Chapter 26 — Pottery Kiln Fire Keeper

The day to open the furnace came on a clear autumn morning, bright yellow sunlight spread across the factory yard, as if heaven and earth themselves were holding their breath waiting with everyone. From early morning, a large number of Doi Sanh villagers, along with the heritage survey team, Ms. Uong Bich Thuy, Mr. Hua Dinh Toai, and the entire Chiem family - Mr. Chiem Vinh Truong in a wheelchair, Mr. Chiem Dac Nguyen in simple clothes - were all present in the workshop yard, creating an unprecedented scene throughout the history of Vong Nguyet furnace.

Van Khe stood in front of the first furnace door, her hands trembling more than any time she had opened the furnace before, not because of fear of failure, but because of the weight of everything that had led to this moment — thirty-five years of enmity, so many months of hardship, so many tears and hopes that had been put into this ancient gourd furnace.

— You can do it, — Mr. Vong stood next to him, his voice full of pride, gently squeezing his daughter's shoulder in encouragement, just like he did during the opening ceremony seven days ago.

Van Khe took a deep breath and began to pry off the sealing layer of soil in the first furnace cavity. Like previous times, ordinary ceramic items appeared one after another, with familiar but beautiful ash glaze colors, much more uniform than previous batches - a testament to the technical progress that she and Khang had diligently researched and adjusted over the past many months.

But the moment that everyone is waiting with bated breath is the special oven compartment, where the tea set and several experimental works of Nguyet Bach enamel are placed, carefully arranged according to the final improved recipe.

*

Van Khe approached the fateful furnace chamber, her hands were shaking so much that Khang had to step forward and gently place his hands on her shoulders, conveying a silent stability.

— You can do it, — he said softly, just loud enough for her to hear. — Regardless of the outcome, we have come this far together.

She nodded, carefully prying away each piece of sealing soil. A stream of warm air blew out, carrying the characteristic scent of yeast that had just gone through the fire, sweeter and more mysterious than any time before. She reached inside and touched the smooth, undamaged surface of the first teapot — no cracks, no broken pieces.

She slowly took out the kettle and held it up under the sunlight that was shining throughout the factory yard.

The whole crowd simultaneously held their breath, then let out a chorus of surprised admiration.

The enamel layer on the teapot has a pure ivory white color like the full moon, but when the sunlight shines through, it glows with a deep, shimmering jade green color as if there is a small moon hidden inside each thin layer of enamel, changing with each angle of light shining in, creating a breathtakingly beautiful visual effect that no industrial enamel can copy.

"Here it is," Ms. Thuy whispered, her voice shaking with emotion, the camera in her hand almost falling to the ground. — This is Nguyet Bach yeast...

Van Khe stood silently, tears rolling down her cheeks, unable to say a word. She took out the remaining items from the oven one by one — almost the entire tea set achieved the same glaze effect, each with a slightly different shade of light but all exuding a magical, pure beauty as described in her grandfather's old diary.

*

Mr. Chiem Vinh Truong, pushed closer by his nephew in a wheelchair, reached out with trembling hands to receive the teapot from Van Khe. His eyes filled with tears as he looked at the achievement that he and his close friend had dreamed of thirty-five years ago.

— That's right, — he whispered, his voice choked up. — It's exactly the color we dreamed of and stayed up all night looking for. Mr. Tuyen, your niece has finally done it.

He raised his eyes to the deep blue sky above, as if whispering to a deceased friend, and in that moment, no one in the crowd could hold back their tears at this emotional scene.

Van Khe knelt next to Mr. Truong's wheelchair and held his shaking hands.

— Grandfather, — she said, her voice choking, — I promised you. I will name this yeast line "Nguyet Bach Tri Ky" — to commemorate the friendship between you and your grandfather, so that their story will forever be engraved in every product that bears its name.

Mr. Truong burst into tears, the tears of an old man who had carried guilt and regret for thirty-five years, now mixed with ultimate happiness and liberation, fell endlessly on his wrinkled face filled with time.

*

News about the success of Nguyet Bach yeast quickly spread, not only in the village but also to the ears of the head professor of the heritage survey team, who immediately came to check and evaluate the quality of the yeast with his professional eyes.

— This is an amazing discovery, — he said, his voice filled with excitement rarely seen in a veteran researcher. — This type of glaze, with its unique technique of creating changing light effects, absolutely deserves to be recognized as an important innovation in the history of traditional Vietnamese ceramics. I believe that the heritage profile of Doi Sanh village now has the most solid basis to be recognized.

Amid the cheers and endless applause of the surrounding crowd, Van Khe stood silently looking at the scene before her eyes - her father was beaming with a happy smile, Khang was standing next to him with undisguised pride in his eyes, Mr. Truong and Nguyen were hugging each other emotionally, and the whole community was rejoicing at the results of a arduous yet meaningful journey. She knew that this was not just a victory for her family, but a victory for an entire traditional profession, for perseverance, for love, and for the healing power of truth and sincerity.

*

Khac Ben, standing next to Mr. Giang Van Thoi - who came early in the morning even though his legs were weak, he had to walk slowly with a cane - both of them looked at the teapots with Nguyet Bach enamel, Mr. Thoi's eyes shone with an indescribable emotion.

— In the forty years that I have worked as a furnace stoker for the Thach family, — he said, his voice trembling with age and emotion, — I have never witnessed a moment like this. If Mr. Tuyen were still alive, he would certainly be very proud of his grandson Khe, more proud than he ever dreamed.

— I believe he's seeing everything, Mr. Thoi, — Van Khe replied, stepping forward to hold his hands, calloused from many years of working with fire and wood. — And I also want to thank you, for always being by my side, for telling me the first pieces of the puzzle that helped me find the truth, so that I had the courage to continue on this arduous journey.

Mr. Thoi was so moved that he couldn't speak, he just nodded repeatedly, his eyes blurred by age were now filled with rare tears of happiness, his trembling hands still did not leave Van Khe's hand as if he wanted to keep this precious moment forever.

That afternoon, the entire pottery workshop turned into a simple but warm celebration space, with the participation of almost all Doi Sanh villagers. People brought all kinds of rustic dishes, toasting the success of the historic firing, the reconciliation between the two families, and the brighter future that is opening up for the entire traditional craft village.

Mr. Nguyen, standing in the middle of the crowd, suddenly spoke, his voice filled with sincere emotions rarely expressed in public.

— I used to think that the only way to survive was to eliminate old and outdated things, — he said, looking around at the radiant faces around him. — But today, I realized I was wrong. There are values that cannot be measured by profits or output, but can only be felt with the heart. I would like to thank Van Khe, my son, for giving me the opportunity to look back, correct my mistakes, and find my way back to myself.

The sound of applause echoed throughout the factory yard, mixed with the thin smoke that still lingered on the roof of the Vong Nguyet furnace, as a testament to a new chapter full of hope that had just opened, not only for the Thach family, but for the entire community that had gone through many ups and downs together to preserve the traditional fire that never extinguished, a fire that now, no one had to maintain alone anymore.