Chapter 29 — Old Book Repairer In A Small Alley

Doan Thuc Hien's memorial space, built on the same land Ung The Khang once bought to serve the clearance project, was completed after nearly six months of construction. It is a small two-story house, the architecture is in harmony with the surrounding ancient houses, the ground floor is arranged as a community library, the upper floor displays documents about Thuc Hien's life and works - including copies of the original manuscripts, letters, and an enlarged photo of her when she was young, hanging solemnly in the center.

The inauguration ceremony took place on a late autumn morning, when yellow leaves began to fall sporadically on the roads around Do Paper Alley. The whole alley eagerly prepared many days ago, hung flags and flowers, cleaned every corner, as if preparing to welcome a distinguished guest back from afar - and in a sense, that's true, because today, Thuc Hien, even if only through images and memories, has finally "returned" to the place where she once lived, loved, and wrote the most beautiful poems of her life.

Ung The Khang was present early, personally cutting the inauguration ribbon with Nha Ky and Mr. Vinh, three people representing three families that were once close and once separated, now standing together in a moment of complete reconciliation. Ung The Khang's aunt, the person who protested most harshly at the hall, was also present, standing quietly in a corner, holding a bouquet of white chrysanthemums to place in front of Thuc Hien's photo, a small gesture but with a profound meaning of reconciliation that no one expected.

Mr. Vu Khac Dien, even though his health was much weaker, still tried to be present, sitting in a wheelchair pushed by his son. His eyes filled with tears when he saw the entire exhibition space, especially the small corner dedicated to telling the story of the old printing house, about his days as a typesetter, recorded as an indispensable part of this history.

Duy Khoi, as the person in charge of the academic content of the memorial space, spent many months working with Nha Ky and Tieu Ngoc Lam to perfect every detail of the display, ensuring all information is accurate, has a solid scientific basis, while still maintaining the warmth and closeness required of a memorial space for the public. He also proposed to set aside a separate corner to display antique bookbinding tools, illustrating this craft that has been quietly kept a secret for sixty years, with a small sign expressing gratitude to three generations of the Khuc family.

Duy Khoi's university, after the whole incident calmed down, officially restored his position and honor, and even asked him to chair a new, in-depth research project on hidden copyright cases in literary history, taking the story of Smoke and Fog of Lac Ben as the starting point. Mr. Lu Dinh Toan, his dean, personally apologized for causing unnecessary pressure during the most difficult period, and became one of the most enthusiastic supporters of this new project.

After the solemn inauguration ceremony, when the guests gradually left, Lam and Duy Khoi walked together along the alley, the autumn afternoon sunlight dyed the familiar roofs yellow. The two stopped in front of Vong Chu shop, where all their journeys began.

"Miss Lam," Duy Khoi spoke up, his voice suddenly becoming unusually serious, "I have something to tell you."

Lam turned to look at him, feeling a change in the atmosphere, a seriousness mixed with nervousness that she had never seen in him before. "You say it."

Duy Khoi took a deep breath, then from his pocket took out a small object wrapped in a piece of paper - the same kind of paper that the old man in the alley often gave Lam. He opened the paper, revealing a simple silver ring with a delicate pattern engraved with the image of a small open book.

"I've been thinking a lot about the journey we've been through together," he said, his voice shaking slightly with emotion. "From the day you walked into my office with a trembling envelope of documents in your hand, until today, when we stand here, looking at justice being served, looking at this alley being saved, looking at an entire family being healed. I realized, I don't want this journey to end here. I want to continue to walk with you, in every other journey of life, not just the journey of finding the truth, but the journey of building a common life."

Lam stood still, her trembling hand raised to cover her mouth, tears began to roll down, her heart pounded as if it was about to burst out of her chest. "I..."

"Khuc Thanh Lam," Duy Khoi knelt down on one knee, in the middle of a small alley dyed yellow by the afternoon sunlight, in the presence of a few neighbors who happened to pass by, stopping to hold their breath and watch. "Do you agree to be my wife?"

Lam burst into tears, nodded repeatedly, speechless for a moment before finally blurting out an answer. "I agree. I agree!"

Duy Khoi stood up, put the ring on Lam's finger, then hugged her amidst the applause and joyful cheers of the neighbors who had gathered without realizing it, turning that private moment into a small celebration for the entire alley. Mrs. Nu, standing at the end of the alley, sobbed with emotion, constantly muttering "this day has finally come."

Mr. Vinh, who was informed by Lam right after when they both rushed back to the store, could not hide his joy, his eyes were radiant like he had never seen since the day the stroke struck. He reached for the notebook — even though it wasn't a particularly "good day" like the previous autumn morning, his voice was still broken as usual — wrote a short but meaningful line, and showed it to both of them.

"Grandpa. Probably. Is. Laughing."

Lam hugged his father, tears mixed with smiles. "That's what I think, Dad. I think he's smiling, not only for me, but for Mrs. Thuc Hien as well — because finally, the love in our family is allowed to fully bloom, no longer having to hide it, no longer having to be afraid."

News of the proposal spread around the alley as quickly as news of the previous conference event. Mrs. Nu, unable to contain her excitement, personally prepared a small tray to give as a gift, joking that she "made a match" for the two from the first day when she saw Duy Khoi sitting and drinking tea with Lam. The old man selling Do paper also stopped by and gave him a special stack of Do paper, instructing him to use it to make wedding invitations, saying that Do paper is durable and suitable for preserving important moments in life.

That evening, the whole family, along with Nha Ky who had just returned from the memorial space, gathered around the small dining table in the Vong Chu workshop, celebrating the good news in a cozy, simple but happy atmosphere. Nha Ky, upon hearing the news, hugged Lam, emotionally saying that she considered Lam a true sister, not only because of the fateful connection between the two families, but because of the sincere friendship that had blossomed throughout the past journey.

"You know," Nha Ky said, her voice filled with emotion, "I think if my aunt were still alive, she would be happy to see that my story, even though it was heartbreaking, was finally a bridge for such a beautiful love to flourish. Perhaps that was what she had wished for the most — that love and words, in the end, would no longer have to be hidden, no longer have to be sacrificed for each other."

Lam smiled, looking around the familiar small workshop — where she grew up, where she found the secret that changed her life, where now, a new chapter, full of hope, is beginning to be written. She looked at Duy Khoi, who was chatting happily with her father, and felt a completeness that she had never dared to dream of during the twenty-seven years of living a quiet, closed life behind the four walls of a bookstore.

She reached out touch the newly worn silver ring, her finger traced the engraving of a small open book, and suddenly realized that it was exactly the image she often imagined when starting a new restoration project - an open book, waiting to be read, understood, loved again. Perhaps, she thought, her life was like a book, there were torn, lost, hidden pages, but in the end she found someone patient enough to read it completely, to love it completely.

Outside the window, the first moonlight of the month began to appear in the clear autumn sky, shining soft rays of light down the alley filled with warm laughter, and Lam knew that even though the journey ahead was long and there were still many unknowns, she would never have to walk alone again.