Chapter 23 — The Lantern That Never Goes Out

The night of the parade of lights has finally arrived. Right from the beginning of the afternoon, when the sun had not completely hidden behind the ancient tiled roofs, the stream of people began to flock to Nguyet Giang ancient town, much larger than the Organizing Committee predicted. Uyen Chi, in a simple but elegant ivory silk ao dai, stood at the central booth of the Van Nguyet workshop, her heart pounding as she witnessed lines of people eagerly entering the festival area.

The booths have been completely set up since the morning, each booth has its own beauty, decorated with the products of each craft household. The pottery stall with vases and cups arranged in an artistic tower shape, the mat weaving stall with exquisitely patterned mats stretching out, the bamboo and rattan weaving stall with baskets and hanging hats forming a unique dome. But the most prominent is still the lantern display area, where hundreds of lanterns of all sizes and patterns are hung in tiers, creating an unprecedentedly splendid scene.

When the afternoon light began to turn dark purple, the parade officially departed from the communal house yard. In the lead was Mr. Bay Tuyen, holding a large lantern in his hand, walking slowly but majestically, followed by artisans from each household, each carrying their most passionate product. Uyen Chi went with her father, Mr. Khoan, sitting in a wheelchair decorated with beautiful little lanterns, his hands shaking but his eyes shining with happiness when he saw the scene before him.

People on both sides of the street cheered and clapped endlessly as the parade passed by. The children eagerly pointed at each lamp, and the adults admired the sophistication of each pattern. The sounds of drums and traditional musical instruments resounded loudly, mixed with sparkling lights to create a truly festive atmosphere, warm and full of vitality.

Thien Vu, with his camera always ready, moved flexibly between the parade and the crowd, capturing every precious moment. He captured the image of an old woman with tears in her eyes when she saw the reproduction of the lantern style she used to make in her youth, the image of a group of foreign tourists passionately taking photos with the lanterns, the image of children running hand in hand along the parade with sparkling eyes full of admiration.

The parade goes along the main street, through each small alley, each house has bright lights hanging, creating a continuous strip of light stretching throughout the entire street. Uyen Chi, even though her legs were tired after a long journey, still felt filled with an indescribable happiness, as if all the fatigue and worries of the past weeks had disappeared in this moment.

When the parade reached the river wharf, where the lantern release ceremony would take place, a sea of people had already gathered, so crowded that it overflowed both sides of the river. A small stage was temporarily set up right at the old wharf, where Mr. Doi Quang Minh, as a representative of the Management Board, stepped up to give the opening speech.

"Dear people," he said, his voice filled with emotion different from the usual reservedness in previous meetings, "today, together we witnessed something special — not an event organized by any major sponsor, but the achievement of the hands, minds and hearts of the people of Nguyet Giang ancient town. I, as an individual, would like to express my deep admiration for your spirit of solidarity and resilience. child."

The applause echoed throughout the riverbank, lasting endlessly. Uyen Chi stood in the crowd, holding her father's hand tightly, feeling the emotions welling up in both of their hearts. Next to her, Thien Vu lowered the camera for a moment, looking at her with eyes full of pride and love.

The lantern releasing ceremony began immediately afterward. Each person, each family, brought their lamp to the water's edge, carefully placed the candle inside, lit it, and then gently dropped it into the river. In just a few minutes, the entire surface of the Nguyet Giang River lit up with hundreds, thousands of shimmering lights floating along the water, creating a magical scene like coming out of a dream.

Uyen Chi, her hands trembling, carrying the small nine-petal lotus lamp that she had stayed up all night to complete, walked to the water's edge with Thien Vu. She lit the small candle inside, the warm golden light penetrated through the thin silk, casting a gentle halo on her face.

"For you," she whispered, her eyes filled with tears as she gently placed the lamp on the water, letting it slowly float out into the middle of the stream, blending into the sea of light spreading across the river's surface.

Thien Vu stood next to her, holding her hand, both of them silently watching the lamp drift away, its light mixed with hundreds of other lights but still retaining its unique, unmistakable characteristics. "You must be smiling somewhere," he said softly, his voice as choked up as Uyen Chi's.

Far away, among the crowd passionately admiring the beautiful scenery, Uyen Chi briefly recognized the familiar figure of Ms. Dieu Hanh, standing quietly alone, her eyes following the river full of lights with an expression that was both emotional and as if she was looking for something. But next to her, there was no sign of Mr. Han Vinh Vuong.

However, right now, amidst the shimmering light of thousands of handmade lanterns floating on the river, amidst the happy cheers of an entire community, Uyen Chi feels her heart is full, with no more room for worries or regrets. Tonight, although not the complete end of everything, is certainly an undeniable victory of love for the profession, of solidarity, and of the belief that true light, no matter how small, always has the power to shine farther than anything brilliant but lifeless.

After the lantern release ceremony, the program continued with the storytelling part by Mr. Bay Tuyen, sitting in the middle of a large circle of audiences, from young children to the elderly, even foreign tourists listened attentively through the interpretation of a young volunteer. His voice was warm and deep, recounting stories about the history of lamp making in the old town, about past artisans who silently devoted their lives to each slat, each piece of silk, without mentioning anyone's specific name, but anyone who was observant could recognize that there was a faint shadow of Mrs. Tuyet Nga in there.

Uyen Chi stood silently listening from afar, her tears rolled down uncontrollably when she heard Mr. Bay's description of the Cuu Lien lamp, about the artist who put all his heart and soul into creating a masterpiece not to prove to anyone, but to affirm his own value after unspeakable injuries. Bao Chau stood next to him, gently held his friend's hand, said nothing, just quietly shared that emotional moment.

The program lasted until late at night, with performances of traditional musical instruments, a quick lamp drawing contest for children, and a bustling atmosphere that continued throughout the evening. The stalls sold a number of products that far exceeded expectations. Many artisans emotionally shared that this was the festival season with the best sales in recent years, although at first everyone was afraid of the risk of being completely overwhelmed by plastic lights.

Near midnight, when the crowd had thinned out, leaving only the organizers busy cleaning up, a group of young reporters came to ask to interview Uyen Chi again, this time not for a short news report, but for a long report about her journey and the whole village. She stood in front of the camera, the lantern light still sparkling behind her, telling the whole story from the first days of hearing about the contract with Han Phat, until today's festival night, her voice was calm but filled with emotion.

"What I want most," she told the camera, "is not to defeat anyone, but to prove that traditional values, if properly appreciated and nurtured, can still be alive, can still touch the hearts of modern people, without having to be completely opposed to development."

The interview ended, the group of reporters thanked them and left, leaving Uyen Chi standing alone in the riverbank scene that was gradually returning to quiet after a bustling night. She looked out at the river, where the last few lights still floated lazily in the distance, their light gradually dwindling but still persistently shining in the vast darkness, as a living symbol of the journey that she and the whole community had gone through together.

Thien Vu came next to her and put a thin coat on her shoulders because the night wind had become cold. "Are you tired?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Tired, but happy," Uyen Chi replied, resting her head on his shoulder. "I never thought that one day I could witness a scene like tonight. I thought it was just a dream."

"That's a real dream, created by you and everyone else," Thien Vu said, gently squeezing her shoulder. "I believe, after tonight, everything will be very different, not only for the craft village, but perhaps, for my father as well."

Uyen Chi looked up at him, didn't say anything more, just smiled slightly, letting the rare peace of that moment fill both of them, before they returned together to help with the last unfinished cleaning tasks.