Chapter 12 — When I Learn How to Bloom Again

The completed drawing... is just the first step. Next, comes the bigger challenge—making it happen. I need a good construction team. A team that can understand my idea… and bring it to fruition. I don't look for advertising companies that are full of them out there. Their styles are similar, heavy with commercial smell. I started searching professional architecture and design forums. See the work of famous independent designers. Research the construction teams they have worked with. It was a time-consuming process… but it also made me regain the same sense of focus and excitement I had when I was studying. Finally, I chose a studio called "Tinh Tam Tac Tac". Their works are not many. But each project... is as sophisticated as a work of art. The way they handle details, the way they understand materials... reach a very high level. I called the studio. The person who picked up the phone had a gentle, polite voice. After hearing my request, he said that their project director—Mr. Luc—had time this afternoon and could meet in person to discuss plans. We met at a nearby cafe. I arrived half an hour early. I printed out all the drawings and put them neatly in a specialized folder. Holding the drawing book in my hand... I suddenly felt nervous. Like a student about to take an important exam. In the past ten years, the most difficult problem I have ever solved... was just Chu Van Bac's taste and the dinner menu. And now, my work... is about to be evaluated by a professional team. I took a deep breath and told myself—Tan Tranh, you can do it. Exactly three o'clock in the afternoon. A man wearing a gray linen shirt appeared on time at the door of the shop. He is very tall, with a thin but straight figure. Wearing gold-rimmed glasses, exuding a clean, calm intellectual look. He looked around, his eyes stopping at the sketchbook in front of me. Then go straight ahead.

“Hello Miss Tan.”

He held out his hand, the voice was identical to the phone.

“I am Luc Triet Vien.”

"Hello."

I stood up and shook hands. His hand was warm and dry. Fingers are long and clean. Sitting down, I pushed the sketchbook towards him.

“This is my design plan, please take a look.”

He opened it and looked at each page very attentively. His expression is focused, sometimes frowning, sometimes relaxed. The cafe resonates with gentle jazz melodies. I took a sip of coffee, but inside I felt like a drum was beating. How will he judge? Unrealistic? Or amateur? A long time later, he raised his head. The eyes behind the glasses... clear and bright. He looked at me, with sincere appreciation in his eyes.

“Frankly speaking… this design is excellent.”

My heart beats strongly.

“Whether it's the way the space is organized, or the way the functions are divided... it's all very delicate.”

“Especially the drawing room on the upper floor, the way she utilizes light and landscape… almost reaches the limit.”

“This is absolutely… the level of a professional designer.”

His compliments… were not polite. Every word... falls in the right place. Like a rain... watering the part of my soul that has been dry for ten years. Not a social compliment. It's an accurate assertion... coming from a professional perspective. That feeling... makes me happier than any sweet words. That was the moment… one's own value was recognized. A deep satisfaction, spread throughout the chest.

"Thank you."

My voice trembled slightly.

“My college major… was interior design.”

“It's just… after graduating, it's been ten years since I did it anymore.”

Luc Triet Vien was a little surprised and gently pushed his glasses.

“What a pity.”

“Your talent… shouldn't be buried.”

That sentence... Like a ray of warm light, shining straight into the darkest place in my heart. Dispel all the darkness… and the doubts that had accumulated for ten years. I'm not useless. I can also shine. We talked for a long time. From design ideas... to materials... to construction techniques. Talking to you... is a rare comfort. He is professional, knowledgeable... and knows how to listen. There is no disrespect at all... because I have "not worked for ten years". In your eyes… I am a designer. A person… worthy of respect. That difference... compared to Chu Van Bac, is brutally obvious. In Chu Van Bac's eyes... My value... must rely on him. And in Luc Triet Vien's eyes... I... am already valuable. Before leaving, he looked at me and spoke very seriously.

“Miss Qin, this project… our studio accepts it.”

“And I hope… to be directly in charge.”

“Because I look forward to… working with you to turn an excellent design… into reality.”

Stepping out of the cafe, the sunlight was still bright. I held the sketchbook and walked among the people. Footsteps... lighter than ever.