Chapter 12 — A Sweetness Forgotten

"Mr. Khoi, I have just compiled a list of twenty potential brands for the Coi Quarter project." Đường Bích Ngọc placed a thick file on the desk, his usual professional tone. "I have arranged the rating from high to low, based on the criteria I set - product quality, brand recognition, chain operation ability, and brand story." Thế Khôi nodded, opened the file, scanned each page briefly introducing local culinary brands. It's been three weeks since the project was approved. He and his team have surveyed no less than fifty big and small brands across the city, gradually filtering to find the most worthy names.

He turned to the fourth page, and paused.

"Ngọt Xưa," the bold text at the top of the page, accompanied by an image of a modern tea shop that still retains a rustic, cozy look, along with a short introduction: *"The dessert - dessert brand started from a small shop, currently has eleven branches, founded and run by Ms. Chử Diệp Chi, who went through many ups and downs before building the brand from scratch."*

Thế Khôi felt the entire room freeze for a second. He read that name again, then again, not daring to believe his eyes.

"Mr. Khoi, what's wrong with you?" Bích Ngọc asked, noticing her boss's unusual expression.

"Nothing," Thế Khôi replied, trying to keep his voice calm even though his heart was pounding. "Chử Diệp Chi... founder of this brand, do you have any more information?"

"Yes, let me check the file again." Bích Ngọc flipped through the document and read it quickly. "She's thirty years old, started her business at the age of twenty-four after many years of working as a kitchen assistant and learning the trade. There's no information about her formal education — she probably didn't go to college. The media often calls her 'the woman who keeps the old sweetness', quite famous in the culinary startup world in recent years."

Each detail, like pieces of a picture that had been forgotten for twelve years, gradually fit together completely in Thế Khôi's head. Chử Diệp Chi. Thirty years old. Don't go to college. Started a career as a kitchen assistant.

That's her.

"Arrange for me a face-to-face survey at Ngọt Xưa's main branch, as soon as possible," he spoke, trying to maintain his usual professionalism, even though the hand holding the file trembled uncontrollably.

"Yes, let me contact you right away."

***

The main branch of "Ngọt Xưa" is located on a quiet small street, the facade is designed in a nostalgic and modern style - rustic bare brick walls, warm yellow lights, carefully polished wooden tables, and especially a small display corner with black and white photos of traditional tea making scenes, along with a wooden sign engraved with the words: "The sweetness is the same, only the way we tell the story is newer."

Thế Khôi stood in front of the shop for a long time before entering, his heart beating faster than any important meeting he had ever experienced in his career of the past twelve years. He wore a neat business suit, held a briefcase in hand, trying to maintain the appearance of a normal businessman surveying partners, but inside he was a mixed bag of nameless emotions.

He pushed the door open and entered. The small wind chime on the door rang softly.

The space inside was cozy, with a faint smell of coconut milk and pandan leaves so familiar that it made his chest tighten. A few tables of guests were sitting and enjoying themselves, with chatter and laughter mixed with light music coming from a small speaker placed in the corner.

And there, standing behind the open kitchen counter - where guests can directly observe the cooking process - is a woman wearing a simple brown apron, her hair neatly tied in a bun, and her hands are quickly scooping tea into each small cup with skillful movements, precise to every detail.

Diệp Chi looked up when she heard the doorbell ring. Her eyes moved over the newly arrived guest out of professional habit—then stopped completely.

The spoon in her hand fell onto the stainless steel table, emitting a cold sound of metal colliding in the space that suddenly became strangely quiet.

"So Khoi?" She blurted out, her voice so soft it was almost just a breath.

Twelve years. Twelve years have passed since the afternoon when she looked through the rearview mirror and saw him standing still in the middle of Lá Me alley. Twelve years since the night she turned off her phone and locked a part of her youth in the bottom of her suitcase. Now, the man standing in front of her - taller, more mature, with the confident look of someone used to managing and making decisions - still had unmistakable familiar features: deep eyes, the way he furrowed his eyebrows when surprised, and right now, a stunned expression exactly like the seventeen-year-old student who stood dumbfounded looking at the coconut milk stain on his shirt twelve years ago.

"Diệp Chi," Thế Khôi said, his voice was equally trembling, the briefcase in his hand almost fell to the ground. "Are... are you really you?"

The whole tea shop suddenly seemed to sink into a strange silence, although there were still customers chatting around and soft music still echoing. But between the two of them, time seemed to freeze, taking them both back to the moment twelve years ago, where a girl carrying a tea pot rushed across the school yard and bumped into a boy who had just transferred in, spilling a whole tub of coconut milk onto the pure white shirt of her seventeen year old.

Diệp Chi was the first to regain her composure, although her hands were still shaking as she bent down to pick up the spoon that had just fallen.

"Sorry, let me... let me call the manager to receive you," she spoke, trying to keep her tone professional, but her eyes still did not leave the face of the man standing in front of her, as if trying to confirm once again that this was not a hallucination she imagined after too many sleepless nights.

"No need." Thế Khôi took a step closer, his voice urgent. "I came here to find you. I am the Head of Business Development of Bách Khang Group. We have a project that we would like to invite Ngọt Xưa to cooperate with."

Diệp Chi stood still, the words "Bách Khang Group" rang in her head like a warning bell, pulling her back to the harsh reality - the man standing in front of her was not only her eighteen-year-old's unfinished first love, but also the official representative of the very corporation that once symbolized a world of luxury that she, for the past twelve years, had always consciously kept a distance from.

"Business cooperation," she repeated, her voice suddenly becoming stiff, putting on a veneer of professionalism as a self-defense instinct. "Okay, then please come into the private meeting room. Let's talk about work."

Thế Khôi looked at her and immediately recognized the change in attitude - from a stunned, momentarily emotional Diệp Chi, she had now returned to a calm businesswoman, keeping a careful distance. He understands that twelve years of separation was not simply the passage of time, but had created thick layers of defense that he would have to be patient, very patient, to gradually remove.

"Okay." He nodded, his voice regaining the necessary professionalism. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Diệp Chi."

That formal way of addressing, even though they both knew it was just a thin cover, still made both of their hearts clench painfully, as a clear reminder that, no matter how sweet the memories, they were currently standing in two completely different positions, and the road to finding each other again, if there was one, would certainly not be easy.

Diệp Chi led him into a small room at the back of the shop, where she still used to meet with suppliers and partners. On the way, she tried to keep a steady pace, even though her mind was still reeling with a series of unanswered questions — why him, why now, and whether this was a coincidence or a part of destiny that she had never believed in.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Thế Khôi attentively observing the restaurant space, her eyes stopping for a long time at the corner displaying black and white photos, at the wooden sign engraved with the words about constant sweetness. She wondered if he realized how much of this layout was memories of Lá Me alley from back then.

"Please sit down." She pulled out a chair and sat down opposite, trying to keep enough distance between the two of them across the small wooden table. "You said you had a project you wanted to cooperate with. I heard."

Thế Khôi looked at her, realizing that the barrier she had just set up was so obvious that it was undeniable, but he also realized that, behind that facade of professionalism, her hands were still clasped together under the table, a small gesture that revealed that she was struggling to keep calm just as much as he was.