Chapter 25 — Old Painting Restoration Workshop

The opening ceremony ended much later than expected, not with the usual ceremonial wine toasts, but with small groups of guests still lingering, discussing and debating the story that had just been revealed. Journalists were busy quickly interviewing Mien Thu, Nguyen Vu, and even Ms. Dieu Lan, while the museum team tried to maintain order for the event.

Mien Thu, after answering a series of questions from the press, finally found a quiet corner in the side hall, where Nguyen Vu was waiting for her with two glasses of filtered water. She sat down on the chair, feeling exhausted as if she had just gone through a long battle.

"I did it." Nguyen Vu said, handing her the glass of water, his eyes filled with undisguised admiration and pride.

"We can do it." Mien Thu corrected, holding his hand. "I can't do this alone."

They sat quietly for a while, enjoying the rare moment of quiet after the recent storm. From afar, they could see Ms. Dieu Lan sitting on a chair, surrounded by Bao Tran and Mr. Le - who had been present since the beginning of the ceremony but stood quietly at the end of the hall, not wanting to distract attention - and her face radiated a relief that perhaps she had not felt in the past sixty years.

"Have you seen Chau Vinh Thinh?" Mien Thu asked, looking around the lobby.

"He left as soon as things calmed down a bit, along with Duong Chi Cuong." Nguyen Vu replied. "I'm not sure what he's thinking right now, but at least, he's no longer trying to completely deny the truth like he did in the beginning."

Mien Thu nodded, her heart was still filled with many emotions. Victory, if it could be called that, did not bring a feeling of complete joy as she had imagined, but a mixture of relief and fatigue, and a profound sadness when thinking about what her grandfather had to endure all his life because of one youthful decision.

"How do you think your grandfather would feel, if he could witness what just happened?" She asked, her voice low.

Nguyen Vu thought for a moment before answering, squeezing her hand tighter. "I think, most of all, he would feel liberated. Sixty years of carrying such a heavy secret must have worn away at him day by day, even though he never showed it to the outside. Today, his story is finally told as it was — not as a crime, but as an act of love and sacrifice."

Mrs. Kim came to them a short time later, her face clearly tired but also filled with a similar relief. "Mien Thu, you did something extraordinary tonight." She said, sitting down next to them. "I have never witnessed an event with such great emotional weight in my entire career."

"I'm sorry for making you face so many risks, Mr. Kim." Mien Thu said, her voice full of guilt.

"Don't apologize." Mrs. Kim shook her head and smiled slightly. "This is exactly the kind of risk worth taking in our profession. The museum will establish an independent appraisal panel next week, with the participation of reputable experts, to draw an official conclusion and propose the most equitable way to recognize the merits of both artists."

Mr. Le, after helping Ms. Dieu Lan sit down and rest comfortably, went to Mien Thu, his old eyes shining with an emotion that was hard to hide. "Miss Thu," he said, his voice trembling, "I stood there listening to everything, but I thought I was seeing old Bach Nien standing in front of me again. You are much braver than I thought."

"I learned it from my eldest grandfather, and from my grandfather as well." Mien Thu replied, holding Mr. Le's calloused hand, squeezing it gratefully. "Thank you for always being by my side, by my side, all these years."

Mr. Le nodded, couldn't say anything more, just patted her on the shoulder like a father would do with his daughter, then quietly retreated back, letting her have private space with Nguyen Vu and Mrs. Kim.

Thuy Chi, who was allowed by Mien Thu to take time off from tending the factory to attend the ceremony, ran to hug her, tears streaming down her youthful face. "Miss Thu, you did it! I'm so proud of you!"

Mien Thu hugged her young student, smiling through her own tears. "Thank you for always trusting me, even when I couldn't tell everything yet."

She took out her phone and immediately called her mother in Hai Phong, who knew a little about the investigation but did not fully grasp tonight's developments. Mrs. Than Bich Hanh's voice on the other end of the phone, when listening to her daughter tell everything, could not hide her emotions.

"I always believed your grandfather was a good person, even though I never knew the whole story." She said, her voice choked. "You have done something that perhaps even he did not dare to dream of - telling the truth without hurting anyone more, but also making everyone understand and appreciate him more."

"I miss you mom." Mien Thu said, her voice choked. "I'll come visit mom soon and tell her everything."

Hanging up the phone, she returned to Nguyen Vu and Mrs. Kim, her heart filled with a radiating warmth from all the people who had stood by her side - not only on this night, but throughout the long and arduous journey behind it.

While they were chatting, a message appeared on Mien Thu's phone — from an unfamiliar number. She opened it, read it, and felt her heart slow down slightly.

"Miss Mien Thu, I'm Chau Vinh Thinh. I need time to think about everything that happened tonight. But I want you to know, I won't hinder the museum's appraisal anymore. I also hope to have the opportunity to talk to you privately, when we are both calmer."

She showed the phone to Nguyen Vu, and the two exchanged looks full of surprise and hope.

“Perhaps,” Nguyen Vu said, his voice thoughtful, “this is the beginning of something better than we dared to hope—not just an acknowledged truth, but a true reconciliation between two families that have been bound together, in one way or another, for the past sixty years.”

That night, when returning to the workshop, Mien Thu stood silently in front of "Vong Nguyet" alone for a few minutes before Nguyen Vu came to her side. The painting, now, no longer carries any heavy secrets - only the pure beauty of moonlight, of the teacher-student relationship, of a story that has finally been told in its entirety.

"Thank you for trusting me enough to let me find this truth." She whispered, her eyes shining with tears of relief and gratitude. "I hope, now, you can rest in peace, grandpa."

Nguyen Vu wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder. They both stood silently looking at the painting under the soft yellow light of the workshop, while outside the window, the moonlight tonight was fuller and brighter than any night they had ever witnessed together.

"What do you think will happen next?" She asked softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I think, in the coming days there will be a lot of work to do — the appraisal council, press interviews, perhaps even the meeting with Chau Vinh Thinh that he just mentioned." Nguyen Vu replied, his voice was warm. "But I believe, the hardest part, the part that requires the most courage, is behind us. From now on, we just need to continue telling this story honestly, and let time do the rest."

Mien Thu turned around, looked straight into his eyes, a relieved smile appeared on her lips for the first time after many stressful weeks. "Whatever happens next, I know I didn't go through this night alone, and I won't go through whatever lies ahead alone."

"Never alone." He replied softly, bending down to gently kiss her forehead, a gesture filled with love and respect that the two of them had nurtured together throughout their recent challenging journey.

They stood there for a moment longer, in the warm silence of the Bach Nien workshop, which had witnessed generations of artisans plying on old paintings, and now, witnessed a new chapter begin — a chapter of truth liberated, of love nurtured, and of a family legacy returned to its true sacred meaning.

Before leaving the factory that night, Mien Thu stopped by the small altar placed in the corner of the room, where she still burns incense for her grandfather every death anniversary. She lit a stick of incense and stood still for a moment, letting the thin smoke rise into the quiet air of the night.

"I've done what you asked me to do, grandpa, even though you never said it out loud." She whispered, her voice as gentle as a lullaby. "I hope, now, both you and your teacher can rest in peace, knowing that your story has been told with all the respect it deserves."