Chapter 28 — The Tea House at the End of the Street

The anniversary of my grandfather's death that year fell on a clear morning in early autumn, with a rare clear blue sky after many days of heavy rain. Nhien woke up very early and prepared everything more thoughtfully than usual - not only because this was the first death anniversary after she had completely completed the original Van Coc recipe, but also because she wanted to invite many people to come and remember him, those who had accompanied her throughout her recent tumultuous journey.

The altar was cleaned, fresh flowers were carefully arranged in the old ceramic vase that her grandfather still loved, and in the most solemn position, Nhien placed a small tea set specifically for the tea offering ceremony - the tea set that her grandfather used during the last years of his life, now carefully cleaned by her, shiny as ever.

From early morning, Mr. Ba Nghi, Mr. Ba Le, Thuy Duong and their families, Nhat Vy, and even Ms. Ngoc Tram returning from far away, were all present at the tea room, bringing fruits, incense, and memories of Mr. Bach Tuong that each person wanted to share on this special day.

Viet Khuong was also present early, standing quietly in a corner, not wanting to disturb the solemn atmosphere of the family, even though Nhien invited him to fully participate in the ceremony as a close member. He carried a small wooden box, inside were some fresh tea leaves picked from the ancient tea garden on the hill that morning - Mr. Khai Vu specially asked someone to bring it down in time for the death anniversary, even though he himself could not be present in person because his health did not allow him to travel long distances continuously.

Before the ceremony, Mr. Ba Le pulled Nhien to a corner, his hand holding something carefully wrapped in an old velvet cloth. "I have something I want to give you today," he said, his voice low with emotion. He opened the fabric, inside was a small purple teapot, ancient in shape, different from the teapots Nhien used every day. "This is the first pot my grandfather used to test a replacement batch of Van Coc, right after opening the tea house. He gave it to me to keep for me many years ago, saying that one day, when someone worthy of continuing this story completely, I will know who to give it to."

Nhien picked up the kettle, her hands trembling as she felt the weight of a long story in her palm. "Thank you," she said, her voice choked, "for taking such good care of it all these years."

"I'm just keeping it for you," Mr. Ba Le smiled, his eyes shining with pride. "And the person who really deserves it is you."

When it was time for the ceremony, Nhien knelt before the altar, lit three incense sticks, her eyes looked at her grandfather's photo with a peace that she had never felt since the day he passed away. She began the ritual of making tea to offer to the altar — not ordinary tea, but the first batch of original Van Coc she brewed specifically for this occasion, using entirely fresh tea leaves just brought down from the ancient tea garden.

She boiled water in the same old copper kettle her grandfather still used, watching for the correct boiling point "crab's eye, fish's eye" that he had taught her since she was a child. She rinsed the pot no more than three times, added the tea with the right amount of familiar feeling in her palm, poured water, closed the lid, waited for the necessary silence in absolute silence, when the whole tea room seemed to hold its breath with her every move.

When pouring tea into a cup and offering it to the altar, hot steam rises dimly in the morning sunlight passing through the window, bringing with it the rich, deep aroma typical of the original tea variety that has been buried for half a century.

"Grandpa," Nhien said, her voice choked but filled with pride. "I have completed it. Van Coc is complete, just as he has wished for the past forty years. I know he has lived with a pain I have never fully understood, but I believe, today, when I stand here and offer him this cup of tea, he will feel more relieved, even if only a little."

She stopped, looked around at the dear faces standing around her - Mr. Ba Nghi with red eyes, Mr. Ba Le nodded softly as if confirming with a deceased old friend that everything had finally been completely resolved, Thuy Duong held her husband's hand emotionally, Nhat Vy quietly wiped away her tears, Ms. Ngoc Tram stood in the corner of the room with an expression of both regret and pride, and Viet Khuong stood there, his eyes full of respect for the sacred moment. hey.

"I also want you to know," Nhien continued, her voice trembling slightly, "I have found someone I trust, someone who is willing to stand by my side, towards this tea house, even though his background is closely tied to my family's painful story. I think, this is the clearest proof that old wounds, if faced properly, can completely become the foundation for something better, instead of continuing forever."

After the tea offering ceremony, everyone gathered around the simply but cozy dining table, sharing stories and memories about Mr. Bach Tuong. Mr. Ba Le recounted the first days he learned the tea profession from him, and the strict but loving lessons he still gave to his students. Mr. Ba Nghi recalled the afternoons when the two old friends sat together, not saying much, just quietly drinking tea, enjoying each other's company without words.

Ms. Ngoc Tram, while having a meal, suddenly felt moved to recount a memory that Nhien herself had never heard of. "When she was young, before Mr. Tuong got married, she once asked him why he chose such a hard job as a tea maker instead of working as a leisurely civil servant like everyone else. He said, making tea was the only way he knew to maintain peace in his heart in the midst of a tumultuous life. At that time, she was still young and didn't fully understand what he was saying. Looking back at everything now, she can understand it somewhat."

Nhien listened and remembered every word her aunt told her, feeling like she was gradually piecing together a more complete portrait of the grandfather that she always thought she understood, but it turned out there was still a lot more to discover.

At the end of the evening, when the guests gradually left, only Nhien and Viet Khuong remained sitting in the tea room, the afternoon sunlight began to dye the familiar window frame yellow.

"Thank you for bringing the tea leaves down in time for today," Nhien said, pouring them both a cup of Van Coc tea left over from this morning's brew.

"That's the smallest thing I can do," Viet Khuong replied, taking the teacup and taking a small sip. "Watching you perform the ritual this morning, I truly understood the meaning of what you went through, sacrificed, to keep this."

Nhien looked at him, a warm smile on her lips. "I think, my grandfather, if he could see everything today, he would definitely be very happy. Not only because Van Coc is complete, but also because I have found someone who truly understands and appreciates the values he left behind, not just simply the tea recipe, but also a complete philosophy of life behind it."

They sat quietly together, sipping tea in the sunset falling on Nguyet Tra street, without needing to say more words, simply enjoying the rare moment of peace after a tumultuous journey.

Nhien looked down at the ancient purple tea pot that Mr. Ba Le had just handed over, placing it next to the one she still used every day. The two pots were next to each other as a symbol of two generations, two stages of the same long story. She thought that one day, when there was a special occasion, she would use this ancient kettle to brew a pot of Van Coc, continuing the link between past and present that her family had preserved for many generations.

"Can you believe it," she said softly, still looking at the kettle, "just a few months ago, I thought I would have to shoulder all of this alone, with no one to share it with, no one who truly understood the significance of every little detail of the work I was doing."

"What now?" Viet Khuong asked, his voice gentle.

"Now I realize, I was never truly alone," Nhien replied, turning to look at him with eyes filled with peace. "I just need time, a big enough shock, to realize all the people who have always been there, ready to move on with me."

Both clearly felt that, although there were still many things left unsaid, the love between the two was stronger than ever, forged through the most difficult challenges they had overcome together.