Chapter 13 — Old Painting Restoration Workshop

The second time they returned to visit Ms. Dieu Lan, it was autumn, the trees along the suburban road began to turn pale yellow. She welcomed them with more composure than before, as if in the weeks of waiting she had had enough time to prepare herself for what was about to be told.

"I've been thinking a lot since you guys came here." She said, pouring tea for guests with her hands, which were less shaky than last time. "I realized that keeping silent forever is not the best way to protect my father's memory, or that of Bach Nien. Sometimes, it is that silence that makes the story most easily misinterpreted, if one day it is exposed in a way that no one can control."

Mien Thu showed her the scientific analysis results that Nguyen Vu had prepared, briefly explained about the age of the paint layer, and how the fake signature was determined to be made by a person with a deep understanding of Tu Binh Son's style. Ms. Dieu Lan looked through the charts and nodded. Although she clearly did not understand all the technical terms, she understood the core meaning behind them.

"So science has confirmed what I knew sixty years ago." She sighed. "Okay. I'll tell you everything, the part that I hid even from you guys the last time we met."

She put down the cup of tea, clasped her hands together in her lap, her eyes looking far away as if going back in time to the chaotic years of war.

"After Bach Nien completed the painting, he intended to hand it over to my family, as if he had fulfilled his promise to my father, with no other intention. He never thought of signing my father's name on it. That intention came from someone else." She paused, her voice growing heavier. "From Mr. Chau Boi Long."

Mien Thu and Nguyen Vu exchanged glances, both feeling that this was the important piece they were looking for.

"Mr. Chau at that time was a young art dealer who knew my father through several previous transactions. He knew that my family was in heavy debt due to medical expenses, and knew about the unpaid deposit to the customer who had ordered 'Vong Nguyet'. He came to me and offered to act as an intermediary to resolve that debt. In exchange, he wanted full authority to decide on bringing the painting - and possibly other unfinished works of my father - to market. school."

"He was the one who suggested signing a fake name?" Nguyen Vu asked, his voice serious.

Ms. Dieu Lan nodded, her eyes filled with tears. "He said, if the painting was sold as an 'unfinished, student-led work', its value would be much lower than if it were recognized as Tu Binh Son's complete original. He convinced Bach Nien that it was not a lie, but the only way to fully honor my father's talent, so that my family would have enough money to get through the most difficult period. Bach Nien objected strongly at first, he did not want to do it. that. But then..."

She stopped, tears began to roll down, her voice choked. "Then my mother fell seriously ill due to exhaustion and worries. One of my younger siblings had to drop out of school because they didn't have enough money to pay tuition. Bach Nien witnessed all of that. He came to see me one night, saying he would do what Mr. Chau wanted, not because he believed him, but because he couldn't bear to watch his beloved teacher's family collapse from poverty anymore."

Mien Thu felt a lump in her throat, imagining the young man Bach Nien standing at the crossroads of conscience and love, with no choice being completely right.

"He signed that autograph himself," Ms. Dieu Lan continued, her voice almost whispering, "on the last night before fighting for Mr. Chau. I stood next to him, witnessing his hand tremble with every stroke. After signing, he put down the pen, sat quietly for a long time, and then said to me a sentence that I remember to this day: 'I just betrayed the person I wanted to become, to save the family of the person I respected the most. I don't know if it was worth it or not. But I have no other choice.'"

The room was silent for a long time, only the sound of the wind blowing through the ten o'clock flower bushes in the yard, the sound of the wall clock ticking steadily as if counting the rhythm of the silent tears falling.

"What happens after that?" Mien Thu asked softly, her voice already wet with tears.

"Mr. Chau kept his promise and paid off all my family's debt." Ms. Dieu Lan said, her voice calmed down somewhat. "But he didn't stop there. He found three more of my father's unfinished paintings, convincing Bach Nien to complete them all, each time for the same reason — for my family, for my father's legacy. Bach Nien, although more and more tormented, continued to follow, because at that point, he felt he had no way back — if he stopped halfway, what he had done before would become meaningless, even dangerous if discovered."

"When will my grandfather stop?" Mien Thu asked, remembering the diary entry in 1964.

"After the fourth painting, he flatly refused when Mr. Chau wanted him to continue." Mrs. Dieu Lan replied. "He said, if he continued, he would no longer be able to see the line between remembering his deceased teacher and becoming a professional painting counterfeiter to serve the ambitions of others to get rich. He left the relationship with Mr. Chau from then on, taking with him a part of the divided money, which he used to open his own restoration workshop - the same Bach Nien workshop that I am maintaining today."

Mien Thu sat quietly, the final pieces of the story now fully fitting together in her mind. The Bach Nien Workshop — where she grew up, where she learned her trade, where she considered a symbol of integrity in the restoration profession — turned out to be built, in part, from the proceeds of the very act for which her grandfather had been tormented for the rest of his life.

"Does my grandfather ever regret opening a factory with that money?" She asked, her voice shaking.

Mrs. Dieu Lan looked at her with gentle eyes. "He spent the rest of his life working twice or three times more faithfully than others in his profession, as a way to atone for that mistake. Every painting he later restored, he did with absolute respect for the original, never adding or altering anything beyond the scope necessary to preserve it. I think, that was the way he forgave himself — not by forgetting, but by living a completely opposite life. with the mistakes of the past."

Mien Thu remembers every strict teaching of his grandfather, every principle he set for the workshop, every time he repeated that "restoration is not about making new, but about returning exactly what once was". Now, those words carry a much deeper meaning — not just a professional philosophy, but a lifelong self-reminder of someone who once strayed from that path, even just once, and spent the rest of his life trying to find his way back.

"Thank you," she said, her voice choked but filled with gratitude, "for telling me the truth, even though it wasn't easy for you."

Mrs. Dieu Lan held Mien Thu's hand, her warm old hands clasped her youthful hand. "You are someone who deserves to know the truth, my child. And I believe, with what I saw in you today, you will know how to tell this story in a way that will make both my father and Bach Nien feel at peace."

Nguyen Vu, who had been sitting quietly listening the whole time, asked more questions, his voice cautious. "Ms. Dieu Lan, do you know where the remaining three paintings - the works that Mr. Bach Nien completed before 'Vong Nguyet' - are currently? This is very important, because if we can identify them, we will have more evidence to compare, and can also avoid the fact that 'Vong Nguyet' alone is being dissected while the other works continue to be displayed as original without anyone knowing."

Ms. Dieu Lan pondered for a moment. "I only vaguely remember the name of one of them — a painting of a rural market scene, called 'The Year-End Market'. I heard that it was once displayed in a provincial museum, but I'm not sure whose current ownership it is. The other two paintings, of which I have had absolutely no information for decades, may have been sold to many different collectors, or lost, or even destroyed because they were not preserved properly."

"We will try to learn more about 'The Year-End Market'." Nguyen Vu took notes in his notebook. "If identified, it would be another important piece in the whole big picture of the truth."

Before leaving, Mien Thu held Ms. Dieu Lan's hand tightly again, feeling the trust and burden that she had just shared with her. "I will keep in touch with you. And I promise, no matter what happens next, I will always consider you part of my family, because your story and my story, now, are forever intertwined."

Mrs. Dieu Lan smiled, her old eyes sparkled with a rare warm light. "Thank you, Mien Thu. It's been a long time since I felt so relieved."