Saw on Camera: Thought the Janitor Was Stealing—But What Happened Next Made the Chairman Fall to His Knees in Tears…

At 5:30 PM on October 15, security camera number 7 at the back gate of Minh Đức Corporation captured a mysterious figure. Mrs. Nguyễn Thị Lan, 65 years old, a janitor who had worked there for nearly 20 years, was seen quietly sneaking into a sealed-off, restricted area.

On the surveillance screen, Mrs. Lan looked around cautiously like a thief. In her hand was a tightly held black cloth bag, and she moved lightly, avoiding the bright lights. This area used to be a garden behind the factory but had been abandoned five years ago when the company expanded its production lines.

Security guard Lê Văn Minh was sipping tea when he noticed unusual movement on the screen. He glanced at it for a few seconds and then turned back to his cup of tea. Mrs. Lan was a familiar face—long-time staff, nothing to worry about.

But why was she entering a restricted area at this hour?

200 meters away, in the 15th-floor meeting room of the office building, the most important strategic meeting of 2024 was underway. Chairman Trần Minh Đức, 42 years old, sat at the head of the table with a serious expression. In front of him was a digital transformation plan worth 500 billion VND.

“Did everyone hear clearly?” he asked. “Starting December 1st, we will fully automate our production line.” Mr. Đức tapped the table. “This is a matter of survival for Minh Đức Corporation to stay competitive with international giants.”

HR Director Lê Văn Hải nodded in agreement.
“Chairman, the data shows we’ll save 60% on labor costs. However, this also means 200 workers will lose their jobs.”
The number—200—cast a heavy silence over the room. It was not an easy decision. Two hundred families would lose their main source of income. But in the ruthless world of business, the survival of the company always comes first.

“Is the list of those to be laid off ready?” Mr. Đức asked.
“Yes, it is.” Mr. Hải opened a folder. The list mostly included manual laborers with long tenure and low productivity—among them was Mrs. Nguyễn Thị Lan, the janitor who had worked for 20 years. Mr. Đức paused his tapping. Her name made him stop and think.

She was the longest-serving employee in the company and had received numerous awards for her dedication. But business has no room for sentiment.

While the meeting continued, the security camera kept recording Mrs. Lan’s strange behavior. She disappeared into the abandoned garden for 45 minutes. When she returned, what caught everyone’s attention was her cloth bag.

When she entered, it had appeared empty—now it was bulging, clearly filled with something. Mrs. Lan looked around again before quickly leaving the area. Her cautious, fearful demeanor resembled that of someone who had just done something wrong.

Security guard Minh was now paying more attention, but since it was Mrs. Lan, someone familiar, he chose to keep watching via the screen rather than checking in person.

At 6:15 PM, the meeting ended. Mr. Đức and the leadership team walked out of the conference room with heavy hearts. Letting go of 200 people was not an easy decision, but it was the price of progress.

Outside in the hallway, 28-year-old Trần Thị Hoa, his meticulous personal secretary, was waiting.
“Chairman, there’s an issue I need to report.”
“What is it, Hoa?”
“It’s about Mrs. Nguyễn Thị Lan.”

“Lately, she’s been acting a bit strange,” Hoa said.

Chairman Đức paused. What a coincidence—he had just mentioned Mrs. Lan in the meeting, and now there was a report about her.

“Strange how?”

“She often stays at the company after work for about 30 to 45 minutes. The security staff reported that she regularly goes into the back garden area, which is off-limits, and she always carries a bag when she leaves.”

This information made Mr. Đức furrow his brows. In the context of an upcoming mass layoff, every unusual behavior needed to be monitored. There had been many instances where employees about to be terminated caused serious incidents.

“Has she said anything?”
“No, sir. Mrs. Lan still works normally. It’s just that she often asks about your son’s health.”

That sentence made Mr. Đức freeze for a moment. Hoa was right. In recent days, Mrs. Lan had indeed frequently inquired about Khôi. At first, they seemed like harmless questions: “Is young Khôi doing well, sir?” or “Is he eating properly?” But over time, they became more specific, asking about his treatment and condition.

At first, he thought it was simply the concern of an elderly woman for the children of people she worked with. But now, combined with her other strange behaviors, he started to feel uneasy.

Trần Minh Khôi, Mr. Đức’s only son, was 22 years old and in his final year at the University of Medicine and Pharmacy in Ho Chi Minh City. He was the pride of the family—intelligent, respectful, and with a dream of becoming a doctor. However, six months ago, Khôi was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disorder.

The illness wasn’t life-threatening but required long-term treatment and regular monitoring. Every week, Khôi had to go to Chợ Rẫy Hospital for check-ups and therapy. Mr. Đức, though financially capable of covering all expenses, felt heartbroken every time he saw his son suffer.

At first, Mrs. Lan’s concern about Khôi’s condition touched him. But now, considering everything else, suspicion began to creep in.

“Hoa, ask the security team to monitor Mrs. Lan more closely. Report to me immediately if anything unusual happens.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”

Mr. Đức stepped into the elevator, his mind restless. Questions began to swirl.

Why was Mrs. Lan so interested in his son?
Why had she been sneaking into the restricted area?
What was she hiding in that bag?

These thoughts followed him all the way home.

With 20 years of business experience, Mr. Đức had encountered all kinds of people. He knew that employees on the brink of being laid off could sometimes act unpredictably.

As soon as he returned to his villa in District 7, Mr. Đức opened his laptop and began searching for recent news about incidents involving disgruntled employees. It didn’t take long. He found numerous troubling headlines:

“Employee About to Be Laid Off Poisons Boss’s Coffee in Đà Nẵng.”

Garment workers in Bình Dương destroyed machinery the day before being laid off.
An accountant deleted all of the company’s data after being informed of downsizing.
Each headline felt like a dagger to Mr. Đức’s heart. In these difficult times, losing a job pushes many to desperation.

People are willing to do anything to get revenge on those who took away their livelihood.

Mr. Đức recalled an incident last year at a garment factory in Đồng Nai. A worker who was about to be laid off sneaked into the production area and poured chemicals into the water tank, causing 50 other workers to be hospitalized. Or the even more terrifying case in Hải Phòng, where a fired accountant stalked and threatened the children of the company’s owner.

These images heightened his fear about Mrs. Lan’s behavior. She was 65, close to retirement, but now she was being laid off prematurely. That could cause a major emotional shock. Was she harboring a plan for revenge?

What scared him most was how overly concerned she was about Khôi.

As a father, he understood—children are a parent’s greatest vulnerability. If someone wanted to hurt him, the most effective way would be through his son.

At 8:00 PM that evening, while having dinner with his wife and son, Mr. Đức couldn’t focus. Across the table, Khôi sat with a slightly pale face—side effects from his medication. Looking at his son only made him more uneasy.

“Dad, why aren’t you eating?” Khôi asked.
“It’s nothing, son. I’m just thinking about work.”
“I know—you’re worried about laying off employees.” Khôi said.
“By the way, I saw Ms. Lan at the hospital this morning.”

Mr. Đức froze.

“Ms. Lan? What was she doing at the hospital?”
“I don’t know either. She said she was visiting someone she knew. She asked a lot about my health—down to what medications I’m taking.”

That information struck Mr. Đức like lightning.

Mrs. Lan was at the hospital where Khôi receives treatment.
She asked about the medications his son was using.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.

