Chapter 14 — Pottery Kiln Fire Keeper

The people's meeting convened by Mr. Hua Dinh Toai took place at the commune's cultural house on a weekend evening, attracting almost all households still attached to pottery in the village, along with many other households interested in the issue of riverside clay exploitation. The atmosphere in the small hall was filled with people, the creaking sound of the ceiling fan mixed with the buzz of chatter before the meeting officially began.

— Everyone, be quiet, let's begin, — Mr. Toai spoke up, tapping the old microphone lightly. — Today I invited everyone to discuss two things: the first is the article saying wood stoves cause pollution, the second is the Tan Tho company applying for a license to exploit industrial clay in the river above.

He presented the collected data, clearly contrasting the emissions of a wood stove that operates several times a year with the continuous emissions from Tan Tho's industrial plant, causing many people in the hall to nod in agreement, and the initial atmosphere of confusion gradually subsided.

— As for the application for a license to exploit clay, — Mr. Toai continued, his tone more serious, — if approved, not only will Ms. Khe's house be affected, but all households living along that river will also be affected, from the risk of landslides to the loss of water for irrigation of crops.

A middle-aged man stood up, his voice annoyed.

— So what should I do now? Their company has money and connections, I'm just a commoner, so why bother?

— We have the right to send a collective petition, — Mr. Toai explained. — According to regulations, the licensing of exploitation must go through a period of consultation with affected communities. If the majority of people object and have valid grounds, it will be difficult for the application to be approved, at least the scope of exploitation must be adjusted.

Van Khe stood up. Even though she was still nervous in front of the crowd, she still tried to speak clearly.

— I want to say more, — she began, her voice shaking slightly but gradually becoming steadier. — That clay area is not only important to my family, but is also a common source of raw materials that from past to present, any household in the village who wants to make handmade pottery can go get it, without losing money, without asking anyone's permission. If the company monopolizes this area, not only will Vong Nguyet kiln face difficulties, but also related side jobs such as making handmade bricks and making jars of several other households in the village will also lose their source of livelihood.

Her statement received agreement from many people, especially households that still do side jobs related to clay but had never spoken up before because they thought they were not directly involved. The meeting lasted more than two hours, and finally came to a decision: all households present would sign a petition opposing the granting of industrial exploitation licenses and send it to the district level.

*

After the meeting, when everyone had left, Khang stayed behind to help Van Khe clean up the tables and chairs with Mr. Toai. While resting, he received a text message that made his face suddenly change color.

- What's up? — Van Khe asked, noticing the change in his facial expression.

— My father sent me a message, he knows about the petition, — Khang replied, his voice low. — He said, if the petition is successful, he will sue the village for "obstructing legitimate business operations." He also added, this is the last time he will consider me a son, if I don't stop.

Van Khe felt a heavy worry rising. She looked at Khang, clearly seeing the conflict in his eyes — between father-son love and between what he believed was right.

— Do you regret it? — she asked softly, not daring to look him straight in the eyes.

Khang shook his head, but this time, there was a bit of fatigue evident in his voice.

— I don't regret what I did, — he said. — But I admit, I'm heartbroken. Even though my father has many things I don't agree with, he is still my father, the one who raised me, sent me to study abroad, and gave me all the best conditions. Now, I feel like I'm betraying him, even though in my heart I know I'm doing the right thing.

Mr. Toai, standing nearby, heard the story, slowly speaking, his voice experienced.

— Khang, I have lived through many ups and downs in this village, witnessing many families divided because of different views. I think, doing the right thing doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Sometimes, real love is daring to face disagreements, instead of silently following along to maintain fake peace. Your father will understand, it just needs more time.

Mr. Toai's advice somewhat comforted Khang, but the burden in his heart could not be completely relieved.

*

That night, when returning to the factory, Van Khe found Khang sitting alone on the riverbank, his eyes thoughtfully looking at the water flowing lazily under the light of the crescent moon. She quietly sat down next to him, saying nothing, simply being present, letting him know he was not alone.

— Thank you, — Khang said after a moment of silence, his voice softer. — Thank you for being here, for giving me a place to belong, even when my family rejected me.

— I always have a place here, — Van Khe replied, her voice sincere. — Not just because of the batch, not just because of the glaze recipe, but because... because I really appreciate you, Khang.

This was the first time she spoke out her true feelings so clearly, no longer shy, no longer hiding. Khang turned to look at her, the moonlight reflected strangely warm rays of light in his eyes.

— Van Khe, — he called her name, his voice deep and warm, — I think, no matter how chaotic everything around me is, when I'm with you, I feel like everything has meaning. I don't know if this is the right time, but I don't want to wait any longer to tell you that I've loved you, maybe since the first night we watched the fire together.

Van Khe felt like her heart was about to burst. She looked at Khang, emotional tears rolling down her cheeks, then nodded slightly, without needing another word. Khang reached out and gently wiped away the tears on her cheeks, then slowly bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips under the moonlight, amid the sound of Boi Giang River's constant gurgling water, as a silent testimony to a love that had grown silently through many difficult days of keeping the fire alive together.

When the kiss ended, the two sat leaning against each other, not saying another word, just quietly enjoying the rare peace amid these turbulent days. The night wind blew gently through the bamboo groves, carrying the characteristic smell of young mud from the river, mixed with the lingering smell of wood smoke from the Vong Nguyet furnace, creating a flavor that only Doi Sanh village had, a flavor that Van Khe suddenly realized, she would never be able to find anywhere else in the world.

— Are you scared, — Khang asked quietly after a moment of silence, — knowing that you're in love with someone whose biological father is trying to destroy your own family?

Van Khe thought for a moment, her eyes following the shimmering moonlight reflecting on the river surface, before answering, her voice sincere.

— I'm scared, — she admitted. — Afraid that this feeling will make things more complicated, afraid that if one day we have to choose, we will be heartbroken. But I think, if I don't dare to step forward because of fear, then perhaps I have lost something precious that not everyone is lucky to find.

— I think so too, — Khang replied, squeezing her hand tighter. — Perhaps fate has arranged for us to meet, right at a time when both families need someone who dares to step over old boundaries to mend everything. I believe, if we persevere in the right direction, both our love story and the story of Vong Nguyet furnace, there will eventually be a good ending, even though the road ahead may be longer and more bumpy than either of us ever imagined.

They sat together until late at night, no one said anything more about Tan Tho company, about the petition, or about Mr. Nguyen's anger. Only the sound of flowing river water, the sound of night insects, and the mingled heartbeats of two people had just officially confirmed a love that had quietly blossomed over the weeks of keeping the fire together, a love that both of them knew would still have to go through many challenges before it could fully bear fruit, but at least, from tonight, neither of them would have to shoulder that worry alone anymore.