhi had sent her old teacher's address: a vocational training center in the neighboring city. Nhi did not hand over the original copy, but said the teacher was keeping a box of documents sent under another name.

Mai and Quan left the office. Sau Luu kept copies of Vinh's documents and divided them into three bags. Before getting in the car, Hanh called. She said someone left a box in front of the gate, without a name on it.

Mai returns. The box is an old mini sewing machine. Inside there was no paper, only a piece of cloth embroidered with a fish image and the words: "The original does not belong to the person who holds it."

Nhi sent another text message: "The teacher didn't keep it. She just passed it on to the person who passed away."

Mai called back. “Who is lost?”

“Your father.”

“So where is the original?”

“He put it in something he believed people would keep.”

Mai looked around the house: the sewing machine, the radio, the clock, the marked wall, the well. She remembered the line on the box: "Not ours."

“Nhi, have you seen where my father keeps the papers?”

The reply message had only one photo. That's the porch, taken from outside the gate. On the wooden pillar there is a small carving in the shape of a fish, with its head facing inwards.

Mai ran to the porch, used a thin knife to peel off the paint around the engraving. A small bamboo tube slid out, inside was a piece of oiled paper and another key.

The piece of paper said: "If you can read it, please return it to the seven houses before returning it to me."

The key does not open the trunk or cabinet. It has the symbol of the abandoned church where Ms. Tam gave the memory card.

Quan looked at the symbol. “Your father sent the original to people in the community.”

Mai understood Nhi's sentence. The original does not lie with the person who holds it; it lies in the promises of those who share it.

That night, seven households checked the houses again. Mrs. Lai found a medicine box with a receipt signed by Mai's father. Mr. Dat found a photo of the boat engine. Ms. Tam remembers another meeting.

Each individual piece is just a memory. Combined, they form the path of money and paper.

Mai sent everything to Thu. She replied: "It's enough to ask for emergency measures. But tomorrow the company can bring in the machine to measure. Prepare everyone."

Mai looked at the house, where the sealing tape had been removed but the glue stain was still on the gate. She realized the war was no longer in the warehouse or the office. It will come straight to the front porch.

Hanh put the fish-shaped ring in the file box. “Can you give it back to Phuc?”

“After he said where it came from.”

“I don't want to keep it.”

“Me too.”

Mother and daughter placed their hands on the box. Outside, the wind changed direction, blowing from the sea to the land. A heavy damp smell pervaded the porch, signaling an approaching depression.

Mai opens the timeline, adding a milestone: 9:17 — key sent via community.

At the bottom of the screen, lawyer Thu sent a message: "The court accepts the application to preserve the status quo. Tomorrow at 9 o'clock, the company must explain."

Mai looked at the clock. The hand shows 9:17 because she hasn't adjusted it since the day she picked it up.

In the house, Hanh said for the first time: "Mai, if something happens, don't stay for me."

Mai replied: "I stay because I choose to. I don't need to use fear to keep me anymore."

The low pressure hasn't arrived yet, but the roof is already shaking. The old house survived another night, and the people in it began to learn how to stand next to each other without anyone having to stand for the other.