He tried to stay calm.
“Did you tell her about your condition?”
“Of course, Dad. She was so concerned, I told her everything. She even asked for our home address.”

That last sentence chilled Mr. Đức to the bone.

“Why would a janitor need the chairman’s home address?”
That was beyond unusual.

After dinner, Mr. Đức immediately called his secretary.

“Hoa, check Mrs. Nguyễn Thị Lan’s personnel file for me. Pay special attention to her work history and personal connections.”
“Yes, sir. Do you need anything in particular?”
“All of it—her full work history, awards, disciplinary actions, and her family background.”

An hour later, Hoa called back with notable findings.

“Sir, Mrs. Lan’s record is quite clean. She’s worked here 20 years, never been disciplined, and received five awards for dedication.
But there’s one strange detail.”
“What is it?”
“Mrs. Lan has no family. Her husband died 15 years ago. She has no children. She lives alone in a rented room in Bình Thạnh District. But recently, she’s been taking days off on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

“Mondays and Wednesdays…” Mr. Đức frowned.
Those were the exact days Khôi went to the hospital for treatment.

The next day, Mr. Đức decided to personally follow Mrs. Lan.

He arrived at the office early and observed from the 15th-floor window. Using binoculars, he could clearly see the rear area of the factory grounds.

At 5:25 PM, just as expected, Mrs. Lan appeared. She was carrying the same familiar cloth bag, cautiously looking around before slipping into the overgrown garden out back.

Mr. Đức turned on his phone camera and recorded the entire scene.

45 minutes later, Mrs. Lan emerged from the garden.
Her cloth bag was now noticeably bulging—clearly filled with something.

She looked around carefully before walking toward the back gate. Her movements resembled someone engaged in wrongdoing.

Mr. Đức immediately called the head of security.

“Mr. Minh, starting tomorrow, increase surveillance of the back garden. Install more cameras if necessary.
I want to know exactly what Mrs. Lan is doing there.”

“Yes, Chairman. But… do we need to report this to the police?”
“Not yet. I want solid evidence first.”

That evening, Mr. Đức called for an urgent meeting with HR Director Lê Văn Hải. The two sat in his private office, with layoff documents spread across the desk.

“Mr. Hải, I think we need to change the plan,” said Mr. Đức.
“Mrs. Nguyễn Thị Lan needs to be dismissed immediately.”

“Why, Chairman? Has she done something wrong?”

Mr. Đức recounted everything he had discovered—Mrs. Lan’s sneaky behavior, her appearance at the hospital, her detailed questions about Khôi, and especially the mysterious bag she always carried.

Mr. Hải nodded in agreement after hearing it all.

“I understand your concerns, Chairman. In sensitive times like these, we cannot allow any risks. I recommend terminating her as early as next week. But we do need concrete evidence—we can’t fire someone just because of suspicions. So… what do you want to do?”

Mr. Đức was silent for a moment before speaking.

“I have to find out what she’s hiding in that bag.”

The next morning, 8:30 AM, October 16, Mr. Đức sat in his office holding a white business card.

Phạm Minh Tuấn – Private Investigator – 15 years of investigative experience.

It was the business card a fellow businessman had given him last year during a case involving an employee who stole confidential documents.

He dialed the number on the card. After three rings, a calm, deep male voice answered.

“Hello, Phạm Minh Tuấn speaking.”
“Hello Mr. Tuấn, this is Trần Minh Đức, Chairman of Minh Đức Corporation. I was referred by Mr. Lê Hoàng Phúc.”
“Ah, Chairman Đức. Mr. Phúc mentioned you. What can I help you with?”
“I need you to investigate one of our employees. It’s a sensitive matter. Can we meet in person?”

One hour later, Phạm Minh Tuấn arrived at the Minh Đức Corporation headquarters. He was a 45-year-old man with salt-and-pepper hair and sharp, observant eyes. Wearing a simple black suit, he exuded the quiet professionalism of someone who had spent years in the security and investigation field.

“Chairman, who do you want me to watch?” Tuấn asked directly.

Mr. Đức handed him a sheet of paper with a photo attached.

“Nguyễn Thị Lan, 65 years old. A janitor who has worked here for 20 years. Lately, she’s been exhibiting suspicious behavior.”

Tuấn studied the photo and took notes in his notebook.

“What exactly are your suspicions?”

“She frequently sneaks into a restricted area after work, carrying a bag that clearly contains something hidden. And she’s overly interested in my son.”

Mr. Đức detailed Mrs. Lan’s presence at the hospital, her inquiries about Khôi’s health, and her unusual questions about his medication.

Tuấn nodded, his expression serious.

“I understand your concerns. In the context of impending layoffs, any unusual behavior must be closely monitored. How long would you like me to investigate?”

“Two weeks. I need concrete proof of what she’s doing.”

“The fee will be 50 million VND for two weeks. That includes equipment and manpower. Do you agree?”

“Agreed. But I have one special request.”

Tuấn looked at him, waiting.

“You must keep everything absolutely confidential. She must not suspect anything. And if she shows any intention of harming my family, you must inform me immediately.”

“Understood, Chairman. This is professional work.”

That same afternoon, Tuấn began his operation. He dressed like a construction worker, complete with a hard hat and tool box. Mrs. Lan’s shift ended at 5:00 PM, but Tuấn arrived at 4:30 to start observing.

He chose a hidden position near a construction site about 200 meters from the Minh Đức Corporation compound. From there, he had a clear view of the back gate and the abandoned garden Mrs. Lan often visited.

At 5:15 PM, Mrs. Lan appeared.

Tuấn switched on his specialized camera, zooming in closely. She carried the same familiar cloth bag, looked around cautiously, and slipped into the back garden.

“Target has entered the area,” Tuấn wrote in his observation log.

Time: 17:15. Mrs. Lan was carrying a medium-sized black fabric bag.
For the first two days, Tuấn only observed from the outside. He recorded the exact time she entered and exited the garden, and how long she stayed. The result showed a very fixed routine: she entered at 17:15 and left exactly at 18:00 — 45 minutes.

On the third day, Tuấn decided to move in closer.

Taking advantage of the time while Mrs. Lan was inside the garden, he slipped through a small gap in the eastern fence surrounding the company premises. This area had no surveillance cameras. Tuấn brought a micro camera and professional eavesdropping equipment. Carefully using the dense bushes as cover, he approached the abandoned garden.

The garden, about 500 square meters, was once used to grow ornamental plants for the company. Now it was overgrown with weeds. In the middle of the garden was an old fish pond, long since dried up.

From his hiding spot, Tuấn observed what Mrs. Lan was doing. She was kneeling near a corner of the garden, where a few plots of land had been cleared of weeds. On these plots, she had planted strange plants that Tuấn had never seen before.

“Target is tending to her crops.” Tuấn took notes.

There were around 15 to 20 plants, about 30–50 cm tall, with dark green leaves shaped unlike any ordinary decorative plant. Mrs. Lan worked with great care. She watered them, applied fertilizer, and especially focused on harvesting the leaves. She carefully selected large, dark green leaves, cut them with precision, and placed them into her fabric bag.

Tuấn zoomed in with the camera to capture everything.

The leaves had a strange, serrated shape. With 15 years of investigative experience, Tuấn grew suspicious. These could be cannabis plants or something else illegal.

