Chapter 22 — A Sweetness Forgotten

Three weeks after the signing date, Ngọt Xưa's main branch welcomed a record crowd of customers on the occasion of the weekend culinary festival organized by the city right on the street where the restaurant is located. Diệp Chi had prepared carefully all week long - doubling the amount of ingredients, mobilizing more seasonal staff, and even testing a few limited edition desserts just for the festival.

But no one could have predicted that, while the restaurant was crowded with customers on a Saturday evening, the whole neighborhood was suddenly plunged into darkness due to a widespread power outage - the result of a sudden thunderstorm that knocked down an electric pole a few streets away.

"Oh my god, if the power goes out at this hour, I'll die!" Tường Vy panicked, holding her phone in her hand to light the path among the crowd of customers milling about in the dark.

Diệp Chi stood in the middle of the kitchen, her heart pounding when she realized a series of problems were coming at the same time - the refrigerator storing the ingredients wouldn't keep the temperature for long, the electronic cashier system completely stopped working, and most importantly, nearly fifty customers were sitting waiting for orders in the middle of a dark space, their patience definitely wouldn't last long.

"Calm down, everyone calm down!" She shouted loudly, trying to keep her voice steady to reassure both staff and customers. "Tường Vy, take out all the candles and spare flashlights right away! Employees, if anyone has a spare charger, turn on your phone's flash to help illuminate the order area!"

The whole team quickly acted as directed, but the situation was still chaotic — there was no light enough for safe cooking, no electronic payment system, and a few guests began to feel uncomfortable, demanding to cancel their orders and leave.

In the midst of the most tension, the shop door opened and Thế Khôi walked in, holding two high-powered flashlights and a bag of emergency supplies.

"I heard about the power outage on the way through this area. I knew Ngọt Xưa was having an event tonight so I stopped by to see if I could help," he said, quickly assessing the situation with the sharp eyes of someone used to handling crises at work.

"Thank you, but—" Diệp Chi was about to refuse according to her familiar reflex, but then looking around at the chaotic scene, she stopped and swallowed her old words. "Okay, I really need help. Can you help the cashier area with cash? I'll read the prices, you take notes and collect the money for me."

"Okay." Thế Khôi nodded immediately, not showing any hesitation at this simple manual job, even though he was wearing an expensive business suit.

Within the next half hour, the whole restaurant operated in an emergency but organized state - Diệp Chi stood in the kitchen, using a backup gas stove to complete unfinished orders under the light of Tường Vy's flashlight; Thế Khôi sat at the temporary cashier counter, carefully recording each order, collecting cash, and exact change without missing a penny even though he had never done this job before; Other employees shared the dishes, explained the situation to customers with a warm attitude, and apologized for the inconvenience.

"You're charging so quickly, you must have experience?" An older customer jokingly asked when he saw Thế Khôi quickly calculating and changing money.

"That's the first time," Thế Khôi smiled, sweat beaded on his forehead from the stress and heat in the non-air-conditioned space. "But there are people who teach carefully so it shouldn't be wrong."

He glanced at Diệp Chi who was busy in the kitchen, the flashlight cast flickering streaks of light on her face, but her hands were still quick and precise in each movement, not flinching in the face of unexpected situations - the image reminded him exactly of the seventeen-year-old schoolgirl from back then, always calmly handling everything no matter how difficult the situation was.

Nearly an hour later, the power was restored, the whole shop lit up amidst the applause and cheers of customers, like a small celebration after a sudden crisis. Diệp Chi breathed a sigh of relief, wiped the sweat from his forehead, looked around the shop which was still in disarray but had gradually stabilized.

"Thank you very much," she said to Thế Khôi when they both had a chance to rest in the corner of the kitchen after the last batch of guests had left. "If it weren't for your help tonight, I would have had to close early and refund hundreds of orders."

"Nothing." Thế Khôi rubbed his wrists, tired from writing continuously for an hour, and smiled lightly. "It's been a long time since I've had a real hand job like that. It feels... more interesting than I thought."

