SHE THREW HER SHOE AT MY SCARRED FATHER—UNTIL THE MOST POWERFUL GUEST STOOD UP
Chapter 1: THE HUMILIATION THAT SILENCED AN ENTIRE GRAND OPENING
The deafening sound of fireworks still echoed through one of Hangzhou’s busiest commercial districts. Yet inside the lavish grand-opening ceremony for Tan Huong Media Company, the celebration was about to descend into a silence so profound that even the hundreds of distinguished guests would be left speechless.
Truong Ham had just stepped onto the stage to accept an award recognizing his company as a strategic business partner. His face, moments earlier glowing with pride and satisfaction, suddenly drained of color.
His eyes were fixed on an elderly man standing awkwardly in a secluded corner near the VIP parking area.
That man was Lam Van Son.
His father-in-law.
Van Son was a retired firefighter whose life had been permanently altered by a devastating fire seven years earlier. The disaster had cost him portions of the skin on his face and left heel, leaving him with painful scars and a damaged leg that would never fully recover.
Even walking short distances was difficult for him.
But today was an important day for his family.
His son-in-law was celebrating the opening of a successful company, and Van Son wanted nothing more than to witness that achievement with his own eyes.
He had struggled through three subway transfers, dragging his injured leg along the way. Throughout the exhausting journey, he had carefully held a small basket of gerbera daisies wrapped in cellophane that had already begun to yellow with age.
It was not an expensive present.
There was no luxurious ribbon, no extravagant decoration, and nothing about the gift that would impress the wealthy guests attending the ceremony.
But the flowers represented the sincere congratulations of a father who had very little to give except his love.
Unfortunately, the sight of him stirred no sympathy in the woman who considered herself the grandest host of the entire event.
Vuong Que Hoa, Lam Nha’s mother-in-law and the largest shareholder of the powerful Vuong Textile Group, marched toward him with unmistakable anger.
Accustomed to wealth, privilege, and a life of luxury, she examined Van Son from head to toe.
Her sharp eyes moved over his faded, worn clothing, his permanently scarred face, and the slight medicinal smell that clung to him from years of treatment.
Surrounded by businessmen in immaculate tailored suits, she regarded his presence as an unforgivable embarrassment.
She could not bear the thought of someone who looked so poor standing anywhere near her family’s celebration.
Then, without the slightest concern for his dignity, she raised her voice.
“Get out of here! Don’t stand around making my family’s grand opening look dirty!”
Her shrill words tore through the festive atmosphere.
Hundreds of business partners, journalists, investors, and invited guests turned their heads toward the commotion.
Van Son trembled.
His rough, weathered fingers tightened around the handle of the flower basket. He lowered his head, plainly frightened by the sudden attention.
“M-Madam… I… I only wanted to see the children doing well,” he stammered. “I wouldn’t dare go inside. I was only going to stand here… that’s all.”
His voice was quiet and apologetic.
He was not asking for a seat of honor.
He was not expecting recognition.
He simply wanted to look at the company his daughter and son-in-law had helped build, offer his flowers, and quietly share in their happiness.
But Que Hoa was not satisfied.
“Look at what?” she snapped. “That hideous face of yours? Those awful scars make you look like a monster! Just standing here is enough to make our guests sick!”
The insult was cruel enough to leave the surrounding guests stunned.
And yet she had not finished.
Overwhelmed by her own anger, Que Hoa abruptly bent down and pulled off one of the expensive designer high-heeled sandals she was wearing.
Before anyone could intervene, she swung her arm and hurled it directly at Lam Van Son’s face.
Smack!
A sharp, unmistakable sound rang through the gathering.
The sandal struck his cheek, landing against the very burn scars he had carried for years.
Van Son recoiled.
The basket slipped from his trembling hands and crashed onto the polished granite floor.
Flowers scattered in every direction.
Delicate petals, carefully protected throughout his long journey, were crushed beneath the expensive shoes of the people surrounding him.
The old firefighter instinctively raised his hands to shield his face.
He had once entered blazing buildings to protect strangers.
Now he stood helpless before members of his own family.
At that very moment, Lam Nha, Truong Ham’s wife, emerged from the inner reception hall.
She witnessed everything.
“Dad!”
Her scream cut through the crowd.
She rushed toward him, pushed through the surrounding guests, and dropped to her knees beside her father.