“Target is harvesting suspicious leaves,” he wrote. “Leaf shape resembles marijuana. Needs confirmation.”

Mrs. Lan worked for 40 minutes and harvested about 50–60 leaves. She placed them all in her bag, tied it tightly, and prepared to leave.

Tuấn quickly withdrew from the garden before she noticed. He returned to his observation point and photographed her leaving through the back gate with the now full bag.

18:05 – Mrs. Lan disappeared down the small road behind the company.

Tuấn reviewed all his notes and the footage he had gathered.

That evening, Tuấn called to report to Mr. Đức.

“Chairman, I’ve discovered something important.”
“What is she doing?”
“Mrs. Lan is cultivating and harvesting a strange plant in the company’s back garden. Based on my initial observations, I suspect it may be marijuana or another plant containing illegal substances.”

Mr. Đức was silent for a moment.
“Are you sure?”
“Not 100% sure, but the leaf shape and her harvesting method closely resemble previous cases I’ve worked on. I’ll continue to observe and gather more evidence.”
“Can you collect a sample for testing?”
“Yes, but I have to be extremely cautious. If she realizes someone has tampered with her garden, she’ll become suspicious and may relocate.”
“Understood. Keep monitoring. I need solid evidence before taking action.”

The next morning, Tuấn brought his professional kit to the site.

In his black leather bag were a high-resolution camera, pocket microscope, and small test tubes for collecting samples. He had already contacted a private lab, ready to analyze the samples that same day.

Taking advantage of the quiet lunch break, Tuấn snuck into the garden. He selected a plant near the edge and cut a few leaves along with a small stem section. The specimens were carefully sealed in plastic bags and labeled with the time and location.

Sample #1: Dark green serrated leaves, strong pungent smell.
Tuấn noted: “Suspected marijuana or drug-containing plant.”

Later that afternoon, the lab results surprised him.

The plant was identified as Attractodes macrocephala — a traditional Chinese medicinal herb, non-narcotic and not illegal. However, it had high value in treating digestive issues and boosting immunity.

Tuấn immediately called Mr. Đức.

“Chairman, I may have been wrong. This isn’t cannabis. It’s actually a valuable medicinal herb.”
“A medicinal herb?” Mr. Đức was surprised.
“Yes. But why would Mrs. Lan grow it inside the company?”
“That’s what I’m still trying to find out. She may be cultivating it for income or for some other reason. I’ll keep watching.”

Over the next two days, Tuấn noticed something odd.

Mrs. Lan seemed to sense she was being followed. She frequently paused to look around, took different paths, and no longer went straight to the garden like before.

“Target has become cautious,” Tuấn reported. “She’s checking her surroundings and changing her route. She may have detected surveillance.”

Mr. Đức grew worried.

“What should we do?”
“I’ll reduce direct tracking and rely more on remote cameras. But that makes it harder to collect detailed evidence.”

The next day, October 17, something else added to Mr. Đức’s growing concern.

Khôi came home looking unsettled. He ate in silence, occasionally glancing at his father.

“Is something bothering you?” Mr. Đức asked.
“Dad… I ran into Mrs. Lan again at the hospital today.”
Mr. Đức’s heart sank.
“She was there again?”
“Yeah, but this time… she asked me strange things. She wanted to know our exact home address. And… who lives with us—if it’s just you and Mom.”

Mr. Đức’s blood ran cold.

“And… did you tell her?”
“I said we live at No. 15 Nguyễn Văn Linh Street, District 7. And that it’s just the three of us—Mom, Dad, and me. No one else.”

Mr. Đức tried to remain calm.
“Did she ask anything else?”
“She asked about your schedule—what time you usually get home, and whether you travel for work often. I found it strange, so I didn’t say much.”

This information hit Mr. Đức like a bolt of lightning. Mrs. Lan was clearly investigating his family’s routine and exact address.

This was not the kind of concern a regular employee would show for her boss.

“How do you feel about Mrs. Lan?” he asked.
“She’s kind, but today she asked too many questions. It felt like she really wanted to know something about our family.”

That night, Mr. Đức called an emergency meeting with his secretary Hoa and Director Hải.

The three of them gathered in a small meeting room. On the table were detective Tuấn’s reports.

“The situation is more serious than I thought,” Mr. Đức said. “Mrs. Lan is systematically gathering information about my family.”

Hoa brought out a file folder.
“Chairman, I did some more digging on Mrs. Lan. There are a few things worth noting.”
“Go on.”
“Mrs. Lan once had a son who died in a workplace accident in 2010. He was only 25 at the time. Since then, she’s lived alone and never remarried.”

This piece of information made Mr. Đức pause.
Could the loss of her son have caused mental instability? Was she seeing Khôi as a replacement for her lost child?

Director Hải spoke up:
“Chairman, in my opinion, we can’t afford to wait any longer. Even if there’s no clear evidence of criminal activity, her behavior is grounds for dismissal.”

“But if we fire her and she does have malicious intent, she may act immediately,” Mr. Đức worried.

“Should we notify the police?” he asked.

Hoa suggested:
“We could report anonymously, saying that a cleaning lady is asking strange questions about the chairman’s son and growing medicinal plants on company grounds.”

Director Hải shook his head.
“The police will laugh at us.”

Mr. Đức stood up and began pacing the room. The situation had become too complex.

He couldn’t let Mrs. Lan continue acting freely, but there was no legal basis to stop her.

Finally, he made a decision:

“I’ll confront her directly. I want to ask her exactly what she’s doing and why she’s so interested in my family.”

“Chairman, that could be dangerous,” Hoa said worriedly.

“More dangerous is letting her operate in the shadows. At least if I confront her, I’ll understand her true intentions.”

Director Hải nodded in agreement.
“If that’s your decision, we should prepare thoroughly. I’ll draw up her termination documents, citing workforce downsizing, and also prepare a report to authorities regarding unauthorized cultivation of plants on company property.”

“Good. Hoa, you prepare an audio recorder for the meeting. I need evidence of whatever she says.”

When the meeting ended, all three felt a heavy weight. They were facing an unprecedented situation.

A long-trusted employee had now become a potential threat.

That night, Mr. Đức went home with a clear resolve. He called detective Tuấn.

“Mr. Tuấn, tomorrow I’ll confront Mrs. Lan. I need you to be at the company early in case anything happens.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, Chairman?”
“Absolutely. I can’t live with this uncertainty any longer. Tomorrow, it all ends.”

7:00 AM, October 18
Mr. Đức arrived at the company very early. On his desk were the prepared dismissal papers for Mrs. Lan, the evidence collected by detective Tuấn, and a small voice recorder.

The confrontation was scheduled for 8:30 AM, right after Mrs. Lan arrived at work.

Secretary Hoa knocked and entered his office.

“Chairman, everything is ready. Meeting Room B has been cleaned and the recording camera is functioning normally. Mr. Tuấn is already here.”

“Has Mrs. Lan arrived yet?”
“Not yet. According to her routine, she usually gets here by 7:30.”

Mr. Đức reviewed the key questions he would ask:

Why is she growing medicinal plants on company property?

Why is she so overly interested in his family?

What are her intentions regarding Khôi?

These questions needed clear answers.

