In 1994, a villager in Dinh Bang, Bac Ninh, unearthed a relic from the Ly Dynasty beside a well. It was a bronze crane—its figure tall, its head broad, its beak curved, and its body adorned with delicate carvings. Local lore held that the discovery of such treasures foretold the arrival of seekers from afar. As if to fulfil the prophecy arrived Ly Xuong Can.
As if fulfilling an ancient prophecy, Dinh Bang welcomed a remarkable group of visitors that same year, travelling nearly 3,000 kilometres to reach the village. Among them was Mr Ly Xuong Can—known in Korea as Lee Chang Kun—born in 1958 in Seoul. He is the 31st generation descendant of King Ly Thai To (974–1028), founder of the Ly Dynasty (1009–1225), and the 26th generation descendant of Prince Ly Long Tuong (Lee Yong Sang), son of King Ly Anh Tong, and sixth in line from Ly Thai To.
Mr Ly shared that his journey of rediscovery began in the years following the 1953 armistice that divided the Korean Peninsula. His uncle had relocated from the North to the South and made it his life’s work to uncover and preserve the family's lineage. He also tended the tomb of Prince Ly Long Tuong and was a devoted storyteller, keeping the history of the Ly family alive through generations. By 1967, when Korean newspapers first began to write about the descendants of the Ly family, young Mr Can—then around ten—realised this was no ordinary tale. A quiet curiosity grew into a deep yearning to understand his ancestry.

Above As Mr Ly noted, 1994—the year he returned—was the year of Mau Tuat
At the time, however, returning to Vietnam remained impossible. The country was still at war, and diplomatic ties existed only between South Korea and the former South Vietnam. It wasn’t until 22 December 1992, when formal relations were established between Vietnam and South Korea, that the idea of coming home truly began to take shape. Mr Can, still working as an engineer, began to contemplate leaving his career behind. He assumed the family role once held by his uncle—caretaker of genealogical records and heirlooms—and presented the collection to Mr Nguyen Phu Binh, then Vietnam’s Ambassador to South Korea. The Ambassador, fluent in Korean and well-versed in history, was both astonished and profoundly touched. The process of bringing the Ly Hoa Son family back to Vietnam progressed with unexpected ease.
An age-old prophecy had long echoed through the oral tradition of Dinh Bang: "When the Bang Forest runs out of trees / When the Tao Khe runs dry, Ly shall return." The land around the village was once dense forest, known as Bang. The Tao Khe river exists now only in memory; only a few ponds remain. When the Ly family made their return from Korea, village elders repeated the old verse, a quiet affirmation that reunion had always been hoped for, if not expected.
There was one further twist in the tale. As Mr Ly noted, 1994—the year he returned—was the year of Mau Tuat. It was also the birth year of both King Ly Thai To (974) and Mr Ly himself (1958). A coincidence, perhaps. Or, as some might say, fate, lightly disguised.
Meeting and Reunion (title of a Bac Ninh Quan Ho folk song)

Above When Ly Xuong Can first returned to Vietnam, his initial focus was to verify the long-standing story of the Ly family’s years of migration and settlement in Korea
When Ly Xuong Can first returned to Vietnam, his initial focus was to verify the long-standing story of the Ly family’s years of migration and settlement in Korea. He then turned his attention to community efforts in the Dinh Bang area, most notably by awarding scholarships to students at Ly Thai To School. Following his initial donation from personal funds, he rallied support within the clan to continue the initiative, encouraging contributions from relatives. To this day, his connection with the Ly family descendants in Vietnam remains close and enduring.
Mr Can recalled that before setting foot in Vietnam, limited access to information and communication led him to believe the country was more developed than Korea. Television footage of the war—mostly depicting mountainous terrain—shaped his impression that Vietnam had no flatlands. But when his plane touched down in Hanoi, and he looked out over the broad plains reminiscent of Korea’s outskirts, he realised how far removed his assumptions had been. “At the time, there were no direct flights from Korea, so I had to fly to Ho Chi Minh City and travel onwards to Hanoi. The capital was still struggling. The landscape around it looked bleak, and the people’s expressions seemed heavy—nothing like the cheerful faces you see now (laughs). Maybe the country was still recovering from the war, and people hadn’t yet rediscovered joy. But compared to now, the pace of development has been astonishing. I was truly surprised,” he reflected, as though trying to make sense of his earlier misunderstandings.
Read more: How to spend 48 hours in Hanoi

Above Photos from Mr Ly Xuong Can’s archive
Hanoi’s hardship at the time made it all the more surprising when, just six years after his first visit, Mr Ly Xuong Can sold off his assets in Korea and returned to Vietnam with his wife and children to begin a new chapter. Yet for him, the decision felt natural—perhaps even inevitable. “When I brought my whole family back in 2000, I didn’t think too much about whether we could manage. I felt it was a calling, a destiny arranged by God. I had returned to my homeland to play a role in its development, to help build a bridge of understanding and cooperation between Korea and Vietnam. My mother had already passed away, and my father was strongly opposed—he feared for the children, who were still young and unfamiliar with the language, and for the challenges ahead in a country still finding its footing. But my love for my homeland, and my desire to contribute, made our decision firm.”
Unable to change his son's mind, Ly Xuong Can’s father chose to return as well, spending his final years in Vietnam. He is now buried near Dinh Bang.
It has been twenty-five years since Mr Ly made the choice to leave behind a secure life in Korea. Even now, life in Vietnam is not without its difficulties, particularly as he is still not fluent in Vietnamese. But what gives him strength and pride is the memory of his first return: he was received with warmth and respect by senior leaders, including General Secretary Do Muoi. He had carried a quiet anxiety about the complex history between Vietnam and Korea, particularly their wartime entanglements. But that meeting reassured him—he saw that whatever the past held, it would not stand in the way of the future. “The relationship between Korea and Vietnam hasn’t always been easy,” he said. “But the leaders told me: we will not forget the past, but we must look to the future. I found that deeply moving.”
Who is Going Down (title of a Bac Ninh Quan Ho folk song)

