Chapter 19 — Wind and Snow Falling, Ancient People Return

Judgment Day

The fourteenth day came faster than Diep Khanh imagined, but every minute of it passed cruelly slowly. That morning, the fog in Fog Alley was so thick that standing at the mouth of the alley it was impossible to see the roof of the flower shop, as if the sky itself was pulling down a gray curtain to avoid witnessing what was about to happen. According to the announcement, representatives of Van Hoa Cao Nguyen and the bailiff would arrive at the store at nine o'clock in the morning to seal the assets, paving the way for the auction procedure to take place in the following days if there is no timely intervention. Diep Khanh couldn't sleep more than two hours last night. She lay looking at the ceiling, mentally counting the hours, imagining a piece of sealed paper taped to the exact rolling door her mother had pulled up every morning for more than twenty years, and every time she imagined it, she had to sit up, hugging her knees with both hands until the suffocation passed.

Ms. Tam Nghien showed up early, standing quietly in the corner of the alley with a few other neighbors, her hands clasped tightly around the hem of her sweater, her eyes never leaving the flower shop door. News of the incident had spread throughout the small alley in recent days, and even though they could not help legally, the neighbors still came, standing in a silent arc behind Diep Khanh, like a thin human wall but warm enough for her to not feel completely alone in this cold morning.

Diep Khanh stood in front of the flower shop, her fingers running through each petal in the display basket, trying to remember the scent, the moisture of the dew still on the petals, the feeling of the stems under the skin of her hands, as if she was memorizing something before it could disappear forever. On her wrist, under the sleeve of her sweater, she still wore a silver bracelet engraved with two interlocking letters. She didn't plan to wear it today, but in the morning, when standing in front of the mirror, her fingers automatically reached for it from the wooden box, as if looking for a small support in the midst of an oncoming storm.

Lam Tuyen stood next to her, her eyes never leaving her watch, occasionally looking at the end of the alley, where the fog was still covered in just a few dozen meters. "Viet Bang said he would arrive before nine o'clock, bringing the documents that had been received by the authorities," she said, her voice trying to reassure, but the hand holding Diep Khanh's hand was cold and trembling slightly. "Just need to be on time."

Diep Khanh nodded, unable to say anything more. Her heart beat heavily, slowly but painfully, as if her very chest was being gradually tightened by someone with an invisible rope.

At exactly nine o'clock, a car from the Van Hoa Cao Nguyen company stopped in front of the store. There was no hesitation like before. The legal representative stepped down first, followed by the bailiff, already holding a roll of sealed paper with a red seal and a small bag of tools. Cung Vinh Vuong was also present, standing back behind the car, his hands buried deep in his coat pockets, his shoulders hunched as if trying to minimize his presence among the dozens of eyes focused on the group.

"Hello Ms. Diep Khanh, today we came to conduct the sealing procedure in accordance with the law." The legal representative said, without looking directly at her, his hand had begun to unroll the sealing paper, his eyes turned completely to the rolling door.

"Please wait." Diep Khanh stepped forward to block the door, her voice trembling but she did not retreat. "I have filed an official complaint with the competent authority about the legality of this contract, requesting to suspend all asset disposal procedures during the review period."

"The complaint does not automatically have a temporary effect unless there is an official decision from the competent authority." The legal representative replied, his voice unwavering, his hand continuing to manipulate the scroll. "If you do not have an official document confirming the suspension, we will be forced to proceed according to the announced deadline."

Diep Khanh took a deep breath. She bent down and pulled out the old tin box from the cloth bag she was carrying, which she had been holding onto all night as a last talisman. She opened the lid of the box right on the steps, amidst the stunned eyes of both the representative and the surrounding crowd.

"Then before you seal it, I hope you, and everyone present here, will listen to a few things I have to say." Her voice rang out clearer than she thought, no longer trembling like a moment ago. She pulled out each yellowed receipt and held it up in front of the representative. "This is the delivery receipt for the third week of last month's gladiolus, three hundred stems, signed by the delivery person. And here is the invoice your company sent for that same delivery, five hundred stems. This is the invoice for the month immediately before, exactly the same, the difference is exactly two hundred stems, not a single one off from the next month. I have eleven full months of receipts like this, sorted by date, number by number, which no one in your company wants me to keep, but mother I've been taught to do that since the first day I picked up a pair of pruning shears."

The legal representative paused for a moment, his eyes quickly glanced over the yellowed papers in Diep Khanh's hand, there was a moment of confusion running across his otherwise dry face. But he quickly regained his familiar stiffness. "Ms. Khanh, this is a civil dispute that needs to be tried in court, not something I can arbitrarily decide right here. Sorry, we still have to proceed on time."