7:35 AM, the announcement came over the company loudspeaker:
“Mrs. Nguyễn Thị Lan, please proceed to the Chairman’s office.”

Mr. Đức sat up straight, hands on the desk. This was the moment of truth.

By the end of today, he would finally know the real story behind the 65-year-old woman he had grown increasingly suspicious of over the past weeks.

Slow footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Mrs. Lan was approaching.

Mr. Đức felt his heart beating faster. Even though he had prepared carefully, he still felt anxious about the upcoming conversation.

There was a gentle knock on the door.
“Chairman, Mrs. Lan is here.”
“Let her in.”

The door opened. Mrs. Nguyễn Thị Lan stepped in, looking worried. She wore her familiar janitor uniform, and in her hand was the fabric bag that had long stirred Mr. Đức’s suspicions.

Her face showed confusion as she sensed the serious atmosphere in the room.

“Good morning, Chairman. Did you call me for something?”

“Good morning, Mrs. Lan. Please, take a seat. We need to talk.”

Mrs. Lan sat down on the chair across from his desk, placing her fabric bag beside her feet. From where he sat, Mr. Đức could clearly observe her expression.

“Mrs. Lan, I called you in to ask you a few questions,” Mr. Đức began.

At that moment, something unexpected happened.

As Mrs. Lan tried to neatly place her fabric bag, it slipped from her hand. The bag hit the floor with a soft thud, and some of its contents spilled out.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Chairman.” Mrs. Lan quickly bent down to gather the fallen items.

Mr. Đức looked down—and froze in shock.

Among the dried medicinal leaves, something completely unexpected had rolled out and come to rest near his feet.

It was an old, faded color photograph. One corner was torn and the image blurred slightly with age.

Mr. Đức bent down and picked it up, and what he saw completely stunned him.

In the photo was a man about 25 years old, holding a small boy of about two or three. The child was wearing a blue T-shirt and smiling brightly. They were standing next to a small fishpond, with the familiar garden behind the factory in the background.

The man in the photo was a younger Mr. Đức—and the boy was Khôi, when he was two.

Mr. Đức stared at the photo, then looked at Mrs. Lan, utterly bewildered.

How did she get this photo? He had no memory of anyone taking a picture that day. And why had she kept it all these years?

“Mrs. Lan!” He held up the photo. “Why do you have this?”

Mrs. Lan was still bent over picking up the scattered leaves. When she looked up and saw the photo in his hand, her face turned pale.

“Chairman… that’s a photo of me and my son from 20 years ago. Taken right here on the company grounds.”

Mr. Đức’s voice trembled.
“Why do you have it?”

Mrs. Lan didn’t answer immediately. She stood up, her hands shaking as she grabbed her fabric bag.

The medicinal leaves were still scattered across the floor, but she seemed to no longer care.

“Chairman, I… I don’t know how to explain this.”

Mr. Đức stood up and walked around the desk to get closer to her, the photo still in his hand like a crucial clue.

“Please, just be honest with me. I need the truth.”

But Mrs. Lan just stood there, clutching the bag tightly and staring at the floor.

Her face showed deep anguish, as if she were wrestling with an agonizing decision.

Mr. Đức studied the photo again. The angle suggested it had been taken from a distance, possibly through the window of another building. The image wasn’t perfect, but clear enough to recognize father and son.

This meant someone had been watching him and Khôi 20 years ago.

Someone had captured that private moment—and kept it for two decades.

That someone was Mrs. Lan.

“You’ve been watching my family for 20 years?” Mr. Đức asked, his voice unsteady.

The question startled her. She looked up at him, her eyes welling with tears.

“It’s not what you think, Chairman.”

“Then what is it? Why do you have this photo? Why are you growing herbs in the company garden? Why are you asking such strange questions about my son?”

The rapid fire of questions made Mrs. Lan shrink back. She set her fabric bag down and sat back in her chair, burying her face in her hands.

At that moment, Mr. Đức realized this confrontation was not unfolding as he had expected.

Instead of a person with malicious intent, he was facing an elderly woman full of pain and secrets.

He decided to change his approach. Instead of pressing her further, he sat down and spoke more gently.

“Mrs. Lan, I’m cancelling today’s meeting. We need more time to talk—properly.”

Mrs. Lan looked up at him, eyes filled with gratitude, but still said nothing.

She stood up, bowed respectfully, and left the room—leaving Mr. Đức with the photograph in his hand and a thousand questions in his mind.

He sat alone in the office, studying the old picture. Every detail triggered memories of that day, 20 years ago.

Back then, Khôi had just learned to walk and loved running around the company garden. Mr. Đức often brought him to the factory on weekends to help him become familiar with his father’s workplace.

But who took the photo?
And more importantly, why had Mrs. Lan kept it for 20 years?

Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Đức made a surprising decision.

Instead of sitting there wondering, he would go investigate the secret garden—the one Mrs. Lan often visited.

Maybe there, he would find more clues to answer his growing list of questions.

He called Secretary Hoa.

“Cancel all my morning meetings. I have something to take care of.”

“What about the meeting with the leadership team regarding Mrs. Lan?”
“Postpone it. I need to understand more.”

Mr. Đức left his office and headed toward the garden behind the factory.

It was the first time in many years that he had returned to this area.

Once, it had hosted company celebrations, but since the factory expansion, it had been abandoned.

The gate to the garden was locked—but Mr. Đức had a master key.

When he stepped in, Mr. Đức was surprised by the scene before him. Instead of an overgrown garden as he had imagined, it was a carefully maintained space. The small paths were cleared of weeds. The garden beds were neatly arranged, divided into different sections.

Most notably, dozens of unfamiliar plants were thriving in these beds. Mr. Đức walked closer to take a better look. Each bed had a small sign with handwritten labels:
“Atractylodes macrocephala – Bạch truật”,
“Codonopsis pilosula – Đảng sâm”,
“Astragalus membranaceus – Hoàng kỳ.”

These names sparked a memory. He pulled out his phone and looked them up. They were all precious medicinal herbs in traditional Eastern medicine, known for boosting immunity and supporting chronic disease treatment.

Suddenly, he recalled a conversation with Dr. Nguyễn Thanh Sơn at Chợ Rẫy Hospital three months ago. While discussing treatment options for Khôi, Dr. Sơn mentioned the potential of combining modern medicine with traditional herbs. Specifically, herbs like bạch truật, đảng sâm, and hoàng kỳ were known to significantly improve immune responses in patients. Dr. Sơn had noted, however, that high-quality herbs were difficult to source and expensive.

At the time, Mr. Đức hadn’t paid much attention, confident that money could solve everything. But now, standing in a medicinal garden lovingly tended by Ms. Lan, he began to see something deeper.

Ms. Lan wasn’t doing anything illicit—she was cultivating herbs that could potentially help treat Khôi’s illness.

But the question remained: Why?
Why would a 65-year-old janitor care so deeply about his son?
And why did she have that 20-year-old photo?

Mr. Đức continued exploring the garden. In the far corner, near the old fish pond, he discovered a special area. This part housed the oldest plants, possibly three to four years old. They looked healthy, with deep green leaves and a distinct herbal fragrance.

Next to the pond was a small stone bench. On it sat an umbrella and a small notebook. Mr. Đức picked up the notebook and was stunned by its contents.

