Chapter 23 — Pottery Kiln Fire Keeper

The opening day of the Doi Sanh village festival came on a rare clear blue sky morning, without a single cloud signaling bad omen. From early morning, the village communal house yard was bustling with the sounds of festival drums, flags and flowers were spread across the roads leading to the Thach family's pottery workshop, where the display area had been carefully completed over the past few days.

Van Khe, wearing a traditional Ba Ba shirt tailored specifically for the occasion, stood in front of the Vong Nguyet kiln, her hand trembling with a firestick, preparing to light the opening fire of the decisive firing batch in the presence of a large number of people, tourists, and the heritage survey team from the province's cultural department that had just arrived.

— You can do it, — Mr. Vong stood next to him, his voice full of pride, gently patting his daughter's shoulder to encourage her.

Van Khe took a deep breath, lit an incense stick to pray to the ancestors as usual, and then lit the fire in the first compartment in front of the bustling applause of the surrounding crowd. The fire ignited quickly and flared up brightly, marking the official start of the seven-day, seven-night journey that would decide the fate of the entire family, the entire craft village, and perhaps, the thirty-five-year long feud between the two clans.

The opening ceremony went smoothly, Ms. Thuy led the program to introduce the history of the craft village in a lively and engaging way, making many visitors and survey team members extremely impressed by the cultural depth and sophisticated techniques of traditional wood-fired pottery.

*

Near noon, when everything was going well, a familiar car suddenly appeared, parking right in front of the event area. Chiem Dac Nguyen stepped down, not wearing a neat suit as usual, but wearing a simple shirt. His face seemed different from the cold, authoritative image that everyone was used to seeing.

His appearance caused many attendees to whisper, and a few looked cautiously and warily towards him - the head of the company who had a reputation for causing trouble for Vong Nguyet furnace all the time.

Van Khe, who was busy supervising the fire watch, also received news of this unexpected appearance. She quickly ran out, filled with worry, not knowing what purpose Mr. Nguyen came here for - whether it was a final sabotage, or something else.

— Uncle Nguyen, — she spoke up, trying to keep her voice calm, — what are you doing here?

Mr. Nguyen looked at her, then looked around the display area, his eyes stopped for a long time at the corner displaying broken ceramic pieces from a failed firing batch, carefully reading the board that told the true story of her family's arduous journey.

— I came to see, — he said, his voice deeper than usual, — to see what value this thing that my father, and my son, and even you, believe so much that they are willing to risk everything, really has.

He walked slowly through each display room, stopping to admire each product and listen to the village artisans' explanations about the elaborate manufacturing process. Coming to the central display room, where some of the most beautiful works from previous firings were placed, he stopped for a long time in front of a vase with classic cracked enamel, his eyes flashed with a hard-to-conceal vibration.

— What kind of yeast is this? — he asked, his voice softening considerably.

— Traditional pine wood ash glaze, uncle, — Van Khe replied, her voice careful but unable to hide her pride. — Each crack on the surface is the result of the natural shrinkage process between the glaze and the ceramic core, no two products are completely identical.

Mr. Nguyen nodded, remained silent for a long moment, then turned to look at Van Khe, his eyes contained a complexity that she had never seen before — no longer the familiar coldness and wariness, but something almost a reluctant respect.

— You know, — he said, his voice thoughtful, — in the old days, before everything happened, my father and your grandfather Tuyen dreamed of building a common ceramic brand together, combining traditional sophistication and the ability to reach a wider market. That dream died with Uncle Tan, along with their friendship. I never thought, after thirty-five years, I would be standing here, seeing a small part of that dream revived, even though not in the way I had imagined.

*

The conversation was interrupted when Khang ran over, his face full of surprise when he saw his father appear at the event.

— Father, — he called, his voice still a bit wary.

— Duy Khang, — Mr. Nguyen replied, his eyes looking at his son with a rare gentleness. — I came to see what path you have chosen. And I have to admit, you made the right choice.

That sentence made Khang stunned for a moment, not believing his ears. This was the first time, after many months of intense conflict, his father openly admitted that the path he chose - the path of standing towards the Vong Nguyet furnace, towards Van Khe - was the right choice.

— Dad, do you really think so? — Khang asked, his voice still skeptical.

— I've been thinking a lot since the night my father told me the truth, — Mr. Nguyen replied, his voice low, carrying a deep sadness. — I realized, I spent my whole life running away from a pain that didn't really belong to me, and in the process, I became someone I no longer recognized. You were much braver than me, when you dared to face the truth, dared to stand for what you believed was right, even at the cost of your relationship with your own father.

Van Khe stood silently looking at that scene, her heart filled with a strong hope. She realized that, although the road ahead still had many challenges — the firing was still going on, the outcome was still a mystery — at least one of the biggest, most difficult to overcome, barriers seemed to be starting to melt, just like how the fire in the kiln was gradually transforming rough blocks of clay into ceramic works full of soul and story.

*

In the afternoon, Mr. Nguyen stayed in the workshop longer than expected, even sitting down to chat with Mr. Vong - the first conversation between the two since the tense confrontation many months ago. Van Khe stood from afar observing, not daring to get close, afraid of interrupting that sensitive moment.

— I'm sorry for what I've caused your family, — Mr. Nguyen said, his voice somewhat shy, rarely seen in a powerful person like him. — The lawsuit, the pine wood story, the clay mine story... I knew I had crossed the line.

Mr. Vong looked at Mr. Nguyen for a long time, then nodded slightly, his voice tolerant.

— I understand, you are just a victim of a tragedy that you do not know about, — he replied. — If I were in your position, I probably would have acted the same way. The important thing is that now, when the truth is clear, we can continue to write the story together in a different, better direction.

Mr. Nguyen nodded, his eyes looking towards the burning gourd tree, white smoke billowing out into the clear blue afternoon sky.

— I withdraw the lawsuit, — he said, his voice decisive. — And I will direct to immediately stop any other pressure moves from the company. I am also considering, perhaps Tan Tho should support part of the funding for the creation of heritage records, as a way of atonement, and also a way of investing in the business image associated with local culture.

That news quickly spread to Van Khe through her father's words, making her unable to hide her emotions. She found Khang and told the whole story. They both held hands tightly, their eyes sparkling with happiness mixed with hope.

— I can't believe that things can change so quickly, — Van Khe said, her voice still shaking with emotion, her eyes looking up at the white smoke rising from the gourd plant as a living proof of all the miracles that had just happened.

— Sometimes, the truth just needs a chance to be told, — Khang replied, his eyes gently looking at her. — And I believe it was your perseverance and sincerity over the past few months that created that opportunity, Van Khe.

That afternoon, as the sunlight gradually shifted to the west, dyeing the whole factory yard and the burning gourd tree, Van Khe felt lighter than ever, as if a giant rock that had been weighing her down for many months had finally been lifted, giving way to a clear belief in what was still ahead, a belief that she had never dared to allow herself to fully feel since the day her grandfather passed away.