Chapter 12 — Makeup Artist for the Final Journey

Bùi Diệu Thanh appeared in Vĩnh An on a Monday morning, wearing a crisp white shirt, her hair tied neatly, clutching a briefcase as if it were the only thing that helped her keep calm. She stood in front of the gate for nearly ten minutes before daring to enter, something An Nhiên only learned later when Mr. Nghi told her, because he happened to see it through a security camera.

"Hello, I'm Diệu Thanh, I'm here to get a job today," she said, her voice trembling slightly, bowing her head in greeting when An Nhiên came to greet her in the lobby.

"Hello, An Nhiên here. From today I will guide you to get used to the job." An Nhiên smiled, trying to create a feeling of comfort for the young girl who was clearly very nervous. "Don't worry, everything will be gradual, no one will force you to do difficult things right away on the first day." Diệu Thanh nodded, but her eyes were still a little confused as she walked through the main hall, where there were a few gentle landscape paintings hanging on the wall, and the scent of incense wafted in the air. "Sister, I'm sorry if I ask a stupid question, but... is this job scary? I studied nursing, and also practiced at a hospital, but have never had direct contact with... a deceased person."

An Nhiên stopped and turned to look at the young girl with understanding eyes. "I remember the first day I came here, I asked Mr. Nghi the same question. He answered me like this: work is not scary, what is scary is the prejudices we carry before we really understand it. Just take things slowly, I will accompany you in the first cases."

*

That morning, An Nhiên took Diệu Thanh on a tour of the entire Vĩnh An, introduced each area, explained the basic working process, but did not immediately take her into the preparation room - the same way Mr. Nghi taught her five years ago, so that newcomers have time to get used to the space and work rhythm, before facing the core and most sensitive work.

"In the past, how long did it take you to get used to the job?" Diệu Thanh asked, as the two sat resting in the memorial garden behind, where a few jade orchids were giving off a light scent in the morning sunlight.

"I think, there is no specific timeline." An Nhiên replied, sitting on the stone bench, looking out at the green yard. "There are skills I learn after a few weeks or months. But there are things I still learn every day, even though I've been working for five years. Each shift is a new lesson, about people, about love, about how people deal with loss. I think, if there comes a day when you feel like you can no longer learn anything new from this job, then that's the time to worry." Diệu Thanh nodded, listening attentively, her eyes gradually becoming less tense. "I heard that you are highly appreciated by Mr. Nghi. Are you under pressure to live up to that standard?"

An Nhiên laughed lightly, a comfortable laugh she rarely showed during working hours. "I don't think about it much. I just try to do my best, with each person I care for. What is called 'good' in this profession, I think, is not perfect technique, but whether you are sincere with your work or not."

"So how do we get that 'sincerity'?" Diệu Thanh asked, his voice serious.

An Nhiên was silent for a moment, thinking about the question, then answered, slowly. "I think, each person has their own reason to start this profession, and that reason, if we don't forget it, will keep us honest. For me, it's a story of my family, I haven't told anyone here except Mr. Nghi and Mr. Khang. But I think, gradually, when you trust me enough, maybe I will tell you." Diệu Thanh nodded, did not ask further, naturally respected the boundary An Nhiên had just set, without needing to clarify.

At lunch break, Nguyên Khang stopped by the garden, brought food for all three of them, saw that Diệu Thanh was still a bit unfamiliar and took the initiative to start a conversation. "Are you Thanh? Mr. Khang, in charge of the hearse and ceremonies here. If you don't understand anything, just ask me and Ms. Nhien, don't be shy."

"Yes, thank you," Diệu Thanh replied, somewhat less nervous at his friendliness.

"When I first came in, I was very confused. I was afraid of not driving at the right speed, afraid of doing something wrong," Nguyên Khang arranged the rice on the stone table as he spoke, his voice cheerful and light. "But you get used to it after working hard. The important thing is to keep your mind, and you can learn the skills slowly."

"Mr. Khang is right." An Nhiên continued, smiling at the two people. "Everyone here is the same. No one is good from the beginning. As long as you have heart, everything will gradually be okay."

The three of them had lunch together in a comfortable atmosphere. Diệu Thanh gradually opened up, talking about her hometown, about why she chose to study nursing and then turned to this job after witnessing her grandmother pass away in the hospital without anyone taking care of her in her last moments. An Nhiên listened and realized a certain similarity between Diệu Thanh's story and her own story, even though the circumstances were not entirely the same.

*

In the afternoon, An Nhiên brought Diệu Thanh into the preparation room for the first time, but only to observe, not directly participate, while she handled a simple case - an old man passed away from old age, the family had fully prepared mentally in advance. Diệu Thanh stood in the corner of the room, her hands clasped together, her face pale a little when she saw the work up close for the first time, but she did not step back, trying to observe An Nhiên's every move with serious attention.

"Are you okay?" An Nhiên asked, when she saw Diệu Thanh looking a bit dazed after the first few minutes.

"I'm fine, just a little... a little emotional," Diệu Thanh replied, taking a deep breath to calm down. "You do it so gently, like you're taking care of a living person, it's not like... I don't know how to describe it properly."

"That's right." An Nhiên smiled, her hands still working. "I always think that even though people have passed away, they still deserve to be treated with the same respect as when they were alive. That is the most basic principle I learned from Mr. Nghi, and now I want to pass it on to you."

At the end of the session, when the work was completed, Diệu Thanh stood looking at An Nhiên's achievements, the old man's calm face, and spoke, his voice somewhat emotional. "I think I will learn a lot from you, An Nhiên. Thank you for being patient with me today."

"It's nothing. In the past, Mr. Nghi was just as patient with me." An Nhiên replied, placing her hand on the young girl's shoulder in a friendly manner. "If this profession is not passed on to the next person, something very valuable will be lost. I hope you will stick with it for a long time, if you feel this is truly your path." Mr. Nghi, standing at the door of the room for an unknown time, spoke up to contribute, his voice full of satisfaction. "I've been observing all afternoon. You two are very compatible, one teaches carefully, the other studies hard. I believe Vĩnh An will keep his passion for this profession for many more years, thanks to people like you two."

"Thank you for your trust, teacher." An Nhiên replied, bowing her head slightly, a feeling of quiet pride rising in her heart that she rarely allowed herself to fully feel.

Diệu Thanh nodded, her eyes were no longer as confused as in the morning, but shone with a new, pure determination of a person who had just found the first meaning in the job she chose.

Before leaving, Diệu Thanh lingered a bit in the preparation room, watching An Nhiên rearrange the tool tray in the familiar order - small brushes on the left, large brushes on the right, color boxes arranged in tones from light to dark. She quietly observed, then personally picked up a towel that fell on the floor, folded it and placed it in the exact drawer where she had just seen An Nhiên put similar things away, without needing to be reminded.

An Nhiên saw that small action, smiled slightly, said nothing, just nodded briefly. Diệu Thanh responded with a timid but sincere smile, then bowed, carried her bag and walked out the gate, her gait much steadier than when she first arrived this morning.

Standing alone in the preparation room with the lights turned off, An Nhiên looked around the familiar room, then locked the door and walked out, where the afternoon sun was dyeing a light orange color on the tree line in front of Vĩnh An. She cycled home, feeling lighter than usual, carrying a new feeling of starting to become a link in the chain of vocational transmission that she herself had been entrusted with, and wondering, many years later, how, in what way, with what words Diệu Thanh would recount this day to another student of her own.