The Cost Control Unit for "Tây Hồ New City" Phase II officially launched. Nguyễn Văn (Van), now the Materials Cost Specialist, moved from the noisy site container into a relatively quiet office in the project administration building. Though small, with just two desks and filing cabinets, it had air conditioning, decent computers, and clean windows. This marked Van's transition from frontline operations to the analytical heart of project management.
His new partner was Thu (Thu), a cost accountant seconded from Finance. In her thirties, bespectacled, serious, and meticulous, Thu had five years of project finance experience but was rigid and skeptical of Van, the "parachuted" specialist lacking a finance background.
"Van, familiarize yourself with the unit's workflow and report templates," Thu said flatly, handing him thick files. "You'll handle data entry and initial analysis for material costs. I'll finalize the calculations and reports. Accuracy and format are non-negotiable."
"Understood, Thu. I'll learn carefully," Van replied humbly, aware of his financial knowledge gap.
His work transformed. No more site coordination; he now faced screens and mountains of paperwork: supplier invoices, material receipts, issue slips, inventory counts, contract payment terms. He categorized data, entered it into systems, checked amounts, quantities, specs, calculated variances between actual and budgeted costs, analyzed causes (price hikes? overuse? waste?), and submitted regular reports to Nguyễn Kim Hải (Kim Hải).
This was a steep learning curve. Night school accounting felt inadequate. Complex accounting codes, cost allocation methods, variance formulas made his head spin. He spent hours researching data sources or formula applications, asking Thu (whose answers were terse and impatient) or grilling his night school teacher.
But he was stubborn. He learned relentlessly: reading finance books during lunch breaks, studying report templates after work, practicing cost software in the night school lab on weekends. He tackled tedious data entry and basic analysis, even working late nights. He knew this was Kim Hải's test and his chance to prove himself.
Van quickly spotted issues. Analyzing material costs, he noticed a pattern: key materials like specific grade rebar for the main structure or fireproof cables for equipment rooms were procured well below market average, yet suppliers provided "compliant" quality certificates. Conversely, auxiliary materials like common sand or blocks were priced at or above market rates.
He recalled his site experience. Workers privately grumbled about the cheap key materials – "hard to work with," "less durable," "rusts easily." He'd seen low-grade rebar develop hairline cracks during bending, barely passing spot checks. Suppliers of the pricier auxiliary materials seemed "well-connected" to Procurement.
Van included this in his first monthly Material Cost Analysis report. He didn't directly accuse Procurement but used data: listing market averages, project prices, and usage variances for key materials; comparing auxiliary material prices to other projects; analyzing potential quality risks and future maintenance costs from cheap materials. He recommended: "Prioritize quality and safety for key materials; avoid excessive low-price focus; consider long-term value. Strengthen market comparisons and supplier management for auxiliary materials to find savings."
Kim Hải didn't respond immediately. Days later, Van was summoned.
"Van, I read your report," Kim Hải sat behind his large desk, fingers drumming. "Detailed data, interesting analysis. But..." his tone sharpened, "Cost control's core? Saving money! Cutting costs! Boosting profit! You note low prices for key materials? That's good! Saves money! Quality? Certificates, spot checks, meet contract specs – that's enough! Site gripes are normal, don't affect use or handover! You worry about 'long-term maintenance costs'? That's the owner's problem! We deliver profitably, on time, get paid – that's what matters!"
Van's heart sank. He tried to explain: "Sir, I'm not against savings. But... key parts need quality for longevity. Problems damage our reputation, cause rework, even lawsuits – bigger losses. And auxiliary material prices... have room for reduction."
"Enough!" Kim Hải cut him off, impatient. "I know you're thorough, think long-term. But business is war! Competition is brutal! Low bids win! No cost cuts, no profit! Quality? Passable is fine! Owners don't know better! Shiny at handover suffices! Your 'long-term risks'? Too distant! Focus on immediate profit!" He waved dismissively. "Report's good. Next time, focus on finding more savings, especially high-volume areas! Less on 'possible' risks! Be practical!"
Van left the office conflicted. He felt the stark difference in values: Kim Hải chased fast, visible short-term profit, willing to risk unseen quality and long-term issues. Van, influenced by Chen Qiming, valued steady, sustainable value, seeing quality as foundational and short-term savings as potential time bombs. This rift felt like an invisible chasm.
After night school, Van seemed downcast. Linh noticed. "Van? What's wrong? Work trouble?" she asked softly, packing her bag.
Van sighed. Walking beside her out of school, Hanoi's night buzzing around them, he briefly shared the report and Kim Hải's reaction.
"I guess... Mr. Kim has a point, competition is tough..." Linh offered cautiously, but seeing Van frown, added quickly, "But... you're right too! Building matters! Bad materials hurt people! My dad's school used cheap paint once – awful smell, kids got dizzy! Had to scrape it off, cost more!"
Linh's support warmed Van. He hadn't expected her to side with him.
"Thanks, Linh," he murmured. "Just... frustrating. Seeing problems, unable to speak, or ignored."
"Don't give up!" Linh stopped, facing him under a streetlight, eyes clear and firm. "Van, you're doing right! Stick to your principles! Maybe no one listens now, but your value will show! Like... like Mr. Chen said, true value takes time!"
Her words flowed into Van like warmth. Looking into her bright eyes, a strange flutter stirred. A breeze ruffled strands of hair near her forehead. Van instinctively raised his hand to brush them away but stopped halfway, awkwardly.
Linh's cheeks flushed slightly. She looked down. "Um... accounting midterm next week... how's your prep? Want to... study together this weekend? My notes are ready."
Van's heart skipped. Study together? Weekend? Was this... a date?
"Y...Yes!" Van nodded quickly, voice tight. "I... need help with many parts."
"Saturday afternoon? Book Cafe by Hoan Kiem Lake? Quiet, has plugs?" Linh suggested softly.
"Okay! Saturday, 2 PM?" Van's pulse quickened.
"Mm!" Linh nodded, blush deepening. "See you tomorrow!" She turned and walked away, steps light.
Van stood, watching her disappear around the corner, his frustration replaced by sweet anticipation. Saturday afternoon... Hoan Kiem Lake... cafe... Was this... their first "date"?