Above General Vo Nguyen Giap speaks with Mr Ly Xuong Can (photo courtesy of Mr Ly Xuong Can’s archive)
Back in the northern reaches of Gyeongsang Province, Bonghwa is an inland region known for its cool climate, rich greenery and serene natural beauty. It is also a place of remembrance—a site dedicated to the legacy of Ly Truong Phat, a descendant of the Ly family. Here lies a unique settlement known as “Vietnam Village”, a community inhabited entirely by Vietnamese people.
Following the fall of the Ly Dynasty, political unrest caused members of the royal family to scatter far and wide, among them Uncle Ly Long Tuong. His path led him to the northern lands of Korea—then known as Goryeo. There, he settled, married, and fathered two sons. Remarkably, when the Mongols invaded Goryeo, he was already in his eighties, yet still chose to take up arms. He fought with distinction and emerged victorious. So moved was the King of Goryeo that he penned a letter of commendation, which remains in the possession of Mr Ly Xuong Can to this day. In 1711, to honour his contributions, the King awarded Ly Long Tuong a fief and had a monument erected at Thu Hang Mon—ensuring his lineage would be remembered as one of noble Vietnamese origin.
A cherished tale in Korea recounts how Uncle Ly Long Tuong, exiled from his homeland, would often climb a high mountain, gaze southward, and weep. The mountain where he stood was later named to reflect this longing—a poetic tribute meaning, "the body is here, but the heart yearns for the South."
Amid later upheavals in Korean history, one of Ly Long Tuong’s sons migrated to the southern part of the country. A new branch of the Ly family flourished there. Among its most notable members was Ly Truong Phat, who volunteered to serve in the Korean War. He died in action at a tender age. In honour of his patriotism and filial devotion, the people of Bonghwa built a temple dedicated to him, situated on elevated, verdant land.
From the time of Uncle Ly Long Tuong to the present day, the Ly family has passed through 26 generations in Korea. More than eight centuries on, the connection to their Vietnamese roots remains deeply felt.

Above Photo courtesy of Mr Ly Xuong Can’s archive
Much of this history has been shared by Mr Ly Xuong Can on his personal YouTube channel, a platform he created to recount the story of the Ly dynasty in Korea, the life of Uncle Ly Long Tuong, and his own family’s journey back to their ancestral homeland. When he first returned to Vietnam, the history was not widely known. Determined to raise awareness, Mr Can turned to the media.
His efforts were soon met with encouragement. During his early visits to Vietnam, several producers from Korean broadcaster KBS—coincidentally in the country at the time—learned of his story and decided to report on it. Following the segment’s broadcast, the Korean public became more familiar with the legacy of the Ly family and its descendants. Interest grew, and more media outlets followed, helping the story find a wider audience.
How Many People Under Heaven Know (Title of a Bac Ninh Quan Ho folk song)

Above Mr Can took pride in telling his friends he was a descendant of a Vietnamese king

Above Mr Can took pride in telling his friends he was a descendant of a Vietnamese king
When asked about the spirit of nostalgia shared by the Vietnamese and Korean peoples, Mr Ly Xuong Can remarked that, much like the Vietnamese, Koreans have long demonstrated a strong national identity. In particular, they show deep reverence for their forebears—honouring ancestors, grandparents and parents with enduring devotion. Even when living abroad, Koreans remain emotionally anchored to their homeland, and many express a wish to return to rest there after death. This strong sense of heritage is woven into their pride—evident in the way they speak of their lineage, their family names, and their descent. It was from this very culture that, as a child, Mr Can took pride in telling his friends he was a descendant of a Vietnamese king—of Uncle Ly Long Tuong himself.
“In Korea, each family keeps a genealogy tracing their lineage,” he explained. “Every year, we hold family gatherings, where the elders pass down knowledge of our roots recorded in the genealogy. But as Korea’s economy has grown, this reverence for ancestry is gradually fading. It is no longer kept alive in the same way,” he added, his tone tinged with regret.
In his view, Vietnam continues to uphold its cultural soul—developing its economy while still holding fast to its traditions. Yet he wonders whether that balance will endure. With economic growth, will national character remain as intact as it is today? Perhaps not, he reflects—but for now, he believes Vietnam still possesses a deeply rooted sense of pride. Evidence, he points out, lies in his YouTube channel, which has garnered more than 3.2 million followers. “The heartfelt, proud comments from young people show that our cultural essence has strength—and may well endure,” he said.

Above “Wherever we go, whatever we do, we must remember our roots”
Most poignantly, the story that spans nearly 800 years echoes the Vietnamese moral tradition of “remembering the source of the water we drink.” “Wherever we go, whatever we do, we must remember our roots,” he said. “I hope this value spreads among young people, as well as the more than six million overseas Vietnamese around the world—so that wherever we are, we hold our homeland close.”
“In life, everyone faces hardship. But when we carry strength within, no challenge is insurmountable. Preserving our roots and identity is not only a source of pride for younger generations, but also a powerful wellspring of motivation. When young people truly understand the worth of tradition, they won’t be easily swayed by hollow or fleeting ideals in modern life. Without that foundation, it’s easy to become lost. But those who stay connected to their origins—no matter where they are, what they do, or what they face—will always find the strength to go on,” he shared.
Article adapted from the original feature in Tatler Vietnam, April 2025 issue
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Credits
Photography: Huy Nguyen