He nodded to the bailiff. This person walked up the steps, holding a roll of sealing paper with the adhesive layer peeled off the back, and walked towards the edge of the rolling door. The crowd behind suddenly fell silent, only the sound of dew dripping from the eaves onto the tile floor, as regular as a countdown clock. Lam Tuyen held Diep Khanh's arm tightly, her knuckles turned white. Ms. Tam Nghien put her hand to her mouth, a soft sob escaped. The piece of sealed paper, bright red, was just less than an inch from the edge of the wooden door.

At that moment, the sound of car brakes rang out at the end of the alley, echoing through the thick fog like a bell. A car door opened before the car could stop completely. Bach Du rushed out and ran the rest of the way because the alley was too narrow for the car to go deep. Behind was Viet Bang, holding a file tightly in his hand, running after Minh Lam.

"Stop!" Bach Du shouted loudly, his breathing was interrupted, one hand raised high as if he could block the distance with his own arm. He pressed close to the bailiff's side just as the sealing paper grazed the wooden edge of the door before being pasted down.

"Please stop." Viet Bang said, panting, holding up an official document still wet with red ink. "This is a decision to temporarily suspend the implementation of asset handling procedures, issued by the authorities based on the complaint and evidence we have provided about signs of systematic fraud in this contract."

The bailiff stopped mid-step, the sealed piece of paper hanging less than a centimeter from the edge of the door. The legal representative grabbed the document, skimmed it, his face flashed with confusion before trying to maintain composure. "We need time to verify the authenticity of this document."

"You can contact the document-issuing agency directly for verification. The phone number and reference code are clearly stated there." Viet Bang replied, his voice still panting but full of certainty. "While waiting for verification, I request you to temporarily suspend all sealing actions in accordance with regulations."

The legal representative reluctantly nodded, signaled the bailiff to back the roll of paper away from the door, then turned around the corner, pressing the phone to his ear. The entire alley was engulfed in a thick silence, with only the steady ringing sound coming from the speaker of his phone, interrupted by the holding breaths of dozens of people standing around. The mist seemed to get thicker by the second, clinging to droplets in her hair, on her shoulders, and even on the piece of red sealing paper that was now neatly folded in the bailiff's hand. Diep Khanh stood there, still clutching the tin box with both hands, not daring to breathe loudly, afraid that even a small noise would be enough to break this fragile moment.

While waiting, Bach Du turned to Cung Vinh Vuong, who was quietly backing away towards the car, as if planning to avoid him before things went too far. Minh Lam quickly blocked the path, without using force, simply standing in the way, his eyes looking straight and meaningful.

"Mr. Vuong, I think you shouldn't go now." Bach Du said, stepping closer, his voice was low but full of weight.

"I have nothing more to say to you guys." Cung Vinh Vuong replied, his voice was rough but his hand tightening the handle of his bag trembled uncontrollably.

"So let me tell you." Viet Bang stepped forward, pulled out two sheets of paper from his briefcase, one was so old that the ink was almost unreadable, the other was clear and sharp. "This is a copy of the old capital contribution document we got many weeks ago, so blurry that we can only read the first half of a name. And this is the full copy, with no more blurry spots. Ta Bao Tram, seventy percent of the original capital contribution. How long do you think it took us to go from one piece of paper to the other? And I think, if the case goes to court today, as the only officially named director on the entire current file, who will be held criminally responsible first—you, or the person who promptly withdrew from the papers three years ago?"

Cung Vinh Vuong stood still, his eyes glued to the two pieces of paper, his jaw trembled but he couldn't say a word. Bach Du continued, his voice softer but no less assertive. "We have enough evidence to show that you are just the person in your name, while the person actually running and benefiting from this company is another person. If this incident comes to light, you will be the one who bears the heaviest legal responsibility, while the person who is really behind it may try to deny all responsibility, exactly like how she withdrew her name from the documents that year."

"You guys don't understand." Cung Vinh Vuong burst out, his voice cracking from a pressure that had been pent up for too long. "I'm just an employee, every month I receive a salary to put my name on, to sign documents according to instructions. I have a family, I have small children, I can't..."

He left his sentence unfinished, his shoulders shaking. Diep Khanh, still standing by the shop door with the tin box in her hand, took a step closer, not with anger, but with an unusual calmness that she did not expect to have at this moment.

