Chapter 5 — The Tea House at the End of the Street

Saturday morning, Nguyet Tra Street woke up in an atmosphere different from every other day. Since early morning, bustling electronic music has sounded from the house next to the tea room, mixed with the sound of loudspeakers introducing promotional programs, and the sound of people lining up laughing and talking. Nhien stood in the kitchen, still watching over the charcoal stove like every morning, but her ears couldn't help but hear those strange sounds creeping through the common wall.

Suong Mai Tea Lab officially opened.

She opened the tea room door at exactly six o'clock as usual, but when she stepped out to sweep the front porch, the scene before her eyes made her pause for a moment. The long line of people lining up in front of the store next door stretched all the way to the corner of the street, mostly young people holding phones, constantly taking photos of the glowing neon sign in the shape of a stylized dew drop. A group of staff wearing bright blue uniforms stood handing out flyers, smiling and welcoming each guest. Behind was an open bar, where automatic tea makers, shakers, and cup-capping machines worked continuously, creating a series of regular, quick mechanical sounds.

Completely opposite to the silence of the Nguyet Dinh tea room.

Nhien stood still for a moment, observing the scene like an outsider watching a movie without him in it. She recognized a few familiar faces in the queue — two young girls who had visited the teahouse a few times for afternoon tea, were now eagerly waiting for their turn to order "Morning Oolong Tea — salted cream version." She doesn't blame them. Curiosity and excitement about new things are natural to people, especially young people who are looking for new experiences in their busy lives.

But looking at that scene, a burning question began to form in her mind: did her teahouse, with what she was preserving, still have any meaning in this rapidly changing world?

That morning, Nguyet Dinh teahouse only welcomed two guests - Mr. Ba Nghi arrived early as usual, and an elderly lady living down the street stopped by to buy a few ounces of tea to take home. Compared to previous days, which were already sparse, this number is even more bleak. Nhien made tea for Mr. Ba Nghi in silence, neither of them said much, just listened to the noise coming from the other side of the wall.

"It's too noisy," Mr. Ba Nghi finally said, taking a sip of tea, deliberately joking to break the heavy atmosphere. "But you know, this noise will eventually pass. People were curious at first, but after a few days and a half a month, they felt normal again."

Nhien nodded, but in her heart she did not believe much in that consolation. She knows that the competition lies not only in attracting new customers to experience it once, but in completely changing the habits of an entire generation of customers - from spending half an hour sitting quietly next to a pot of tea, to buying a pre-packaged cup of tea, drinking on the go, without stopping, without slowing down.

At noon, Thuy Duong ran over, her face red because she had to squeeze through the crowd in front of her shop. "Oh my God, Nhien, customers lined up all the way to my bakery. This morning I sold only three cakes, usually the whole tray is sold out by this time."

"My tea room is the same," Nhien replied, trying to keep his voice calm.

Thuy Duong sat down on the chair, sighed, then suddenly held Nhien's hand tightly. "But I've thought, I can't sit still and suffer like this. Something has to be done. Our whole street, it's not just you and me that are affected, there are many other families too."

"What to do now, Duong? I still don't know where to get the money to pay the bank debt." Nhien suddenly blurted out what she had been hiding for the past few days.

Thuy Duong was stunned, her eyes filled with worry. "Bank debt? You've never told me this before."

Nhien told the whole story—the loan his grandfather had hidden, the debt reminder notice, the forty-five day deadline counting down the days. Thuy Duong listened, her face gradually changing from surprise to sadness.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? We've been best friends since we were kids, so we have to share everything with each other." Thuy Duong squeezed your hand. "Let me think of a way, there will definitely be a way. We can't let this tea room disappear, this is not only yours, but also a part of our memories."

Before Thuy Duong returned to the bakery, the two of them lingered in front of the tea room door for a while, looking at the crowd still lining up on the other side. Among the employees wearing blue uniforms, Nhien noticed a young man, probably around her age, wearing a simple white shirt that was different from the colorful looks of the rest, walking back and forth, checking each corner of the bar, occasionally stopping to briefly chat with the employees and then nodding. His appearance was calm, different from the ostentatious excitement of the opening atmosphere around him, as if he was observing everything with a cautious look rather than a proud one.

"That guy must be the new manager," Thuy Duong commented, squinting her eyes. "It looks decent, not what I initially imagined. I thought people who worked for large corporations must be very flashy."

Nhien didn't answer, just nodded slightly, his eyes accidentally met that man in the exact moment he looked up towards the tea room - perhaps out of curiosity at the old wooden sign that was in complete contrast to the shiny shop where he was standing. Their eyes met for less than a second, short enough that neither of them had time to react clearly, then he turned away and continued his work. Nhien also turned inside, not thinking any more about that fleeting moment, although there was a vague, hard-to-name feeling in her heart, as if something very small had just moved.

In the afternoon, when the noise outside had subsided somewhat due to the sudden downpour of rain, Nhien sat alone in the tea room, watching the raindrops pattering on the curved tile roof, flowing in streams along the old gutters into the yard. The sound of rain mixed with the sound of bamboo wind chimes created a familiar, gentle song, calming her heart somewhat after a tumultuous morning.

She took out her phone, checked her email again, and saw a new notification from the bank — a copy of the detailed schedule of the collateral disposal process if the debt was not paid on time. She skimmed through it, and the familiar feeling of heaviness welled up in her heart. Forty-five days have passed in three days. Forty-two days left.

She put down the phone and looked out the window, where raindrops were still falling steadily. In that dim rain, she saw the silhouette of Suong Mai Tea Lab's neon sign still shining brightly, its brilliance not diminished by the rain, in complete contrast to the old wooden sign above her head, now drenched in rain, the calligraphy fading over the years.

Nhien closed her eyes, took a deep breath, letting the smell of tea, old wood, and rain blend together, seeping into each breath. She thought about the promise she made to her grandfather, about what he had passed on to her during the seventeen years they lived together, about the precious silence that this teahouse brought to anyone who crossed the threshold.

She doesn't know what the road ahead will be like, she doesn't know what the new faces that will appear in her life will bring — challenges or opportunities, or both are so intertwined that they cannot be separated. She didn't know if she had enough strength to fight against a large corporation, manage a huge debt, and maintain the morale of an entire street that was anxiously watching her every step. But when she opened her eyes and looked around the tea room - where every little corner bore the mark of her grandfather's hand, where every kettle, every cup kept thousands of stories of the people who had sat here - she felt a clearer determination than ever.

“I won't let it disappear, grandpa,” she whispered, her eyes focused on the altar in the corner of the room. "I don't know what to do next. But I will find a way, even if I have to learn everything from the beginning."

Outside, the rain was still falling, the music from Suong Mai Tea Lab had completely stopped because the visitors had gradually thinned out with the afternoon rain. But the neon lights still shine, like a quiet reminder that the battle to keep this tea house at the end of the street has just begun, and Nhien, although not knowing who he will meet or what secrets he will discover on the journey ahead, still chooses to stand firmly at the threshold of the legacy his grandfather left behind, ready to face whatever awaits him.