Chapter 15 — The Lantern That Never Goes Out

Three days later, just as Thien Vu recounted, Ms. Lu Dieu Hanh visited Van Nguyet factory on a rainy afternoon. She appeared quietly, without warning, wearing only a simple dark brown ao dai, holding a small umbrella, her humble appearance was completely different from the image of the wife of a large company CEO that Uyen Chi had imagined.

"Sorry for stopping by," she said, her voice gentle, her eyes scanning the workshop with barely concealed emotion. "I'm Dieu Hanh, Thien Vu's mother. I'd like to meet you and Uncle Khoan for a bit, if convenient."

Mr. Khoan, when he heard her name, was a bit stunned, but then he quickly regained his composure, invited her into the house, and poured a cup of hot tea for guests. Uyen Chi sat next to her, observing the woman in front of her with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, although she also felt a sincerity radiating from her calm appearance.

"I know, Thien Vu told you two about the old story, between his grandfather and Mrs. Tuyet Nga," Mrs. Dieu Hanh opened after a short silence, her voice carrying a torment that had been weighing her down for a long time. "I became the Han family's daughter-in-law not long after that happened. At first I didn't know anything, only gradually, through the gossip, through the strange attitude of my husband's family every time the old lamp factory was mentioned, did I partly understand the truth."

"How well do you know?" Uyen Chi asked, trying to keep her voice calm even though she was feeling queasy inside.

Ms. Dieu Hanh opened the small bag she brought with her, took out an old envelope, and carefully placed it on the table. "A long time ago, before Mrs. Tuyet Nga passed away, she came to see me once, when I had just returned to be a bride not long ago. She didn't say much, just gave me this thing, telling me to keep it, in case I needed it. She said, she believed me, because she saw that I still maintained the sincerity that the people in my husband's family had lost."

Uyen Chi tremblingly opened the envelope, inside was another copy of the double helix frame technical drawing that she and her father had found before, but this time it was also accompanied by a short letter handwritten by Mrs. Tuyet Nga herself, the familiar handwriting that Uyen Chi had memorized through the notebook left behind.

The letter said: "I don't keep a grudge in my heart, I just hope that one day, when the time is right, the truth will be reiterated, not to complain, but to let the children and grandchildren of both families understand that the true value of the lamp making profession does not lie in who is the inventor, but in the heart the craftsman has for each lamp he makes."

Reading those words, Uyen Chi felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, not because of sadness, but because she fully felt her grandmother's tolerance, a tolerance that she had never truly understood until now. Mr. Khoan, sitting next to him, could not hide his emotions. His hands trembled as he held the letter, reading it over and over again.

"Thank you," Mr. Khoan said, his voice choked, "for taking care of this all these years."

"I only regret," Ms. Dieu Hanh replied, her eyes also filled with tears, "that I did not have the courage to bring it up sooner, to be able to partially prevent what is happening now. I know my husband will not easily accept this truth, but I think, it is time to continue being silent."

Uyen Chi held Ms. Dieu Hanh's hand, a gesture full of gratitude. "You don't need to feel guilty. Just the fact that you have carefully preserved these things for so many years, and are brave enough to bring them here today, is already extremely meaningful."

Mrs. Dieu Hanh stayed a while longer, chatting more about the few memories she still remembered of Mrs. Tuyet Nga, about the early years when she first became a bride, feeling the strange coldness between her husband's family and the small lamp factory not far away. Before leaving, she held Uyen Chi's hand, her eyes contained a secret hope.

"I hope that what is happening between you and Thien Vu will be a way to mend what our generation has left unfinished," she said, then walked out of the workshop in the still light rain, her small figure gradually disappearing behind the misty rain.

That evening, while Uyen Chi and his father were still sitting quietly next to the letter and drawing, pondering what to do next with this precious evidence, Thien Vu rushed over, his face showing concern.

"Something's wrong," he said, his voice urgent. "I just heard the news, my father knows about my mother's coming here, he is very angry. Not only that, I heard rumors, he is thinking about putting pressure, maybe trying to withdraw part of his commitment to cooperate with units supplying raw materials to small households in the street, households related to supporting the parade night."

Uyen Chi felt a new wave of anxiety come over her, mixed with the confidence she had just strengthened from her grandmother's letter. She looked at Thien Vu, at her father, then down at the old pages on the table, realizing that, although the truth had gradually become clear, the road ahead was still full of thorns, and perhaps, the coming days would be even more difficult than anything they had experienced so far.

"Do you think your father would really do that?" Uyen Chi asked, her voice unable to hide her insecurity. "Putting pressure on craft households that are not directly related, just because they support the parade of lights?"

Thien Vu sighed, sat down on the chair, and hugged his head with both hands. "I'm not sure, but when my father is angry, he often acts more emotionally than rationally. He always considers controlling the image and business reputation a top priority, and perhaps he sees the parade of lights as a direct challenge to the position that the company has just gained through the contract with the Management Board."

Mr. Khoan placed Ms. Tuyet Nga's letter on the table carefully, his eyes thoughtful. "If he really does that, then this is no longer just a matter of business, but a matter of using power to silence the voices of the weak-minded. But," he paused, his eyes shining with a rare determination, "that's why we can't step back. If we step back now, it will be as if all our efforts have gone down the drain."

"I agree with you," Uyen Chi said, her voice became firmer even though there was still worry in her heart. "We will continue as planned. If any household has difficulty due to pressure, Van Nguyet workshop will try to support as much as possible, no matter how big or small."

Thien Vu looked at father and son, in his eyes there was both worry and deep admiration for their resilient spirit. "I will find a way to talk to my father again, bringing this letter and drawing as evidence. Perhaps, it is time for him to face the truth directly, instead of continuing to avoid it like so many years."

That night, after Thien Vu left, Uyen Chi sat at the table and carefully put the letter and drawing in a new box, sturdier than the rusty old tin box. She looked at her grandmother's handwriting one last time before folding it up, silently promising her that, no matter how big the storm ahead, she would not let her grandmother's last wish be forgotten, and would find every way to make the values she had silently cultivated all her life shine as they deserved.

She didn't go upstairs right away but walked out into the yard, standing in the rain that had completely stopped, leaving only a few drops of water falling from the eaves onto the wet tile floor. The air after the rain is cool, carrying the smell of damp earth mixed with the smell of newly split bamboo that lingers from the day. She looked up at the night sky, the clouds clearing to reveal a few stars, and wondered if her grandmother was watching from somewhere, if she would be satisfied with what her granddaughter was trying to do.

She thought of Mrs. Dieu Hanh, of that woman's both guilty and relieved eyes when she handed back the letter after many years of keeping it, and felt a deep sympathy. Perhaps, Ms. Dieu Hanh also had to carry the burden of that secret for decades, unable to share it with anyone, not knowing when was the right time to tell it. Uyen Chi told herself, she will not let her kindness and courage go in vain, and will find the wisest way to use this evidence, not to take revenge or humiliate anyone, but to bring about a belated but necessary justice.

She returned to the house, closed the door, looked at the Cuu Lien lamp still hanging in the corner of the workshop, the light from the small oil lamp cast a familiar warm halo on it. Tonight, sleep came to her later than usual, but when it came, it was a rare peaceful sleep, no longer tormented by unanswered questions like before, but instead with a new confidence, built on the foundation of the truth that had just been fully revealed.