Chapter 7 — Old Street Corner Gold Shop

On the weekend, Vy spent the entire morning completing the final stages of Ky Thi Doan's ring before bringing it to visit her house as scheduled with Khoi. She sat at the workbench early in the morning, when the sunlight was not yet strong, performing the final polishing step - seemingly the simplest step in the entire restoration process but requiring no less patience.

She used a strip of soft felt cloth to wrap around the tip of a small wooden stick, dabbed a bit of specialized polishing powder, then meticulously rubbed every millimeter on the ring's surface in an even circular motion, avoiding further erosion of the original engravings, which were already fragile over the years. This is one of the most difficult techniques that my grandfather ever passed down - knowing when to stop, not over-polishing to the point of flattening out the delicate details that are the soul of the antique.

"It's easy to polish new things, just rub them until they shine," he had told her when she was seventeen years old, the first time she was given an antique to restore. "But when polishing old things, you must know how to respect the traces left by time. There are small scratches and worn places, which are part of the story of that item. By polishing too much, you are erasing history, not beautifying it."

Vy worked slowly according to that principle, occasionally stopping, holding the ring up to the light to examine and compare it with the image she imagined of its original appearance when it was first crafted nearly fifty years ago. By noon, the ring was complete — the emerald was securely attached again, the engravings around the edge were cleaned but still retained their natural wear, the golden light was soft, not dazzling like new.

She put the ring in a small velvet box, changed her work clothes to a more casual shirt, and told Thanh Tra to look after the shop in the afternoon before setting off to Mr. Doan's house at the address Khoi sent.

On the way to Mr. Doan's house, Vy walked slowly through the small alleys behind Ngan Lu street, a place she rarely had a chance to visit because her work often kept her at the workbench all day. The old houses here largely retain the same architecture from decades ago - mossy tiled roofs, peeling wooden doors, walls stained with traces of time. She wondered, among hundreds of houses like that, how many stories similar to her family's were silently sleeping, waiting for some chance to be awakened. The feeling of nervousness mixed with anxiety kept rising in her heart all the way, making each step seem slower than usual.

Mr. Doan's house is located in a quiet small alley not far from Ngan Lu street, an old but neat four-level house, with a few pots of orchids and a star fruit tree planted in the front yard that has grown tall over the years. Khoi went to the gate to welcome her, leading her into the house, where Mr. Doan was sitting in an old armchair next to the window, with a small figure, white hair tied in a bun, and eyes that were blurred with age but still sparkled with intelligence when he saw guests arriving.

"Is this Mr. Phat's niece?" Mr. Doan asked, his voice shaking due to old age but still clear, his hand reaching out to hold Vy's hand intimately as if he had known her for a long time.

"Yes, I am Thuc Vy, grandson of Mr. Khuong Tan Phat," Vy replied, sitting down on the wooden chair Khoi pulled closer, gently placing the velvet box containing the completed ring on the table.

Mr. Doan opened the box, picked up the ring with trembling hands, looked at it for a long time, his eyes gradually filled with tears. "Just like old times," he whispered, his voice choked. "You're so good at what you do, just as good as your grandfather."

"You said you knew my grandfather since you were young?" Vy asked, trying to keep her voice gentle even though she was filled with excitement.

Mr. Doan nodded, his eyes distant as if he were lost in a very distant time. "Her house at that time was right near Ngan Lu street, just a few houses away from Mr. Phat's shop. She and he had been close since childhood, grew up together in the neighborhood, later when he opened a gold shop, she often stopped by to visit, sometimes helping him clean and arrange furniture." He stopped and gave a small, nostalgic smile. "He is a very good person, hardworking, honest. Everyone in the neighborhood loves him."

Vy listened attentively, but she also realized that Mr. Doan was telling very general things, not touching on what she really wanted to know. She hesitated for a moment, then decided to ask directly, even though she knew it might be a bit sudden.

