Dao Tien women dye their hair indigo in the spring.

Amidst the hazy mist of the highlands, as the apricot blossoms begin to illuminate the hillsides of Tan An commune, Mrs. Ban Thi Giang and the women of Tan Cuong village are busy at their looms. In the midst of a digital age, they are continuing to write the story of their cultural identity with needles and threads, with their honest hearts and the smartphones that connect them to the world.

Ms. Ban Thi Giang and other women in the product display area of ​​Tan An commune.

The marvel of age-old "cryptography"

I arrived in Tan Cuong early one morning, when the fog still clung to the old pine trees. In the traditional house of Mrs. Ban Thi Giang, fragrant with the smell of wood smoke, the clacking of the loom sounded like the heartbeat of the village. The Dao Tien people in Tan An don't define beauty by brilliance. For them, beauty is patience. On a piece of rough linen fabric, Mrs. Ban Thi Giang—an artisan deeply devoted to embroidery—shared her thoughts.

Mrs. Giang carefully held the headscarf, meticulously embroidering a square, dignified image. She explained that this was the most important detail: the seal of King Ban Vuong. “This seal is the soul of our Dao people. Embroidering it on the scarf is to affirm our origins, so that our ancestors will always protect the minds and intellects of our descendants, keeping them clear and wise,” Mrs. Giang confided in a warm, gentle voice. Turning over the fabric, I was amazed by a meticulously crafted system of patterns mimicking the natural world . On the linen cloth, the animals were embroidered in a solemn order: centipede, worm, snake, dragon, bird, and octopus. The front of the garment was embroidered with the image of the divine dog Ban Vuong – the ancestor of the Dao people; the back was adorned with vibrant rice plants and butterflies; and the sleeves were embroidered with the entire spring season, with its grass, trees, and flowers. Particularly striking were the eight to ten sparkling silver buttons and seven coins on the back of the garment. For the Dao people, the coin is not just jewelry, but also a protective amulet to ward off evil spirits and keep the wearer safe amidst the mountain winds.

Mrs. Ban Thi Giang by her loom.

"Closing the deal" with an honest stomach.

Today, the story of preserving the craft in Tan Cuong is no longer confined behind the old curtain. Mrs. Giang's embroidery corner now has a phone stand, a "bridge" bringing brocade to the streets. While I was admiring the exquisitely embroidered leggings, priced at over a million dong, her phone suddenly vibrated with a livestream signal. A customer from the South asked through the screen: "Grandma, why is this dress 7 million dong? It's faster to embroider by machine, why bother with hand embroidery which is so much work and yet the price is so high?"

Ms. Giang calmly brought the linen fabric close to the camera so that the customers could clearly see each thread:

"Oh, don't say that, it makes my heart ache. How could the machine dye such a deep indigo color, how could it create such a curved drop of beeswax like a wave? The wave shape symbolizes the connection between yin and yang, my dear!"

The customer then inquired about the durability of the outfit, to which she confidently asserted: – “I had to dye this set repeatedly for half a year; even if it gets torn, the color won't fade. If you like it, I'll pack it up and send it to you right away so you can wear it in time for Tet (Lunar New Year)!”