"Mr. Vuong." She said, her voice gentle but firm. "I don't know if you have young children, but I know one thing: this flower shop is also the only thing my mother left for me before she passed away. If you stay silent today, you will help one person continue to take away what others no longer have a chance to get back, just like my flower shop was almost lost, like other flower shops that were really lost before me. You can choose to continue to be the one hiding behind your nameplate, or you can be the first to tell the truth, before too late for even you."

Cung Vinh Vuong looked at her, there was such a long silence that the whole alley seemed to stop breathing. Then he closed his eyes and let out a long breath as if releasing a rock that had weighed heavily on his shoulders for many months.

"Okay." He said, his voice hoarse. "I'll say everything. But I need legal assurance for myself."

Viet Bang, having just received a confirmation signal from the legal representative, was nodding repeatedly into the phone, turned back in time to hear this sentence, and immediately seized the opportunity. "Mr. Vuong, if you proactively cooperated in providing truthful information about who actually ran the company and ordered the false billing practices, that would be a significant mitigating factor when considering your liability."

Cung Vinh Vuong nodded, his shoulders slumped. "All activities of Van Hoa Cao Nguyen, from making false invoices to the mortgage clauses inserted in the contract, are under the direct instructions of Ms. Ta Bao Tram. I am just the person in her name, receiving a monthly fee to do exactly what she requested, including intentionally blurring copies of old records before anyone could request an excerpt of the original."

That testimony rang out in the middle of a small alley, in the presence of the legal representative who had just closed the phone with a pale expression, along with the bailiff and dozens of neighbors who had gathered to watch the incident from early on. A lonely clap rang out somewhere in the crowd, then quickly spread into a bustling round of applause, mixed with the sighs of relief from many people at the same time. Diep Khanh stood still, the tin box still held in her hand, feeling as if a rock that had been weighing her down for the past fourteen days had just been completely lifted from her chest, leaving behind a dizzying lightness.

"Valid document." The legal representative spoke, his voice now losing its original stiffness, signaling the bailiff to put the sealing roll back in his tool bag. "We temporarily stopped the procedure as requested, and will record Mr. Vuong's testimony to transfer it to the investigation agency for handling according to process."

Van Hoa Cao Nguyen's car left in heavy silence, leaving behind an alley that had just experienced a big storm but had finally found a way out. Cung Vinh Vuong boarded the vehicle of the authorities who were called in immediately afterward to take an official statement; Before leaving, he turned to look at Diep Khanh once, bowed slightly, did not say another word, but his eyes carried something close to gratitude.

Diep Khanh stood silently in the middle of the gradually dispersing crowd, her knees buckled, luckily Lam Tuyen was able to catch her. She looked up, her eyes looking to Bach Du, who just turned back to look at her with a relieved smile, his chest was still heaving from the distance he had just run as if he had exhausted all his strength. In that moment, all the distance, all the defensive walls that she had tried to build over the past few days seemed to completely disappear, leaving only a feeling of deep gratitude and a genuine hope that was gradually rekindling in her heart.

"Thank you." She spoke, her eyes red, her voice breaking mid-sentence, her hand still clutching the tin box as if afraid that if she let go, she would lose the miracle that had just happened. "Thank you for not giving up, even though I tried to push you away."

"I promised I wouldn't leave you to face this alone." Bach Du walked closer, breathing still fast, but his eyes contained so much love that had been suppressed for a long time. He gently touched the tin box in her hand, then gently touched her wrist, where the old silver bracelet was still there. "And I won't let anything separate us again."

All around, the whispers of the neighbors gradually turned into gentle applause, mixed with sighs of relief. Ms. Tam Nghien walked over and hugged Diep Khanh, her voice trembling with emotion. "You see, God does not disappoint good people. Aunt Yen is definitely smiling up there, and she is probably very proud, because the habit of keeping receipts she taught me, in the end, is what saved her entire career."

Lam Tuyen also ran over and hugged both of them, tears and smiles mixed on her face. "I told you, don't give up, see!" She cried and laughed, her voice completely lost. Viet Bang stood next to him, neatly folding up the file he had just used to successfully protect his client. His eyes shone with the satisfaction of a person who had just completed his responsibility. Minh Lam patted Bach Du's shoulder, didn't say much, just nodded in understanding, as a congratulation to his friend who persevered until the last minute.

The mist at the top of the alley, in a moment, seemed to thin out a bit, revealing the first streaks of morning sunlight filtering through the tiled roof, shining down on the water-soaked gladiolus basket in front of Diep Suong's shop - as if this street itself had just breathed a sigh of relief along with all the people standing there.