"Grandma, I found an old diary of my grandfather, which mentioned a person named Mrs. Tuong, and something that happened in 1979. Do you know anything about this?"

Hearing that, Mr. Doan's face suddenly changed clearly - the nostalgic smile disappeared, replaced by a tense, cautious look appearing in his blurred eyes. He placed the ring on the table, clasped his hands together, and was silent for a long time before speaking.

"That... was a long time ago," he said, his voice slow and somewhat difficult. "She only vaguely remembers it, because she was young at the time, and it was a very chaotic night."

Khoi sat next to his grandmother, gently placing his hand on her shoulder as if to reassure her. "Just tell me slowly, there's no need to rush."

Mr. Doan took a deep breath, looking out at the front yard where the afternoon sunlight was fading. "She remembers that it was raining heavily that night, the whole neighborhood lost power. There was a rich family in the area, apparently the Uong family, came to find Mr. Phat very late at night. She was nearby so she heard a noise, looked out and saw them carrying a box of some kind, talking very urgently, everyone's voice shaking as if in panic."

Vy held her breath and listened, her heart beating faster when the name "Uong" was mentioned, matching what she read in her grandfather's diary.

"What happens after that, ma'am?" she asked softly.

Mr. Doan shook his head, looking confused. "She didn't know much about the details, because right after that there were car horns and people shouting loudly, it seemed like the police came to do a surprise household check. She was so scared that she ran home, closed the door and didn't dare look any further. The next morning, she heard people say that Mr. Phat was invited to work at the police station, and the Uong family disappeared from the neighborhood, no one knew where they went. A few weeks later, Mr. Phat also returned to the normal shop, but he was less talkative, no longer as happy as he was. before."

The story stopped there, leaving a heavy silence in the small room. Vy feels like she has just touched on an important piece of the puzzle, but the overall picture still has too many gaps that cannot be filled. She looked at Mr. Doan and saw that those old eyes now shone with a torment that was hard to name, as if he was also carrying something in his heart that had never been fully expressed.

"Do you know where the Uong family went? Or can any of them still be in contact?" Vy continued asking, trying to explore further.

"I don't know, dear," Mr. Doan replied, his voice a bit tired from having to reminisce about too many old things. "At that time, many families went away like that, some went to the new economy, some... went by other routes, no one dared to ask much, no one dared to tell much, for fear of getting involved. That's all she can remember."

Khoi looked at his grandmother and saw that she seemed tired after recounting the heavy memories. He gently asked Vy to pause the story and ask another time to ask more when she was better. Vy agreed and thanked Mr. Doan profusely before leaving.

Khoi sent her to the end of the alley, the two walked slowly side by side in the fading afternoon light. "I'm sorry my grandmother can't remember more," he said, sounding a little guilty. "She is old now, her memory is not as clear as before. There are many passages she probably deliberately does not want to repeat because she is afraid of telling the wrong story and upsetting others."

"It's okay, what you told me has helped me understand a lot," Vy replied, trying to smile even though her heart was still confused. "At least I now know a specific name — the Uong family — to start learning more."

Khoi pondered for a moment, then spoke, his voice full of thought. "If you don't mind, let me try to look it up for you. The bank I work for has stored some old records related to business households from the subsidy period. Maybe there are some clues about the Uong family in this area. I also know a few people who work at the local archives office, so I can ask more."

"You really don't mind doing that, do you?" Vy asked, unable to hide the gratitude in her voice.

"Don't mind," Khoi replied, his eyes looking at her sincerely. "To be honest, I'm just as curious as you. This story now concerns not only your family, but also my grandmother, a part of her youthful memories that I never knew about."

The two broke up at the alley, promising to contact again when they had more information. On the way home, Vy kept thinking about the unfinished story that Mr. Doan had just told, carrying valuable information and a new worry in her heart - if the Uong family really "disappeared" in that chaotic night, then who, and for what reason, is now coming to her gold shop after forty-five years of silence?