Chapter 16 — After the Cracks, I Become Myself

"Wait for me to come home."

After hanging up. On Nhuoc Van stood for a long time in front of the sea. The wind blew and made her eyes sting. She is her most important person in Loc Khe. Not the important kind of friend. A teacher. He never taught her advanced techniques. But he taught her one thing.

"Just work hard."

"Don't think too much."

"As long as my hands are still working."

"Then your heart won't be chaotic."

It's that saying. Supported her through the most difficult times. Wen Nhuoc Van decided to end her schedule early in Shenzhen. She emailed the organizers. And also the brand side. Explain the situation. Everyone is very understanding. Before leaving. She called Mr. Phuong.

"Mr. Phuong."

"The matter of cooperation..."

"I've finished thinking."

Phuong's voice carried a smile.

"I agree."

Wen Nhuoc Van said softly.

"But I have one condition."

"You say it."

"My creative studio will always be in Loc Khe."

"I won't move to big cities."

"All my works."

"Everything will be created from Loc Khe."

The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds. Mr. Phuong burst out laughing.

"No problem."

"There is only the right land."

"Only can we nurture truly good works."

"I get it."

"Thank you."

"What about the solo exhibition..."

"Have you thought about the topic yet?"

"Next spring."

On Nhuoc Van replied softly.

"I'm done thinking about it."

'Suu Street'.

Mr. Phuong paused.

"I mean..."

"Stitches to mend?"

"Or the gaps between the cracks?"

On Nhuoc Van smiled. Mid October. On Nhuoc Van returned to Loc Khe. Just entered town. The first thing she did. It's to Mr. Tham's house. He lives in a small house behind the pottery factory. The yard is not big. But it's cleaned up very neatly. When she arrived. He was lying on a rattan chair outside in the sun. It's a cup of hot tea. Compared to last month. He lost a little weight. But the face is still quite good.

"Are you back?"

He did not get up. Just slightly raised his eyelids to look at her.

"I'm home."

On Nhuoc Van sat down next to him.

"What did the doctor say?"

"Tell me to stop smoking."

"Stop standing next to the furnace."

Mr. Tham coughed softly.

"I told them."

"I've been burning the stove for thirty years."

"Tell me to avoid the oven."

"It's like telling a fish not to go into the water."

"Then you should listen to the doctor."

"Even more serious than a doctor."

Mr. Tham shook his head and smiled. On Nhuoc Van couldn't help but laugh as well. She opened her bag. Take out a small box. Place it next to your hand.

"A gift I brought from Shenzhen."

"A type of purple sand soil."

"The seller said it was a newly opened mine."

Mr. Tham opened the box. Use your fingertips to test the soil. He closed the lid of the box.

"Wait until you get well."

"Then play around."

"No rush."

On Nhuoc Van smiled.

"Let's wait until you feel better."

Mr. Tham looked at her for a long time. Suddenly spoke up.

"Let's go back."

"I've changed."

"Change where?"

"Deeper."

He spoke slowly.

"The day before."

"It's trying to rush out."

"Know how to take it back."

"Collect like that."

On Nhuoc Van said nothing. Mr. Tham is right. After four exhibition stages. Pass through four cities. She really felt like she was different. The day before. She composes. It's to prove something. Prove you're still good. Proof of leaving someone. I can still live well. She doesn't need to prove it anymore. She makes pottery. Those are two completely different dynamics. Leave Mr. Tham's house. Wen Nhuoc Van resisted to my little house. Dau Bao was waiting right in front of the gate. Mrs. Phuong must have heard the noise. Should release it. The cat wrapped around her leg. Meow continuously. The tail stands straight up.

"Miss me already?"

On Nhuoc Van squatted down. Pat its head. Dau Bao snorted twice. Then jump up onto the wall. Leisurely licking his claws. I don't even remember her that much. On Nhuoc Van burst out laughing. She put her luggage away. Then bring a chair to sit in the middle of the yard. Cinnamon flowers have bloomed. It's all a gentle, sweet scent. She closed her eyes. Take a deep breath. Feeling the whole person. From the inside out. All relax. Also returned. This is where she belongs. Wen Nhuoc Van opened the computer. Deal with piles of leftover emails. Phuong Dat Cultural Company has sent an official representation contract. She read it carefully once. No problem. Immediately sign. Scan documents. Then send it back. The exhibition organizing committee also sent a summary report. Four exhibition points. The total number of visitors exceeded three thousand. There were more than ten news articles. Two art museums also expressed their desire to collect her works. Wen Nhuoc Van replied to each email in turn. To the last letter. It belongs to Pho Hanh Chi. Not a new message. It's the email he forwarded. This is the official account of Loc Khe Civil Affairs Department. He only wrote one line.

"I've checked. The Loc Khe Civil Affairs Bureau conducts divorce procedures from Tuesday to Saturday, requiring both parties to be present. You choose the time."

On Nhuoc Van looked at that line. He really did his research carefully. Doesn't last long. Don't avoid it. No bargaining. She said she wanted to meet in person. He immediately prepared everything to sign directly. On Nhuoc Van thought for a moment. Then reply to emails.

"Next Thursday. Morning."

Three minutes later. A response email is immediately sent.

"Okay. I'll be there a day before."

Everything. It has been decided. On Nhuoc Van closed the computer. The scent of cinnamon flowers in the yard still gently spreads. The moon hangs above the top of the cinnamon tree. On Nhuoc Van leaned back in his chair. Quietly watching that moonlight. Thursday next week. Everything... Will officially end. Three years of marriage. Two years apart. Five years of trouble. Just one morning. It can end it all. She once thought. To this day. I'll probably have a lot of emotions. Or more or less still unwilling.