Chapter 30 — Old Painting Restoration Workshop

Six months later, the Bach Nien workshop welcomed a fresh early spring morning, when the first rays of sunlight streamed through the familiar north-facing window, dyeing the entire working space yellow, which had been expanded nearly twice as much as before. Mien Thu stands in the middle of the workshop, no longer a lone girl carrying a family legacy on her shoulders like a year ago, but the head of a restoration workshop that is reviving strongly, with five young students passionately practicing under the guidance of Thuy Chi, who has now become a confident and skillful teaching assistant.

"Miss Thu, I tested this new type of varnish. Can you help me take a look?" A young student, just a few months into the school, timidly brought up a piece of fabric to test.

Mien Thu took it, examined it carefully under natural light, and nodded with satisfaction. "Very good. Remember the most basic rule — always test on the hidden part first, never rush to apply it to the main part of the work."

Those were the words her grandfather had taught her since she was a child barely standing on the edge of the desk, and now, she was passing them on to a new generation, closing the circle of inheritance that the Bach Nien workshop had maintained for the past sixty years.

On the wall, the black and white photo of Mr. To Bach Nien still hangs in the same solemn position as before, but is now placed next to a new photo - a photo of Tu Binh Son in his youth, given to the workshop by Ms. Dieu Lan as an official way to connect two stories, two destinies that have been intertwined for more than six decades.

Nguyen Vu entered the workshop, carrying a stack of new documents — records of "The Year-End Market", the second painting in the series of works they had verified, which was now also in the process of being officially re-registered and scheduled for full restoration, with Bach Nien workshop once again entrusted with the responsibility.

"The Provincial Museum has just sent the official contract." He said, placing the documents on the table, a bright smile on his face. "They want their workshop to undertake the entire restoration process, which is expected to begin next month."

"Another story comes to light." Mien Thu said, smiling at him, the engagement ring sparkling on her finger in the morning sunlight. Their wedding is set for this fall, a small, cozy event, held right in the backyard of Bach Nien factory, where the two wrote their love story together amid challenging days.

That morning, before starting class, Mien Thu gathered the students, introduced them to the history of the workshop, the story behind the photo hanging on the wall, and the true meaning of the work they were pursuing. "The profession of restoration," she said, her voice ringing with confidence in front of the young faces who were listening attentively, "is not just about technique, not just about skillful hands. It is about the responsibility to preserve the truth, even though that truth is sometimes complicated, sometimes heartbreaking. You will learn a lot about solvents, about color, about light. But the most important thing I want you to take with you is absolute honesty with what you are touching."

One of the practitioners, a young girl in her early twenties, raised her hand and asked. "Miss Thu, have you ever regretted publishing the truth about the 'Vong Nguyet' painting? Anyway, it also caused your family to face a lot of risks."

Mien Thu thought for a moment before answering, her eyes looked out the window where the sunlight was filtering through the leaves of the old tree in front of the workshop. "Not a jot." She replied, her voice firm. "Because I realized, the truth, no matter how difficult it is to face, always carries with it a greater healing power than any silence can bring. My grandfather lived his whole life with a heavy secret. I don't want to live like that, and I don't want my children to learn how to live like that in their profession."

At noon, Mien Thu spent time sitting alone at her desk, pulling out a wooden box containing her grandfather's old notebook from the drawer - a place she often turns over when she needs to find a little peace of mind amid the chaos of work. She opened the page with the words she had added in the margin, reread her promise to him, and felt a deep peace spreading in her heart.

She looked out the window, where the afternoon sunlight shone down on Hang But alley, brightening up the mossy tiled roofs that had witnessed many generations pass by. She thought about the past journey — about the initial fear when discovering the secret under the old varnish, about the sleepless nights rereading the diary, about the tense confrontation with Chau Vinh Thinh, about the moment she stood on the podium trembling but determined. Every step along that path, no matter how difficult, led her to exactly where she needed to go — not only the truth about her grandfather, but also love, a new family, and a purpose in life more fulfilling than ever.

During lunch break, Mr. Le stopped by the factory as usual, brought a bag of hot rolls, and sat down to chat with her as he had done for many years. "Miss Thu, looking at this crowded workshop, I thought I was back in the days when Mr. Bach Nien was young, when the workshop first opened, students were coming in and out in droves." He said, his eyes shining with warm nostalgia.

"I hope I'm doing exactly what you used to do, Mr. Le." Mien Thu replied, smiling at him.

"You do more than that." Mr. Le shook his head, his voice was warm. "Mrs. Bach Nien built the workshop in the darkness of a secret. She built it in the light of truth. That is a huge difference, although not everyone may realize it."

Those words made Mien Thu silent for a moment, deeply feeling the meaning of what she had been doing. She looked around the factory, looked at the young faces diligently learning their craft, looked at the sunlight shining on every small, familiar corner, and felt her heart filled with a quiet but solid pride.

In the afternoon, Mien Thu received a video call from her mother in Hai Phong, announcing that she would go to Hanoi earlier than expected to help prepare for the wedding. Ms. Than Bich Hanh's voice was cheerful, filled with the excitement of a mother preparing to witness her daughter enter a new chapter in life. That short but warm conversation made Mien Thu feel that all the pieces of her life, once separated by geographical distance and pain and loss, were now gradually being reconnected, more complete than ever.

Late afternoon, when the sunlight begins to turn a warm orange-yellow color, Mien Thu stands in front of a new painting on a stand - another work waiting to be restored, carrying its own stories that she will gradually discover through each layer of color, each brush stroke. She put on an apron, picked up the small paintbrush her grandfather had given her years ago, and took a deep breath of the familiar smell of linseed oil and pine varnish — the smell of home, the smell of heritage, the smell of a journey that never really ends.

Nguyen Vu came to stand next to her, naturally put his arm around her shoulder, and they both looked at the new painting in the late afternoon light filtering through the north-facing window.

"What do you think this painting is hiding?" He asked, his voice filled with familiar affection.

Mien Thu smiled, her eyes shone with an undying passion for the career that had chosen her since she was a child. "I don't know. But I'm willing to find out, whatever it is."

She lightly dipped the tip of the brush into the solvent, starting a new job with the same meticulousness and respect as always — not to erase what time has left behind, but to clarify them, so that each story hidden under the dust of years has a chance to be told, understood, and healed.

Outside the window, the new moonlight at the beginning of the month has begun to shine through the pale evening sky, signaling the coming of a new moonlight night - no longer the moonlight of secrets and pain like in the old "Vong Nguyet", but the moonlight of hope, of continuity, of a small restoration workshop in the heart of Hanoi, where light always finds a way to penetrate the dust of time to illuminate the most beautiful, truest, remaining things.

Mien Thu put down the paintbrush for a moment, looked up at the new moon through the window, then turned to look at Nguyen Vu, at the Bach Nien workshop bustling with the laughter of young students, at the long journey that had taken her from a girl with fear about her family's past, to a woman proud to continue and expand that legacy. She smiled, fully feeling the meaning of each present moment, knowing that although the journey ahead was still long, she had found her own guiding light - a light that did not come from erasing the past, but from learning to love it, fully and sincerely, as the restoration work that she had devoted her whole life to pursuing.