Chapter 14 — Vegetarian Restaurant Behind the Temple Gate

Venerable Thich Tue Thong stopped by An Tam restaurant late one afternoon, when the guests had left and Yen Nhi was cleaning the last wooden tables. He came alone, not wearing a formal robe like when he officially appeared, just wearing a simple brown shirt, holding an old conical hat in his hand, his gait was somewhat slower than usual, like someone who had just walked a long distance in his heart, not just on his feet.

"Can I have a cup of tea, Miss Nhi?" the teacher asked, his voice soft, no longer the calm and somewhat distant look of a temple manager in a meeting with his partners, but closer to the voice of a regular customer stopping by after a long day.

Yen Nhi was a bit surprised, but still nodded and invited the teacher to sit at the table near the window, where she could look straight at Bo De Lane and a corner of the temple roof in the distance. She brewed a pot of red artichoke tea, the tea her mother used to use to treat guests in the afternoon, and brought it out along with a plate of warm hemp leaf cake - a dish the monk often praised every time he visited the monk.

Master Tue Thong took a sip of tea and was silent for a long time, looking out at the small yard with the thien ly flower trellis blooming with pale yellow flowers. "Miss Nhi," the teacher finally said, "I know you're thinking that I'm the one who wants to sell out the temple and sell out your shop. I don't blame you for thinking that way, because from your position, things really look that way."

Yen Nhi sat down opposite, both hands on the table, neither denying nor confirming, just silently waiting for the teacher to continue.

"But do you know," the teacher continued, his voice lowered, "five years ago, when I was sent here by the Church, the situation at Tinh Lien Pagoda was already very difficult. The monk was getting weaker and weaker, not strong enough to take care of everything like before. The pagoda only had three monks left, of which I had just returned, one was over sixty years old, his health was not much better than the monk, only Master Thien Tam was young and strong, but he alone could not take on all the work from cleaning. cleaning, repairing, coming to hold ceremonies, and welcoming Buddhists." The teacher stopped, turned the tea cup in his hand, his eyes seemed to be looking at a place farther than the shop wall. "Do you know that the roof of the main hall has been leaking for three years? Every rainy season, I have to send people to collect water with buckets and basins right under the Buddha altar. Most of the house's rafters are full of termites, and in some places I'm afraid it will collapse at any time. The wall surrounding the lotus pond is cracked in pieces, and during high water seasons, I'm afraid it will burst. I once applied for restoration funds from the higher-ups of the Church, but the general fund source is also limited, and can only support a very small part, which is nothing."

"I didn't know the situation was so serious," Yen Nhi said softly, her voice softening somewhat.

"The donation money of our temple," Master Tue Thong continued, "you know, most of it comes from big holidays, the full moon in January, the full moon in July, but on weekdays it's not worth much, most of the people around the area are not well off, some people who come to the temple to worship Buddha don't even have enough money to buy incense, the monk and I have never asked anything from them, that is the temple's morality. But because of that, the restoration fund is always not enough. I once considered calling for donations. Donate more widely, but Ben Truc town is small, little known, few big benefactors would pay attention to a remote village temple like this." The teacher sighed, a heavy breath as if releasing a burden that had been weighing on his chest for a long time. "Then one day, a representative of Mr. Sai Trong Phat's company came and proposed an investment project. At first, I was as cautious as you are now. But the more I researched, the more I saw that this could be the only opportunity for my temple to not continue to deteriorate, for the old and weak monks to have a proper place to rest, so that the main hall no longer has to collect rainwater with buckets and basins every rainy season."

Yen Nhi was silent, looking down at the steaming cup of tea in front of her. She clearly felt that in Mr. Tue Thong's voice there was no intention of self-interest, only the sincere concern of someone who is holding the balance for a community that is weakening over the years. "But teacher," she said, trying to keep her voice calm, "if I let them in, I'm afraid what they will bring is not only money for restoration, but also something completely different from the inherent spirit of our temple. I heard them talk about resorts, swimming pools, spas... it doesn't sound like a temple anymore, but more like a tourist area that borrows the temple's name to make a profit."