It was Ms. Lan’s herbal care journal, meticulously documented by day:
“May 15 – Watered the bạch truật. Growing well, hopeful for a good harvest by year-end.”
“May 22 – Đảng sâm began to flower. Needs more organic fertilizer.”

But what shook him most were the notes at the bottom of each page:
“Praying for Khôi to recover soon. Hope these herbs will help him.”
“Twenty years have passed, I have never forgotten the chairman’s kindness.”

Mr. Đức stood motionless, holding the notebook in trembling hands. These were words of genuine care and gratitude—no trace of pretense. Ms. Lan truly cared about Khôi and had a deeply rooted reason.

Suddenly, footsteps behind him startled him. He turned and saw Ms. Lan standing at the garden’s entrance, her face pale upon seeing the notebook in his hands.

They faced each other in tense silence. The distance between them was only about ten meters, but the air was heavy with unspoken truths.

Ms. Lan slowly approached, eyes locked on the notebook. Her face was filled with sorrow and anxiety.

“Chairman,” she said, her voice trembling.

Mr. Đức looked directly at her, raising the notebook.
“You did all this… for my son.”

Ms. Lan nodded slightly, tears beginning to fall.

“But why?” he asked. “Why do you care so much about Khôi?”

Ms. Lan remained silent for a long while, as though battling with whether or not to reveal the truth.

Finally, she looked at him with meaning in her eyes.
“You already know, don’t you?”

Mr. Đức looked puzzled.
“Know what? I don’t understand.”

Ms. Lan stepped closer, her voice still shaky.
“Please… let me explain.”

Mr. Đức nodded, placing the notebook on the stone bench and sitting down.
“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

Ms. Lan stood before the old pond, staring into the still water, her eyes seemingly pulled back into a distant past—a memory that had haunted her for twenty years.

“It happened on May 15, 2004,” she began slowly. “At the time, I was 45, working in the sewing division of Factory No. 2. And you… you were only 22, fresh out of university, having just inherited your father’s company.”

Mr. Đức nodded. He remembered that time well—those stressful early days of taking over the family business.

“That day was a Saturday,” Ms. Lan continued. “You brought little Khôi to the company for a meeting with Japanese partners. He had just turned two years and three months old. Very energetic.”

Mr. Đức recalled it clearly—he was newly divorced then, raising Khôi on his own. On weekends, he often brought his son to work, as he had no one else to care for him. The boy loved running around the company’s vast courtyard.

“I remember vividly—he wore a blue t-shirt with a rabbit on it,” she said. “He was running everywhere while you were in the meeting.”

Ms. Lan spoke, her voice slightly emotional.
“Back then, this garden was beautiful—the fish pond was crystal clear, with many ornamental trees surrounding it.”

Mr. Đức nodded. He still remembered how lovely the garden used to be—it was the pride of the company. The pond was about 1.5 meters deep, home to many valuable ornamental fish. His meeting had lasted from 2:00 PM until nearly 5:00.

Ms. Lan continued:
“I was on the afternoon shift. From the window of the workshop, I could see the garden. I saw little Khôi playing alone near the pond.”

She paused, taking a deep breath. What she was about to share was clearly the most painful memory of her life.

“I remember it clearly. At exactly 4:35 PM, he was running along the edge of the pond, holding a flower he had just picked. He wanted to feed the fish with it.”

Mr. Đức felt his heart begin to race. A sense of dread washed over him.

“At that time, there was no railing around the pond—only large natural stones lining the edge. He stood on one of them, trying to lean over to drop the flower into the water.”

Ms. Lan stopped. She clasped her hands tightly. Her face turned pale as she recalled that fateful moment.

“The stone was slippery because of rain from the day before. His foot slipped—”

Her voice cracked. Mr. Đức got up and moved closer.

“What happened?” he asked.

“He fell into the pond,” Ms. Lan said, tears beginning to stream down her face.
“I heard the splash and his scream clearly, even from the workshop.”

It felt like someone had punched Mr. Đức in the chest.

His son, Khôi, had nearly drowned in this very place.

“At that time, there were around 30 workers in the factory, all focused on their tasks. The noise from the sewing machines drowned out his cries. Only I was sitting near the window and heard it.”

Ms. Lan turned toward the pond, as if she were seeing the terrifying scene all over again.

“I saw him struggling in the water. He was only two—he didn’t know how to swim. The pond was 1.5 meters deep, he couldn’t stand. Every time he surfaced, he sank back down.”

Mr. Đức felt his blood run cold. He couldn’t imagine his son drowning right outside, while he was completely unaware, in a closed meeting room.

“There were no security guards nearby—just me. I was the only one who saw him in danger.”

“What did you do?” Mr. Đức asked, his voice trembling.

“I dropped everything and ran from the second floor of the workshop down to the garden. As I ran, I shouted: ‘Help! A child is drowning!’ But no one could hear me over the loud machines.”

Ms. Lan walked to the edge of the pond, knelt down, and touched the water’s surface.

“When I reached here, he had been underwater for about 30 seconds. I could see his faint silhouette, not moving anymore.”

Mr. Đức swallowed hard.
“But… you don’t know how to swim.”

“I know a little. When I was young, I used to swim in rivers in my hometown. But I was already 45 then and hadn’t swum in years.”

“This pond looks clear, but it has algae and aquatic plants that easily entangle you.”

She stood up and looked him straight in the eyes.

“But I couldn’t stand by and watch a child drown. No matter the danger, I had to save him.”

“You jumped in?”

“I didn’t just jump—I hurled myself into the water like a madwoman. The only thing in my mind was: I must save Khôi.”

Her voice quickened, as if reliving that intense moment.

“The water was colder than I expected. I dove in to find him. It was hard to see underwater, so I had to feel around. Finally, I found his arm and pulled him up.”

“What condition was he in?”

“He was unconscious. His face was pale and he wasn’t breathing. I swam him to the shore and laid him on the grass—his limbs were ice cold.”

Mr. Đức felt his knees weakening.
If it weren’t for Ms. Lan at that moment…

“I tried to remember everything I knew about first aid. I pressed his chest and gave him rescue breaths. Once, twice, three times—up to ten times, and he still didn’t respond.”

Ms. Lan paused to wipe her tears.

“I was terrified, thinking I wouldn’t be able to save him. But I didn’t give up. I kept pressing and breathing into him.”

“And then?”

“On the fifteenth try, he suddenly coughed and vomited out water. He opened his eyes and burst into tears. That cry… it was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

She sat down on the grass near the pond, her hands still trembling from the memory.

“I held him tight, feeling his little heartbeat return. He was shivering from cold and fear, but he was alive. That was all that mattered.”

Mr. Đức sat down beside her, covering his face with his hands. He couldn’t believe he had never known about this terrifying accident.

“I carried him upstairs to find you,” Ms. Lan continued.
“Both of us were soaking wet.”

The child was sobbing, and I cried along with him. When you opened the meeting room door and saw us, you were shocked.

Mr. Đức tried to recall.
“Yes, I remember now. That day, a female worker brought Khôi into the room soaking wet. I just thought he had fallen into a puddle or something. I thanked her briefly and took him home to wash up and change clothes.”

