Chapter 12 — Pottery Kiln Fire Keeper

Two weeks after that tense confrontation, Van Khe received news from Mrs. Tu that shocked her: Tan Tho company silently contacted her, offering a price three times higher than the market price to buy the entire garden with ancient sycamore trees, with the condition that all of them must be cut down within a week to make way for the expansion of the raw material gathering yard.

— I'm sorry, Khe, — Mrs. Tu said over the phone, her voice trembling with guilt. — She tried to delay, but her son in the city heard that the price was too high and kept urging her to sign the contract. She's old and can't argue with her children.

Van Khe put down the phone, her heart heavy. She understood that this was not a coincidence - Mr. Nguyen, even though he was in the "thinking" stage about the newly revealed truth, still did not give up putting pressure on her family with sophisticated economic moves. If the ancient sycamore tree is cut down, the source of raw materials for the signature ash glaze — the closest yeast to the legendary Nguyet Bach yeast recipe — will disappear forever.

She immediately went to Khang and told the whole incident. After listening, his face darkened.

— I'll talk to father, — he said, his voice resolute.

— Is it helpful? — Van Khe asked, unable to hide her skepticism. — He's still angry and hurt. Talking now will probably only make things worse.

— I have to try, — Khang replied. — I cannot stand by and watch my father continue to do things that I know will definitely make him regret it later.

*

The conversation between Khang and his father took place in Mr. Nguyen's private office at Tan Tho company headquarters — a modern building, shiny glass and steel, in stark contrast to the rustic setting of Vong Nguyet furnace. Khang told Van Khe later, his voice still filled with frustration.

— My father said frankly, he doesn't care about the right or wrong of the past anymore, — Khang recounted, sitting on the banks of the Boi Giang River, where the two of them often came to chat when they needed to relieve tension. — He said, no matter what the truth was, he had invested too much money and effort into the expansion plan to stop midway just because of an emotional story. He also said that if I continue to side with your family, he will reconsider letting me inherit the company.

Van Khe looked at Khang, filled with guilt.

— Don't lose your relationship with your father because of your child, — she said, her voice choking. — I don't want you to have to choose between your family and—

— I didn't choose for you, — Khang interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. — I choose for myself, for what I believe is right. You're not the only reason, even though you... even though you're a very important part of that decision.

The two were silent for a while, with only the sound of the river flowing gently as the background for emotions that had not yet been fully put into words.

*

Not only stopping at causing economic pressure, a few days later, an article appeared on a local news site with a sensational title: "Wood ceramic kilns cause serious air pollution — Need to convert to clean technology soon." The article cited figures on emissions and fine dust from burning wood, comparing it unfavorably with modern gas furnace technology. Although it did not mention Vong Nguyet furnace by name, everyone in the village clearly understood the target audience.

The news spread quickly in the village, causing some already wavering households to become even more confused. Some neighbors began to look at Van Khe with shy eyes, some even blamed her for "stubbornly keeping her old job and affecting the health of the whole neighborhood".

— Ms. Khe, I saw that in the village chat group, some people were talking a lot, — Khac Ben reported, looking worried. — Some people even petitioned the commune to limit the time the furnace was burned.

Van Khe feels pressure from all sides — not only from Tan Tho company, but now also from the neighbors she grew up with. She went to Mr. Hua Dinh Toai for help, and the village chief reassured her with real data.

— Don't worry, I've already checked, — Mr. Toai said, giving a report. — The amount of emissions from a wood stove that operates several times a year cannot be compared to an industrial plant that operates twenty-four hours continuously like in Tan Tho. That article was clearly intentional, the data was distorted to favor one side. He will work with the editorial office to request corrections, and at the same time prepare a public meeting to explain clearly to people.

Mr. Toai's support somewhat reassured Van Khe, but she still couldn't help but worry about the fact that Tan Tho company seemed to be preparing a methodical campaign to isolate Vong Nguyet kiln from community support, separating her from the very people who could be the most important allies in the fight to preserve this traditional craft.

*

That night, Van Khe sat alone by the furnace. Even though there was no firing going on, she often came here when she needed to calm down and think. The moonlight shines down on the silent gourd tree, creating a quiet scene but also full of the weight of history.

She took out her grandfather's diary, turned over the last pages that she had read many times, trying to find more clues about the unfinished Nguyet Bach yeast recipe. Between the lines about ash ratio and firing temperature, she suddenly noticed a detail that she had overlooked before - a small note in the margin of the page, the handwriting was fainter than the main text, seemingly added later: "If one day your descendants find this page, please remember, the most beautiful enamel is not the enamel with perfect proportions, but the enamel fired with a heart of reconciliation, not with revenge or proving who is right and who is wrong."

That line was like a message from his grandfather through time, making Van Khe unable to help but shed tears. She realized that the fight to keep the furnace was not only a fight against the Tan Tho company, but also a journey to fulfill her grandfather's unfinished wish - to heal a wound that had lasted too long, so that the fire of the Vong Nguyet furnace would not only melt the clay, but also melt the hatred that had been frozen for thirty-five years.

Familiar footsteps sounded behind her, causing her to turn around. Khang stood there, carrying a flashlight, perhaps predicting that she would come out here after a stormy day.

— I think you need someone to talk to, — he said, sitting down next to her on the familiar stone.

Van Khe showed him the words on the margin of the notebook page, and Khang read it over and over again, his eyes gradually changing from curiosity to deep emotion.

— Your grandfather is truly an extraordinary person, — he said softly. — He was thinking about reconciliation long before any of us were born to understand what had happened.

— I keep thinking, — Van Khe said, her voice thoughtful, — I don't know if I have the strength to do what you want. Now it's not just about two families anymore, it's also about the whole village, about public opinion, about defamatory articles. I feel like I'm fighting on too many fronts at the same time.

Khang held her hand, his eyes were sincere in the moonlight.

— You don't have to fight alone, — he said. — I know my father is making things difficult, but I will find a way to convince him, no matter how long it takes. As for Mrs. Tu's sycamore tree, let me try contacting a few acquaintances in the design industry, maybe there is a way to help Mrs. Tu earn an income and keep at least part of the garden.

- How? — Van Khe asked, her eyes flashing with hope.

— I have seen a few projects to preserve ancient trees combined with eco-tourism in Japan, — Khang explained, his voice gradually becoming more excited. — If I can convince Mrs. Tu to keep the garden and turn it into a stop for visitors to the craft village, combined with selling the ash to pottery kilns in the area, maybe the long-term value will be even higher than the one-time sale of the land to Tan Tho.

Van Khe looked at him, feeling warm at his endless devotion to an issue that was not his responsibility alone. She nodded, held Khang's hand tightly in response. They both looked towards the silent gourd tree under the moonlight, as if they were drawing a path forward together, although there were still many thorns, but they were no longer alone like before, although the road ahead must still be very long.