Chapter 6 — The Lantern That Never Goes Out

That morning, Van Nguyet workshop was busier than usual because the whole family was preparing for the "Old Craft Market" scheduled to take place next weekend. Uyen Chi was struggling to rearrange the lamp models for display, so as to both show the diversity of the workshop and retain its unique sophistication, when there was a strange sound of footsteps stopping right in front of the door. She looked up and saw a young man standing outside the doorway, the morning sunlight shining behind him, making his face at first just a faint shadow.

"Excuse me, is this Van Nguyet lamp factory?" the man asked, his voice was deep and warm, with good pronunciation but a bit strange, like that of someone who hadn't lived in the old town for a long time.

"Yes, that's right. What do you need?" Uyen Chi replied, stepping closer to the door to see the stranger clearly. It was a man in his late thirties, tall, dressed simply but politely, carrying a camera slung over his shoulder. His eyes swept across the workshop with obvious curiosity and admiration, completely different from the cold assessment she had seen from Mr. Han Vinh Vuong.

"I'm Han Thien Vu, invited by the Old Quarter Management Board to help organize the cultural performance for this year's festival," he introduced, extending his hand to shake. "I'm going to explore traditional workshops in the city. I heard that Van Nguyet factory is one of the oldest and most famous lamp factories, so I should stop by first."

The name "Han" made Uyen Chi pause for a moment, the hand he was about to reach out to shake suddenly slowed down. She looked more closely at the man's face in front of her, trying to find something similar to Mr. Han Vinh Vuong that she had met in the recent tense meeting. There was something in his facial features, in his upright posture, that she couldn't help but associate with.

"Do you have any relationship with Mr. Han Vinh Vuong, a member of Han Phat company?" she asked directly, her voice unable to hide her wariness.

Thien Vu paused slightly, then nodded, his eyes flashing with an indescribable complexity. "That's my father," he replied, his voice low. "But I don't work for my father's company. I was personally invited by the Old Town Management Board, as someone who studied design and has experience organizing cultural events."

Uyen Chi was silent for a moment, mixed emotions rising in her heart - both wary because of her connection to the Han family, and curious about this man's sudden appearance. She remembered Mr. Vuong's strange reaction when hearing the name of Van Nguyet workshop, and remembered the old drawing with the signatures "Tuyet Nga" and possibly "Ba Vinh" that she and her father had just found. Perhaps, the man standing in front of her, whether intentionally or unintentionally, is also carrying a part of that past story.

"Come in here," she said, her voice still reserved but no longer as harsh as the first moment. "But I have to say first, my family and your father's company do not have a good relationship, at least through the last meeting."

"I heard a little from my father," Thien Vu said, entering the workshop, his eyes could not hide his passion as he glanced at the lamps hanging on the wall and the unfinished bamboo frames on the work table. "To be honest, I do not completely agree with Han Phat company's approach to this year's festival. That is also part of the reason I agreed to work with the Management Board, I want to ensure that the cultural performance is not overshadowed or turned into a disguised advertising stage."

Uyen Chi looked at him, trying to judge whether these words were sincere or just the clever words of a professional media person. But Thien Vu's eyes, when he stopped in front of the Cuu Lien Mau lamp hanging in the corner of the workshop, exuded a sincerity that was difficult to fake. He stood silently looking at the lamp for a long time, as if hypnotized by the exquisite beauty of nine interlocking layers of lotus petals.

"This is..." he asked softly, his voice suddenly becoming softer.

"Nine Lien Lamp, the most famous work of my grandmother, Mrs. Pho Tuyet Nga," Uyen Chi replied, carefully observing his reaction.

Thien Vu's face suddenly changed color, his eyes opened a little wider, as if that name had just touched some deep memory. "Pho Tuyet Nga..." he repeated, his voice as if he was trying to remember something. "This name... I have a feeling I've heard it before, when I was very young. It seems my grandmother once mentioned it, but I don't remember under what circumstances."

"Who is your grandmother?" Uyen Chi asked immediately, her heart suddenly beat faster.

"My grandmother died when I was very young, I only vaguely remember a few pictures," Thien Vu replied, "but my grandfather, Mr. Han Ba Vinh, died before I was born. My father rarely mentioned him, every time I asked he was dismissed."

