Chapter 16 — Old Street Corner Gold Shop

Ten days have passed since receiving lawyer Khang's document, the financial situation of Tan Phat gold shop began to fall into a real crisis. This month's revenue decreased by more than half compared to the same period last year, while fixed costs - rent for a part of the extra space that the family still has to pay even though it is no longer in use, electricity and water bills, and money for imported gold materials - have not decreased at all.

On Monday morning, Vy sat and calculated the books with an increasingly tense face. She flipped through the pages, adding and subtracting the numbers, but no matter how she calculated and recalculated, the results were still not very positive. If this situation continues for another month or two, the salon will not be able to cover basic expenses, not to mention the bank loan she is waiting for approval.

"How much did you calculate?" Mr. Thinh asked, his voice filled with worry when he saw his daughter sitting quietly for a long time next to a stack of books.

"If this continues, I'm afraid the shop will only last about two more months, Dad," Vy replied, trying to keep her voice calm but unable to hide her anxiety. "I've cut every expense possible, but it's still not enough to make up for the lost revenue."

Mr. Thinh was silent, his face etched with the pain of a person who is witnessing his life's enthusiasm at risk of collapsing. "Or... should you try to consider another plan, like selling off part of the premises, or..." he hesitated, his voice choking, "...or temporarily closing the shop for a while, waiting for things to calm down?"

"I don't want to do that, dad," Vy said, her voice determined even though her heart was filled with confusion. "If the shop closes, even temporarily, I'm afraid there will be no chance of reopening. Customers will get used to not having my shop here, and Hao Kim will completely dominate the market. We have to find a way to survive, even if only with the temporary solutions in front of us."

While waiting, Vy decided to try a different direction to improve the immediate situation. She composed a short, sincere article and posted it on the shop's social network page, telling the story of the family heirloom jewelry profession, about the memorable restoration orders that the shop has made over the years, accompanied by a few close-up photos of the intricately carved details on the old items. She did not mention the dispute, did not make excuses, simply let the images and stories speak for themselves about the value of the work she was doing.

The article, beyond her expectations, received an unexpectedly positive reception. Many people left comments expressing admiration for the meticulous craftsmanship, some re-shared with messages of support for the traditional gold shop amid the wave of commercialization. Although it's not enough to completely turn around the sales situation, it gives Vy a precious sense of comfort — that there are still many people who appreciate the values that her family is trying to preserve.

While father and son were struggling to find direction, Khoi stopped by the store, carrying a stack of new documents and an expression that was both tired and a little hopeful. He took a few days off as promised, spending all his time scouring archives and contacting many different contacts.

"I have some bad news about the police file," he started, sitting down at the workbench, his voice somewhat low. "My friend there said that records of administrative violations and asset confiscation from 1979-1980 were largely destroyed according to archival regulations, only serious criminal cases were retained. Because your grandfather's case was not officially prosecuted in the end, there is a high possibility that the records no longer exist."

This news made Vy feel disappointed. "So we have no way to prove with official documents that the government confiscated the jewelry?"

"Not quite yet," Khoi replied, taking out another document, his eyes flashing with hope. "I found another source - the memoir of a former officer who worked in the economic inspection team at that time, published a few years ago by his son after his death. It mentioned, although not in too much detail, the widespread corruption in raids on private assets during that period, including the fact that some officers kept confiscated assets for themselves instead of submitting them properly. This is not direct evidence for my shop's case, but it is still there. trying to add credibility to Mr. Doan's story about there being corrupt officials during the inspection that night."

Vy took the document and skimmed through the passages marked by Khoi, feeling somewhat comforted even though this was not the decisive evidence she expected. "Thank you, although it's not perfect proof, at least it shows that my story is not baseless."

"I also contacted an antique jewelry appraisal expert, Mr. Dong, who used to work at the city's fine arts museum," Khoi continued, his voice brighter. "He agreed to look at the earring I found to determine the date and style of making, to see if it matched the mid-century period."

Three days later, Vy and Khoi brought the earring to meet Mr. Dong in a small room in the museum, where he worked with professional appraisal tools - a microscope, a small scale, and a thick set of reference documents on the history of Vietnamese jewelry making through the ages.

Mr. Dong, an older man with sharp eyes behind his glasses, picked up the earring and examined it carefully under a microscope in silence for nearly half an hour, occasionally jotting down a few lines in a separate notebook.

“This is a piece of jewelry of high artistic value,” he said at last, his voice filled with appreciation. "The technique of carving flower petals in a 'puncture' style combined with 'gold bean' — that is, welding tiny gold particles to create an edge shape — is a typical technique of Southern jewelers in the mid-twentieth century, especially popular in the wedding jewelry sets of well-off families. Judging by the natural wear and manufacturing techniques, I estimate this item is about fifty to sixty years old."

"So is it possible that it was made around the 1960s, right at the time when the Uong family may have ordered the wedding jewelry set?" Khoi asked, carefully recording every word Mr. Dong said.

"It's completely possible," Mr. Dong nodded. "If you have more detailed descriptions of the original jewelry set to compare the pattern style, I can make a more accurate assessment."

Vy felt a ray of hope growing in her heart. She took out a copy of the description in Mr. Chi Thanh's affidavit that lawyer Khang had given her, read aloud the description of the earrings - "carved in the shape of small flower petals, sophisticated yellow bean technique, passed down from her great-grandmother."

Teacher Dong compared carefully and nodded. "This description matches exactly what I observed on this earring. I can write an official appraisal, certified by the museum, if you need it as evidence."

That suggestion was like a breath of fresh air blowing into Vy's gradually dwindling hope. She thanked Mr. Dong profusely and promised to come back to receive the official evaluation in the next few days.

Before leaving the museum, Mr. Dong kept the earring for a while, admiring it with the passionate eyes of a person who has been attached to the traditional art of making all his life. "You know, items like this are very rare now," he said, his voice full of regret. "Today, people prefer machine-molded items that are fast, consistent, and cheap, but they lack the soul of the craftsman embedded in each line. If your shop can still keep this technique, I hope you will continue to pass it on to the next generation, don't let it disappear."

That message from Mr. Dong made Vy even more determined, not only because of the desire to resolve the dispute, but also because of a greater responsibility - preserving a professional heritage that is at risk of disappearing amid the wave of mass industrialization.

On the way home, even though the financial pressure was still heavy, even though the thirty-day deadline was still counting down the days, Vy felt much lighter than that morning - as if, after many days of groping in the dark, she had finally seen a real light leading the way ahead. She glanced at Khoi who was driving next to her, secretly grateful for his perseverance and dedication throughout this arduous journey, a companionship that was increasingly difficult for her to imagine without.