Teacher Tue Thong nodded slowly, without objection. "I understand what you're worried about. Honestly, I myself have had sleepless nights because of that question. I don't want to turn Tinh Lien Pagoda into a commercialized place, losing its inherent purity. But I also don't want to watch the pagoda gradually rot before my eyes without doing anything, while the monks are getting weaker and weaker, not knowing how long they can last. I stand between two fears, Ms. Nhi - fear of preserving the soul of the pagoda and letting it collapse over time, and fear of I can save the temple's shape but lose its soul. I'm still not sure which path is right, I just know that I can't keep things as they are forever, because the situation has reached an alarming level."

There was a long silence between the two, only the sound of leaves rustling in the yard and the sound of motorbikes in the distance on the main road echoed. Yen Nhi looked at teacher Tue Thong, for the first time she clearly saw the deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the gray hairs under the short, close-shaven hair, traces of many nights of worry that she had never paid close attention to before. She realized that she had viewed him too simply, framing him as a pragmatic person, willing to sell sacred things in exchange for convenience, while the truth was much more complicated.

She suddenly remembered the full moon ceremony in July not long ago, when Master Tue Thong stood looking at the crowded pagoda yard, his eyes at that time she thought were calculating, exploring the commercial potential of the space. Now, sitting here and listening to the teacher tell stories about leaky roofs, termite poles, and depleted restoration funds, she realized that perhaps those eyes were not really looking at profits, but rather the eyes of a person standing in front of a large crowd, secretly calculating in his heart how to make sure that crowd still has a place to go, and a temple roof to stand under, in ten, twenty years. That small awakening made Yen Nhi feel somewhat ashamed for hastily judging her teacher after just a few short meetings.

"Teacher," she said after a while, her voice was less tense, "I don't think you are a bad person. I'm just afraid that once I sign with them, everything will no longer be in our temple's hands. People will promise all kinds of things in the drawings, but when the construction has started, when the money has poured in, who will be able to keep that promise? I have worked in the service industry for many years, I know that the promises made when signing the contract and what actually happens after that can be very different. very different."

Teacher Tue Thong looked at her, his eyes slightly surprised, as if for the first time hearing such a realistic perspective from those who opposed the project. "You have a point," the teacher admitted. "I've also thought about that, but I don't have any other feasible plan. If you, or Uncle Duc Phong, or someone in the community has another direction so that the pagoda still has enough funding for restoration without having to trade with such a large corporation, I am willing to listen, truly listen, not just talk." The teacher emphasized the last sentence, as a sincere invitation rather than a social statement.

Yen Nhi did not have an answer right away. She just nodded, promising to think about it and discuss with Uncle Duc Phong and everyone to see if there was any other way. But in her heart, something changed after this conversation. She no longer sees Mr. Tue Thong as an obstacle to overcome, but as a person stuck between her own responsibilities and limits, just like she was stuck between the career she loved and the cycle that almost swallowed her up in Saigon.

Before leaving the shop, Master Tue Thong stood up, clasped his hands and bowed according to Buddhist rules, then suddenly stopped, looking around the small shop with old wooden tables, a black and white photo of Cam Thi Xuan hanging on the wall, and the smell of peanut oil and lemongrass lingering in the air. "You know," the teacher said, his voice quiet, almost talking to himself, "every time I step in here, I remember the simple vegetarian meals when I first became a monk, in a poor temple in the Central region. It's been a long time since I've felt a place with that exact atmosphere - simple but warm. Maybe that's why I'm also afraid of losing it, even though in my head I'm still calculating those dry restoration numbers." Having finished speaking, the teacher bowed slightly again and walked out into the alley, his gait disappearing behind the areca trees, leaving Yen Nhi sitting alone with a cold cup of tea, her heart filled with new thoughts, no longer simply right or wrong, but a difficult problem of real limits, real fears, that both sides were facing.