The name "Han Ba Vinh" rang out, making Uyen Chi feel like the whole workshop suddenly went silent for a moment. That was the name on the old drawing, the name that Mr. Bay Tuyen mentioned briefly when she asked about her grandmother's past. She looked at Thien Vu, realizing that the man standing in front of her was not simply an event organizer who happened to drop by, but a living piece of the very mystery she was trying to understand.

"Mr. Vu," she said, trying to keep her voice calm even though her heart was swirling with many questions, "perhaps there is a story between your family and my family from a long time ago, that neither of us know yet. Your grandfather and my grandmother seem to have been related to each other in the lamp making profession."

Thien Vu looked at her, his eyes both surprised and curious. "Can you elaborate? I really don't know anything about this. My family is very secretive about the past, especially about my grandfather."

Uyen Chi hesitated a bit, considering whether or not to share what she and her father had just discovered. But looking at Thien Vu's sincere, somewhat confused eyes, she felt that perhaps this was not someone who came to probe or take advantage, but was actually lost in her own family story, just like her.

"I don't know everything yet," she said, picking her words, "but my father and I just found an old drawing of my grandmother's, signed by her and someone named Ba Vinh, of a technique for weaving lamp frames. It seems that once upon a time, the two of them were professional friends, and may have even invented the technique together."

Thien Vu was silent, his face clearly showing contemplation. "If that's true," he said slowly, "then perhaps that technique became the foundation for my father's company later. I remember, when I was young, I once asked my father why our company was able to produce lamps with such a special folding structure. He just said it was 'my grandfather's invention', without any further explanation."

The two looked at each other, both feeling the weight of what had just been revealed, even though it was only fragmentary pieces that had not yet clearly formed. Uyen Chi realized that perhaps Thien Vu's appearance was not a simple coincidence, but an opportunity - an opportunity for her to find out the truth about her grandmother's past, and maybe, also an opportunity to mend something that had been broken for a long time between the two families.

"I don't want to jump to any conclusions," she said, her voice much softer than before. "But if you really want to learn about lamp making for cultural performances, I can show you the working process at the factory, if you want."

Thien Vu's face lit up, the first smile since entering the workshop appeared on his lips, sincere and warm. "I'd love to," he said. "Honestly, since childhood I have always been curious about lamp making, even though my family now makes lamps in a completely different way. Perhaps, this is also an opportunity for me to better understand my own roots."

Uyen Chi nodded and led him to the desk, where bamboo slats were waiting to be woven into a frame. In her heart, although there were still many doubts and cautions, a new feeling had begun to creep in - the feeling that, in the midst of the storm that was coming to Nguyet Giang ancient town, perhaps she had just found an unexpected ally, even though there were still many things that could not be clearly said about the road ahead between the two of them.

She picked up a thinned bamboo stick and showed it to Thien Vu, how it bent under the force of her hand without breaking. "If you want bamboo slats to be flexible without breaking, you must choose the right age of the tree, not too young or too old. Young bamboo is soft but susceptible to termites, old bamboo is hard but brittle, easily cracking when bent many times." She spoke and modeled, bending the bar into a soft curve with both hands. "My grandmother once said, choosing bamboo is like choosing a person, you have to understand the quality inside, you can't just guess by looking at the appearance."

Thien Vu observed attentively, occasionally reaching out touch the slats stacked neatly on the shelf, feeling the smoothness under his fingertips. "Once upon a time when I was young, I remember sneaking into my grandfather's workshop to play, even though at that time the workshop had switched to making more aluminum and plastic frames than bamboo. There was a small corner that still kept a few bunches of old bamboo, no one touched it. I used to sit there and play with it, trying to bend a few bars for fun. I never expected to be able to stand in a workshop that still keeps the whole process intact like this." His voice carried a bit of nostalgia, mixed with regret, but even he didn't know why he felt so moved by seemingly simple things.

Uyen Chi quietly observed him, realizing in Thien Vu's eyes that there was a real thrill at the values of craftsmanship that his family, for some reason, chose to leave to follow the path of industrialization. She is not yet in a hurry to believe completely, but she cannot deny that this man's appearance is making the seemingly simple picture - the good side, the evil side - become much more complicated and multi-dimensional.