“I told you he had fallen into the pond, but I didn’t explain in detail,” Ms. Lan said. “I only said he was wet and needed to go home and rest. At the time, you were stressed from the meeting and didn’t ask much.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the whole truth?” Mr. Đức asked.
“Because I was afraid you’d blame me. Why hadn’t I watched him more closely? Why had I let him get near a dangerous place? Back then, I was just an ordinary worker—I was afraid of being fired if you thought it was my fault.”

Mr. Đức felt a deep numbness as he realized he had overlooked such a significant event. If it hadn’t been for Ms. Lan, he might have lost his son twenty years ago.

“But from that day on,” Ms. Lan said, her voice full of emotion, “I could never forget little Khôi. Every time I saw him at the company, I remembered holding him in my arms after rescuing him. There was a strange feeling… like he was my own grandchild.”

Mr. Đức understood. Ms. Lan had gone through a life-or-death experience. That had created a deep bond between her and Khôi.

“Back then, my husband was still alive. We had a son named Minh. He was the same age as Khôi—just as playful and energetic. Maybe that’s why I felt so close to him.”

She paused to wipe her tears.
“Minh died in 2010 in a workplace accident at a construction site. Since then, I’ve lived alone, with no one left to love.”

Mr. Đức began to understand why Ms. Lan cared so deeply about Khôi. The boy wasn’t just someone she had saved—he was also a reflection of the son she had lost.

“All these years, I quietly watched Khôi grow up. I was happy when he did well in school, sad when he got sick. To me, he’s like my own grandson.”

“When did you learn about Khôi’s illness?”
“About six months ago. I accidentally overheard you talking to a doctor on the phone about his health condition. You looked very sad that day, and I got curious.”

Ms. Lan stood up and walked toward the rows of medicinal herbs.
“When I found out he had an immune disorder, I was really worried. I started researching treatment methods, especially traditional medicine.”

“Where did you learn about medicinal herbs?”

“I bought books, searched online, and asked traditional medicine practitioners. I met a healer at Vĩnh Nghiêm Pagoda—he taught me a lot about growing and processing herbs.”

Ms. Lan knelt beside a row of bạch truật (Atractylodes), gently stroking the young leaves.

“I learned that herbs like bạch truật, đảng sâm (Codonopsis), and hoàng kỳ (Astragalus) are very good for boosting immunity. But high-quality medicinal herbs are expensive and must be grown in the right environment.”

“Why did you choose to grow them here?”

“This garden has good soil, clean water from the pond, and it’s a quiet area with little foot traffic. I thought it was the perfect place to grow herbs. More importantly, this is the place where I saved Khôi twenty years ago. Maybe it’s fate.”

Mr. Đức looked around the garden with new eyes. This wasn’t the hideout of some scheming person—but a place where a kind-hearted woman had poured her love into the child she once saved.

“I started planting them three years ago,” Ms. Lan continued.
“At first, just a few trial plants. When I saw they grew well, I expanded. The leaves in my bag are ones I picked to dry, preparing medicine for the boy. I studied how to roast and treat the herbs according to traditional methods.”

She reached into her bag and took out a carefully prepared leaf.
“Each herb requires a different preparation process. I studied them thoroughly to make sure they’d be most effective.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Mr. Đức asked.

Ms. Lan hesitated, then looked down at the ground.
“Because I was afraid you’d think I had some hidden motive. An old janitor secretly growing medicinal herbs and caring about the chairman’s son… it sounds suspicious, doesn’t it?”

Mr. Đức felt deeply ashamed. She was right. He had thought poorly of her simply because of unclear behavior.

“Besides,” she added, “I’m just an ordinary person. You’re the chairman of a corporation, you can afford the best medicine for your son. I was afraid you’d laugh at me, think what I was doing was useless.”

“And about asking after Khôi at the hospital,” she continued, “I just wanted to know his health status so I could prepare the right herbal medicine. Each stage of illness needs different treatments.”

Ms. Lan turned to look at Mr. Đức, her eyes brimming with tears.
“I know I was wrong not to ask your permission, but I truly only wanted to help. That boy is someone I once saved. I feel a lifelong responsibility to care for him.”

Mr. Đức stood up and walked over to Ms. Lan. His eyes were red, tears beginning to fall.

“Ms. Lan, I—” he tried to speak but couldn’t.
A whirlwind of emotions surged within him: gratitude, guilt, sorrow, and shame for having wrongly suspected her.

“I thought so terribly of you,” he choked out.
“I believed you had bad intentions toward my family. I even hired a private investigator to follow you.”

Ms. Lan gave a sad smile.
“I know. I sensed someone was watching me. But I understand—my behavior really did seem suspicious.”

Mr. Đức knelt before Ms. Lan, his tears dripping onto the ground.

“Please forgive me. I wronged the person who saved my family.”

Ms. Lan had never seen a corporate chairman kneel before her. She quickly bent down to lift him up, tears now streaming down her own cheeks.

“Chairman, please don’t do this. It makes me uneasy,” she said, her voice trembling. “Everything I did was voluntary. I never expected anything in return.”

“No, you saved my son’s life. Without you, I would’ve lost Khôi twenty years ago.”

Mr. Đức stood up, holding Ms. Lan’s hands tightly.
“I can never repay this debt.”

The two stood in the herbal garden under the soft golden light of sunset. All around them were lush green rows of plants that Ms. Lan had lovingly cared for over the past three years.
Each leaf, each sprout, was filled with the love and concern of a woman for the child she once saved.

“Can you forgive me?” Mr. Đức asked.
Ms. Lan nodded, smiling through her tears.

“I understand why you doubted me. My actions did look suspicious. If I were in your place, I’d probably think the same. But I quietly did what I thought was right, and no one ever knew.”

“I was so foolish not to realize it.”
Mr. Đức looked around the garden with deep appreciation.
“How much time and effort have you put into these herbs?”

“Not that much,” she replied. “I only spend about an hour a day tending to them. But I do it with all my love for Khôi.”

Mr. Đức pulled out his phone and dialed Director Hải.

“Hải, I need you to come to the back garden immediately. It’s important.”

“What are you planning to do?” Ms. Lan asked, worried.

“I’m going to change everything. The plan to lay off 200 workers will be canceled immediately.”

Ms. Lan’s eyes widened.
“But that’ll affect the company’s development strategy.”

“It’s okay,” Mr. Đức said. “Profits matter, but people matter more. You’ve taught me that.”

Fifteen minutes later, Director Hải and secretary Hoa arrived at the garden.
They were surprised to see Mr. Đức and Ms. Lan standing side by side, both with traces of tears on their faces.

“Chairman, what’s going on?” Hải asked.

Mr. Đức recounted the entire story—from the accident 20 years ago when Ms. Lan saved Khôi, to her years of secretly growing medicinal herbs to help treat his illness.

Both Mr. Hải and Ms. Hoa were moved.
They couldn’t believe such a touching story had unfolded right within their own company.

“And now,” Mr. Đức said, “I have an important decision.”

“The plan to lay off 200 workers will be completely canceled.”

“But Chairman,” Hải objected, “the digital transformation plan has already been approved. If we cancel the layoffs, we’ll fall behind our competitors.”

“I’m not canceling the digital transformation plan,” Mr. Đức replied.

“I’m just changing how we do it,” Mr. Đức said as he walked over to the rows of medicinal herbs, gently brushing the green leaves with his fingers.

“Instead of laying off workers, we’ll retrain them. Those who can’t work with automated machines will be transferred to other departments—customer care, quality control, equipment maintenance. It’ll cost more.”

