The story began on a late winter morning, when Mr. Lâm—a man in his sixties—held with trembling hands the certificate of title to the land he had just renamed in his son’s name. A retired government official, he had spent his entire life saving and working hard until he was finally able to build a spacious house in the suburbs. That house, he considered his greatest asset—the place where his children and grandchildren would gather, and the home he would look forward to in his old age.
Out of love for his son, he decided to transfer the land title to his eldest son, Hùng, and his wife. He simply thought: “If they have the papers, they will feel secure in their business, and eventually, there will be no disputes. Besides, I believe that my son will always remain filial and fulfill his duty as a child.”
But to his surprise, the moment they left the notary’s office, Hùng’s words pierced his heart like a knife:
— “From now on, don’t interfere with this house. This house belongs to my wife and I. There is no place for you here.”
Mr. Lâm was stunned. He couldn’t believe what he heard. The very house he had built with sweat and toil had suddenly become a “stranger’s home” for him.
After transferring the title of the house, his son kicked him out—but they didn’t know that he had 10 billion hidden…
Before he could explain, Hùng urged his father to pack some personal belongings. Mr. Lâm silently took out a small bag, stuffed with some old clothes. Few knew that inside that bag—along with the useless things—was a savings book worth more than 10 billion đồng, the sum of his lifelong savings, hidden from everyone.
The cold wind weighed down his steps. He walked out of the house with sad eyes and deep bitterness in his heart.
Mr. Lâm went out in the dark twilight. With nowhere to go, he walked around until he saw a teahouse by the roadside, where he sat empty-handed for several hours. The shopkeeper, seeing his tired figure, thought he was a lost old man, occasionally asking:
— “Uncle, where are you going so late?”
He forced a smile
whimsically:— “Ah… I’m just looking for a place to stay.”
A few days later, he rented a small room on the edge of the village. It was barely ten square meters and damp, but for him, it was a haven. Every day, he would quietly cycle to the market to eat vegetables, sometimes sitting at a street cafe to watch people pass by.
Surprisingly, he never touched that 10 billion savings book. He lived a simple life, just like before. To outsiders, he looked like a poor and sad old man—but inside, he carried a secret that no one knew.
During countless sleepless nights, Mr. Lâm often asked himself:
— “If my son knew I still had money, would he treat me differently? Or would he just consider me a wallet?”
He did not blame life, nor was he quick to blame his son. He understood that times change, and so do people’s hearts. But he believed that one day, the truth would come out—and only then would he know who truly loved him, and who only considered him a burden.
One day, he visited an old friend—Mr. Thành, who had been a close colleague. After hearing the story, Thành became angry and sad:
— “You were right to hide that money. Don’t let him know. When the time comes, use it to live comfortably. Don’t suffer anymore.”
Mr. Lâm gave a weak, bitter smile, although his eyes held determination. Perhaps he was beginning to realize that in old age, one should not blindly trust anyone—even one’s own children.
Time passed, and news of Mr. Lâm’s plight spread throughout the village. Some pitied him, others blamed him:
— “He was stupid, he transferred everything to his son.”
– “Old people trust easily, and betrayal always leaves them broken.”
Meanwhile, back home, Hùng and his wife were in financial trouble. Their business had collapsed, debts were piling up. They had thought the house would be a “shield,” but now the bank was relentlessly pressuring them. Hùng began to think about his father—not out of love, but out of suspicion that he might be hiding money somewhere.
One afternoon, Hùng went to his father’s rented room. He knocked on the door, his voice pleading:
— “Dad, I made a mistake. I’m sorry. Come home with me. The house won’t be the same without you.”
Mr. Lâm looked at his son, his gaze deep and unreadable. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he quietly poured a cup of tea and placed it on the table. In the cramped little room, the clock chimed, striking the hearts of father and son.
In the old wooden cabinet, the 10 billion livres of savings still lay untouched. He had never spent it, never told a soul about it.
Would he give it to help his son out of poverty—or keep it, to live out the rest of his years in peace?
No one knew the answer—not even himself. The only certainty was that from that moment on, their father-son bond stood at a crossroads, torn between love and greed.
The story ended with the image of Mr. Lâm sitting in silence, his hand resting lightly on a cup of tea, his eyes staring out the misty window…