Diệp Chi looked at him and suddenly burst out laughing when she saw the ink stain on his white shirt sleeve - an image strangely reminiscent of the coconut milk stain on his shirt twelve years ago.

"You know," she said, her voice suddenly becoming nostalgic, "twelve years ago, your same white uniform was stained because of me, and now it's ink. It seems like fate likes to stain your shirt every time we meet." Thế Khôi laughed out loud, a hearty laugh she had rarely heard from him since the day of their reunion. "If that's the price to be with you, I'm willing to get my entire wardrobe of shirts dirty."

That gentle joke made the atmosphere between the two become warmer and closer than the previous formal, calculated meetings - as if tonight's unexpected incident had accidentally removed the last remaining layers of defense between them, revealing a genuine, simple connection, no longer entangled by status or title, leaving only two people who had known each other since the purest days of their youth.

Tường Vy, who was cleaning nearby, glanced at the scene of two people sitting next to each other laughing and talking, smiled slightly to herself and then quietly retreated back, deliberately creating a private space for both of them without either of them realizing that subtlety.

"Are you hungry?" Diệp Chi asked, standing up and walking to the corner of the kitchen where there were still a few unused ingredients left. "Let me cook you a cup of sweet soup, as a thank you for your efforts tonight."

"Okay, then there's nothing better than that," Thế Khôi replied, his eyes shining with excitement.

Diệp Chi quickly cooked a small batch of sweet soup, not the shop's standard recipe, but an improvised variation she thought up on the spot - taro, coconut milk, adding a little thinly sliced young ginger to create a warm flavor suitable for the rainy night that had just ended. She scooped out two small bowls, placed them on the table, and sat opposite Thế Khôi.

He tasted a spoonful, his eyes narrowed slightly in surprise at the slight ginger flavor mixed with the familiar greasy taste.

"This taste is strange but delicious," he commented, taking another spoonful. "Never seen on Ngọt Xưa's menu."

"Because I just thought of it." Diệp Chi smiled, her eyes sparkling with a rare excitement. "Actually, I'm experimenting with the idea of adding a layer of warmth to traditional sweet soup, inspired by my mother's unfinished recipe."

"That 'Third Flavor' recipe you mentioned?" Thế Khôi asked, recalling a story she had told in a previous conversation.

"That's right." Diệp Chi nodded, her voice low and full of emotion. "My mother died when that recipe was unfinished. For ten years, I have never had the courage to try to perfect it, because I was afraid I would ruin the last thing she left behind."

"So why did you try today?" He asked, his eyes sincerely curious.

Diệp Chi pondered for a moment, looking down at the steaming cup of tea. "Maybe because tonight, witnessing everything being chaotic and then gradually stabilizing thanks to everyone working together, I suddenly realized that sometimes unfinished things don't need to be completed alone. Maybe another hand, another perspective, is needed to make it more complete."

Thế Khôi looked at her, feeling the deep meaning behind that seemingly simple sentence, and felt an indescribable warmth in his heart.

"So are you going to try again?" He asked, his voice full of encouragement. "Perfecting that formula, I mean."

"I think so." Diệp Chi nodded, her eyes determined. "But not right now. I want to test it a few more times to be completely sure before considering it complete. This is not something that can be done in a hurry."

"I get it." Thế Khôi nodded, respecting that decision. "If you need a taster, I'm always available."

Diệp Chi burst out laughing, her eyes sparkling with mischief that had rarely been seen since the day of their reunion. "Watch out, I'll make you try no less than twenty different versions until you find the right one."

"As much as it takes," Thế Khôi replied, his voice firm without any hesitation.

The two sat there for a while longer, chatting about simple things - about work, about old memories, about vague but hopeful future plans - in the tea shop space that gradually became quiet after a chaotic night, the warm yellow light covering both of them like a gentle layer of protection, completely separate from the chaos of work, business calculations, the invisible barriers that had separated them for twelve long years.