Chairwoman Hoa said, “I know, but we can manage it. Instead of investing 500 billion all at once, we’ll spend 300 billion on machinery and 200 billion on workforce training.”

Mr. Đức turned to look at Ms. Lan.
“Ms. Lan showed me that people are the most valuable asset of any business. Someone who cares, who loves, can create far more value than any machine.”

Ms. Lan bowed her head, deeply moved by Mr. Đức’s words.

“We’ll build a humane factory model,” Mr. Đức continued, “where humans and technology exist in harmony. A place where every employee is respected and has the opportunity to grow.”

Director Hải nodded in understanding.
“In that case, we’ll gain a competitive advantage through our corporate culture. Happy employees work more efficiently.”

“Exactly. And most importantly,” said Mr. Đức, “we must never forget that every worker has a family, a life outside of work. They are not just numbers in a spreadsheet.”

Mr. Đức looked at Ms. Lan with great respect.
“Ms. Lan will be the first to benefit from this new policy.”

“What does the chairman intend to do?” Ms. Lan asked, puzzled.

“Instead of dismissing you due to age, I want to appoint you to a special position in the company.”

Both Mr. Hải and Ms. Hoa were curious about Mr. Đức’s decision.

“You will become the Director of Employee Welfare. Your task will be to take care of the health, spirit, and well-being of all our employees.”

Ms. Lan’s mouth fell open.
“Chairman… are you serious? I’m just a janitor, I have no qualifications.”

“You have heart and experience—those are the most important qualities. You know how to care for people, how to love. That’s exactly what this role needs,” Mr. Đức said with a smile.
“Moreover, this medicinal garden will become part of our employee health care program. You’ll be in charge of expanding and developing it.”

Before leaving the garden, Mr. Đức called Detective Tuấn to report the outcome.

“Tuấn, the surveillance is over. I completely misunderstood Ms. Lan. Thank you for your help.”

“I’m glad the truth came to light, Chairman. This is a rare and beautiful story,” Tuấn replied.

“The salary will be 50 million VND per month, along with full benefits,” Mr. Đức added.

That number stunned Ms. Lan—50 million VND, 20 times her current salary of 2.5 million. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard.

“Chairman… I don’t deserve this,” she said, voice trembling.

“You deserve it more than anyone. You saved my son’s life and quietly cared for him for 20 years. This is just a small part of the gratitude I want to express.”

One hour later, Ms. Lan sat in Mr. Đức’s private office, feeling nervous.
In 20 years of working, it was the first time she had ever been invited into this room. In the past, she’d only glimpsed it through the glass doors while cleaning the hallway.

The spacious office had a panoramic view of the city. A luxurious wooden desk, a high-end leather chair, and artistic paintings adorned the walls. It was a lavish space she never imagined she would be sitting in.

Mr. Đức sat across from her. A folder of documents lay on the table.

“Ms. Lan, this is your new employment contract. Please read it carefully before signing.”

Ms. Lan’s hands trembled as she opened the folder.
The first line made her read it over and over again:

Employment Contract — Position: Director of Employee Welfare.

“Chairman… are you really serious? I’ll actually be a director?”

“100% real. You’ll be responsible for the physical, mental, and emotional welfare of all employees. It’s a very important role.”

Ms. Lan continued reading. When she reached the salary section, she had to blink several times.

50 million VND per month.
That was 20 times her current salary.

“Chairman, that’s a huge amount of money. I don’t know if I can do a good job.”
“You will do just fine. I have complete trust in you,” Mr. Đức said with a smile.
“Besides, this isn’t just a salary—it’s a token of appreciation for your 20 years of dedication, and especially for saving Khôi’s life.”

Ms. Lan wiped her tears.
“I never thought I’d ever be treated this kindly.”

“You deserve all of this, and more. There’s still a lot I want to do for you,” Mr. Đức said as he stood up and walked over to a cabinet. He pulled out a small box containing samples of medicinal herbs that Ms. Lan had carefully processed.

“These herbs you’ve grown will be sent to the National Institute of Medicinal Materials for research and analysis. I want to know exactly how effective they are.”

“But Chairman, these are just ordinary medicinal plants…” Ms. Lan said, surprised.

“No, these are plants grown with love. I believe they have special effects,” Mr. Đức said seriously.
“If the results are positive, we’ll expand the herb garden—not just for Khôi’s treatment, but to help other underprivileged patients as well.”

Ms. Lan nodded, her eyes shining.
“I would love to help more people. If these herbs are really useful, I’m willing to teach others how to grow them.”

“That’s exactly what I hoped for. You’ll be the first to build a traditional medicine program within our company.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Mr. Đức’s phone rang.
“Hello, Khôi?”

“Dad, I just finished my check-up at the hospital. Dr. Sơn wants to talk to you about something important.”

Mr. Đức glanced at Ms. Lan.
“Where are you? I’ll come right away.”

“I’m in the main lobby.”
“Alright, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Mr. Đức hung up and turned to Ms. Lan.
“Would you like to come meet Khôi? I think it’s time he knew the truth.”

Ms. Lan hesitated.
“But what will he think of me? Just a janitor who’s been watching him for 20 years…”

“He’ll be grateful—just like I am.”

30 minutes later, Mr. Đức and Ms. Lan arrived at Chợ Rẫy Hospital.
Khôi was sitting in the main lobby, wearing his white medical student coat. Now 22 years old, he was tall, mature, and composed.

Seeing his father walk in with the familiar janitor, Khôi looked puzzled.
“Dad, why is Ms. Lan here?”

Mr. Đức sat beside his son.
“There’s something important I need to tell you.”

Over the next 15 minutes, he recounted the story from 20 years ago—the pond accident, how Ms. Lan had saved Khôi’s life, and how she’d quietly watched over him ever since.

Khôi’s eyes widened as he looked at Ms. Lan.
“You… you saved me?”

Ms. Lan nodded, her eyes now filled with tears.
“You were just a little child. Of course you wouldn’t remember.”

Khôi stood up and walked toward her.
The boy she once held in her arms had become a tall young man.

“You saved my life… I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Seeing you healthy is the greatest joy of my life.”

Khôi knelt in front of her, just as Mr. Đức had in the garden.

“Please, let me call you Grandma. I want to think of you as my own.”

Ms. Lan had never been called “grandma” before. Since the death of her son, she thought she’d never have a grandchild. But now, Khôi wanted to treat her as family.

“You really mean that?”
“Yes. You saved my life and cared for me for 20 years. In my heart, you are my grandmother.”

At that moment, Dr. Nguyễn Thanh Sơn stepped out of the clinic. He saw the emotional scene and paused.

“Khôi, is this your family?” the doctor asked.

“Yes. This is my grandmother,” Khôi replied, looking proudly at Ms. Lan.

Dr. Sơn smiled.
“I have good news for the family. Today’s test results show a significant improvement in Khôi’s health. His immune system is much more stable than it was three months ago.”

Mr. Đức looked at Ms. Lan.
“Could it be the medicinal herbs she’s been giving him?”

“Especially the liver and kidney indicators—they’re much better. That’s rare for this condition,” Dr. Sơn continued.

Ms. Lan gently asked,
“Doctor… is it okay for him to keep taking traditional herbs?”

