Chapter 27 — Old Painting Restoration Workshop

One month after the announcement of the official conclusion, the Bach Nien workshop has completely changed its appearance, although it still retains its original rustic and cozy look. Mien Thu stood in the middle of the workshop one morning, looking around with a satisfaction she had never had since her grandfather's death - a corner of the room had just been renovated to accommodate an additional desk, the specialized microscope she had long wanted was now there, shining on the shelf, and on the wall, next to her grandfather's old photo, now hung a certificate from the appraisal council, recognizing the workshop's contribution in shedding light on an important chapter of Vietnamese art history.

"Miss Thu, we have a guest!" Thuy Chi called out from the door, her voice filled with excitement as usual in recent days, when the number of customers coming to the workshop increased significantly.

Today's guest is a representative of a newly established private museum, bringing with him an ancient portrait that needs restoration, and during the conversation, did not hesitate to express his admiration for the way the Bach Nien workshop handled the "Vong Nguyet" incident with all integrity and empathy.

"We come to the factory not only because of your skills, but because we trust the way you work." The representative said, his eyes full of respect. "In a time when many places only focus on pursuing profits, it is rare to find a unit that still maintains absolute honesty in its profession."

After the guest left, Mien Thu sat down, looked at the stack of new contracts waiting to be signed, and felt both pride and heavy responsibility. Bach Nien Workshop, from a small establishment struggling to survive, has now become a name mentioned with respect in the entire world of art heritage preservation.

Mr. Le, who now spends more time at the factory, not only for work but also for the joy of witnessing the revival of the place he has spent his whole life, sat down next to her, his eyes full of thought. "Miss Thu, I think it's time for us to do something bigger, to commemorate Mr. Bach Nien and the famous artist Tu Binh Son in a worthy way."

"What are you thinking about?" Mien Thu asked, curious.

"A formal apprenticeship program." Mr. Le replied, his voice becoming more animated. "Not only accepting one or two students as currently, but organizing a systematic training program, inviting good artisans in the industry to teach, creating opportunities for young people who are passionate about the restoration profession but do not have the conditions to access in-depth knowledge. Naming the program after both teachers and students, is a way to preserve their legacy not only in books, but in the hands that continue."

Mien Thu sat quietly for a moment, letting that idea sink deep into her heart. That was exactly what she had dreamed of for a long time but never dared to think about the possibility of doing it, when the factory was still struggling to survive.

"I think that's a great idea, grandpa." She said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "But we will need more resources, more space, more support from many sides."

“About that,” a familiar voice rang out from the workshop door, “I think I can help.”

Mien Thu looked up and was surprised to see Chau Vinh Thinh standing there. This time, he no longer had the threatening authority as before, but carried a new humility. He walked in, looked around the workshop with eyes full of respect, different from the first time he came here.

"Mr. Chau, please sit down." Mien Thu said, still a bit surprised by this unexpected appearance.

"I just overheard your conversation about the apprenticeship program." He said, sitting down on the offered chair. "The preservation fund named after the two artists that I proposed to establish could, I think, be used for exactly this purpose. Not only to fund research projects, but also to invest directly in the training of the next generation of restoration artists."

"That's a very generous offer, sir." Nguyen Vu, who had just entered the workshop at the right time, spoke up. His eyes were still a bit cautious when looking at Chau Vinh Thinh, although there was no longer the hostility like before.

"I think this is the right thing to do." Chau Vinh Thinh replied, his voice sincere. "I spent many nights thinking about everything that happened, about my father, about how I treated Ms. Mien Thu and the Bach Nien workshop. I realized that true legacy does not lie in owning expensive works, but in preserving and passing on knowledge, skills, and moral values to the next generation."

The conversation lasted until late afternoon, when they together sketched the first outlines for the apprenticeship program called "Tu Binh Son — To Bach Nien", expected to open the first course early next year, with the cooperation between Bach Nien workshop, Hong Lam Fine Arts Museum, and the newly established conservation fund from Tinh Hoa Auction House.

When Chau Vinh Thinh left, Mien Thu stood and watched his shadow disappear into Hang But alley, her heart filled with an indescribable magical feeling - the feeling of witnessing a story that once began with confrontation and threat, now ending with cooperation and healing.

"Grandpa probably couldn't have imagined things would turn out this way." She said to Nguyen Vu, as the two stood together looking out at the alley that was gradually sinking into the sunset.

"Perhaps," Nguyen Vu replied, wrapping his arms around her, "that is the most beautiful thing that the truth, when told with enough empathy, can bring—not just exoneration, but healing to all those who have been hurt by the secrets of the past."

In the following days, news about the new apprenticeship program spread quickly in the art world, attracting the attention of many young people who are passionate about the restoration profession but have never had the opportunity to access formal training. Thuy Chi, who has been quietly studying under Mien Thu for the past two years, was asked to become the first teaching assistant of the program, an honor that made her so emotional that she burst into tears.

"I don't think I'm ready to teach others." Thuy Chi said, her voice still hesitant when Mien Thu announced that decision.

"You're more ready than you think." Mien Thu replied, smiling at the student who had gone through many ups and downs with her. "I remember the first day you came to the workshop, you still didn't know how to hold a brush properly. Looking at you now, I see the image of myself in the past, when my grandfather started teaching me. That's when I knew, you were ready to continue."

Ms. Kim, as director of the museum, is also actively involved in building the curriculum, connecting the Bach Nien workshop with a network of domestic and foreign conservation experts who are willing to come and share their expertise with the new generation of students. Thanks to that support, the program quickly shaped a systematic training framework, combining modern conservation theory and traditional craft techniques that Bach Nien workshop has preserved for the past sixty years.

Duong Chi Cuong, who publicly criticized the factory's capabilities on art forums, also quietly sent an apology email to Mien Thu, admitting that he had acted inconsiderately when he was carried away by pressure from Tinh Hoa before. Mien Thu read that email, didn't hold any resentment in her heart, simply replied with a short, sincere sentence: "Thank you for your courage to admit it. We all learn something from this story."

Life at the Bach Nien workshop, although much busier than before, took on a new peaceful rhythm — no longer the constant anxiety of keeping secrets, no longer the tension of confrontations, but instead the joy of building, of passing on knowledge, of seeing a family legacy revived stronger than ever.

On a weekend afternoon, when the factory was empty, Mien Thu sat alone at her desk, flipping through her grandfather's old recipe notebook, where she found the first clue to this whole journey. She opened it to the page with the shaky words from the past — "Remember: never use this type of brew for any other project than this one" — and for the first time, she read it again not with fear or doubt, but with complete understanding and deep gratitude.

She took a pen and wrote a small line in the margin of the page, like a timeless dialogue with her deceased grandfather: "I understand, grandfather. And I'm proud of you, more than ever." Then she closed the notebook, put it in a new wooden box, and placed it solemnly next to the most precious memorabilia of the workshop, for future generations of students, as a living proof that sometimes, the most honest path is not the easiest path, but is always the path worth following.