“Herbs? What kind?”
“Bạch chuột, Đảng sâm, Hoàng kỳ,” she replied.

The doctor was surprised.
“You know your herbs. Those are excellent for the immune system. If the quality is good, I fully support using them.”

Mr. Đức smiled.
“Don’t worry, Doctor. These herbs are grown and prepared by Khôi’s own grandmother.”

That afternoon, Mr. Đức’s entire family visited Ms. Lan’s small 20-square-meter room in Bình Thạnh District. The tiny space suddenly felt warm and lively with the laughter of three people.

Khôi sat beside Ms. Lan, telling her about his life as a medical student and his dream of becoming a doctor.

Ms. Lan listened attentively, occasionally asking questions and offering encouragement.
“Grandma,” Khôi said, “From now on, I’ll call you grandma.”

December 2024, three months after the events, Minh Đức Group held an official ceremony to announce that Ms. Nguyễn Thị Lan would take on the role of Director of Employee Welfare.

The event took place in the main hall, attended by all 500 company employees.
Ms. Lan stood on stage in a neat black suit, her hair carefully styled. Her face radiated confidence and joy.
It was hard to believe that just three months earlier, she was a janitor on the layoff list.

“I commit to taking the best care of every employee’s health and well-being,”
she said clearly and proudly.
“The medicinal herb garden will be expanded—not only for our company but for the surrounding community.”

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience.
Former coworkers who had swept floors with Ms. Lan now beamed with pride. They had witnessed a real-life fairy tale unfold in their very own company.

Just a week earlier, results from the National Institute of Medicinal Materials had been released.
The 50-page report confirmed that Ms. Lan’s medicinal herbs were 30% more potent than commercially available alternatives.
Her methods—completely natural and chemical-free—were praised for their integrity and quality.

Professor Trần Văn Nam, director of the institute, highlighted the herbs’ notably higher levels of immune-boosting compounds.
These findings not only brought joy to Mr. Đức but also attracted the attention of the medical community.

Hospitals reached out, eager to learn about Ms. Lan’s cultivation methods.

More importantly, Khôi’s health had significantly improved.
Recent tests showed that his immune system had stabilized and symptoms of his illness had greatly reduced.

Dr. Nguyễn Thanh Sơn confirmed that Khôi could now lower his dosage of Western medications and instead increase traditional herbal treatments.

“This is a rare case with such positive progression,”
said Dr. Sơn.
“Combining modern and traditional medicine has led to surprising results.”

Meanwhile, the “humane factory” model of Minh Đức Group began to draw attention from the business world.

Instead of mass layoffs for automation, the company retrained over 200 workers for new roles.
Production efficiency didn’t decline—it increased by 15% due to boosted employee morale.

Resignation rates fell to their lowest in a decade.

“We’ve proven that humans and technology can co-exist,”
Mr. Đức said during an HR leadership forum.
“Investing in people isn’t a cost—it’s the most profitable investment of all.”

By May 2025, the story of Ms. Lan and Minh Đức Group was featured in Tuổi Trẻ newspaper under the headline:

“From Janitor to Director: A Modern Fairy Tale”

The article went viral across social media, with millions of shares.

Other companies began studying the Minh Đức model.
Universities invited Mr. Đức and Ms. Lan to speak about their journey.
The story became the subject of essays and research papers on human-centered management.

From a woman who had lived in quiet anonymity, Ms. Lan became a symbol of hope.
Countless workers sent her letters of thanks—for proving that kindness and hard work are not forgotten.

“I simply followed what my heart told me,”
Ms. Lan shared in an interview.
“I never imagined my story would touch so many people.”

In June 2025, Khôi graduated from the University of Medicine as the top student in his class.
He received a full scholarship for a master’s program in traditional medicine research.

On his graduation day, Ms. Lan sat proudly in the front row next to Mr. Đức, watching her grandson accept his diploma.

When Khôi stepped onto the stage, he scanned the crowd until he found Grandma Lan and gave her his brightest smile.

“I want to continue researching the medicinal herbs you taught me about,”
Khôi told her after the graduation ceremony.
“I want to develop treatments that combine modern medicine with traditional healing.”

His decision was fully supported by the whole family.
Mr. Đức had already contacted leading universities to ensure Khôi could study and research in the best environment.

In August 2025, Mr. Đức officially established the Nguyễn Thị Lan Charitable Foundation, starting with initial capital of 10 billion VND.

The foundation’s mission:

Support laborers in difficult circumstances

Advance research and development of traditional herbal medicine.

“This is the best way to express my gratitude to Ms. Lan and spread the beautiful values she represents,”
Mr. Đức said at the foundation’s launch.

Ms. Lan was invited to serve as Chairwoman of the Foundation’s Advisory Board, where she would personally help select support projects and lead training programs on herbal medicine.

In October 2025, exactly one year after the events, the old medicinal herb garden was renovated and expanded into the

Nguyễn Thị Lan Memorial and Research Garden.

The fish pond—where the accident had occurred 20 years ago—was cleaned and turned into the heart of the garden.
Next to it, a stone plaque was erected:

“Here, on August 15, 2004, Ms. Nguyễn Thị Lan saved the life of Trần Minh Khôi.
From that moment began a story of kindness, gratitude, and humanity.”

The garden was divided into several zones:

Cultivation area

Research labs

Training facilities

Exhibition space

Every year, thousands of visitors come to learn, reflect, and be inspired.

At the grand opening ceremony, three generations of the two families stood side by side:

Mr. Đức and Ms. Lan, both having weathered the storms of life

And Khôi, now a young man with a dream to become a doctor and herbal researcher.

“Looking back over the past 20 years, I feel incredibly lucky,”
Ms. Lan said.
“From a lonely woman, I now have a new family and a meaningful career.”

Now 22 and preparing to pursue his master’s degree in the United States, Khôi hugged Ms. Lan tightly:

“You gave me a new life, Grandma. I’ll continue researching to create the best medicines to help others.”

Mr. Đức stood nearby, watching the lush garden—rows of medicinal herbs thriving under the care of devoted workers.

His company had not only grown economically but had transformed into a humane workplace where every person was respected.

“Ms. Lan’s kindness changed my life,”
he thought to himself.
“She taught me that true success isn’t measured by profit, but by the good we bring to others.”

As the sunset bathed the garden in golden light, a tranquil silence settled over the scene.

Ms. Lan sat by the fish pond, gently stroking the leaves of the herbs she had lovingly nurtured.
Mr. Đức came and sat beside her. Together, they gazed at the serene waters—the very place where, 20 years earlier, a heroic act had turned into a lasting symbol of gratitude and goodness.

“This,” said Mr. Đức softly,
“is the most meaningful thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

Thank you for taking the time to follow this true story of Chairman Trần Minh Đức and Ms. Nguyễn Thị Lan.

This is more than just a touching tale—it is a profound life lesson.
It reminds us that kindness is never wasted.

Ms. Lan saved a child’s life 20 years ago, expecting nothing in return.
And yet, that selfless act brought her a new life filled with love and purpose.

We are reminded not to judge others too quickly—sometimes what seems suspicious may hide the purest intentions.
Mr. Đức realized that people—not machines or profit—are a company’s greatest asset.

In life, we may encounter our own “Ms. Lan”—those who quietly do good without recognition.
Let’s open our hearts and honor them.