A distant, faraway gaze…

I made an appointment, and Mr. Huynh Thoan (the grandson of Mr. Huynh Thuc Khang) said, "Come early for coffee." I was on business, so I stopped by. It's been almost 15 years, and now I finally get to sit here for a while longer…

Mr. Huynh Thoan (grandson of Mr. Huynh) is in charge of maintaining the Mr. Huynh Memorial House. Photo: T. Viet

Listening to the wind from the top of Son Ve mountain.

Mr. Huynh Thoan (the caretaker of the Huynh Thuc Khang Memorial House) still has a bright, broad smile and sharp eyes, as if mocking his age of 82. His house is across the street, right next to the Huynh Thuc Khang Memorial House.

He said, "Wow, you're only just coming to this house now? I built this house after 2016. This ^300m² plot of land was given back to me by the government, essentially taken from the ^2,000m² of the memorial house. It's a long story…"

He opened the door to the Huynh Memorial House. The wind from the top of Son Ve mountain swept down, seeping through the walls and door frames. The table where he and I sat drinking tea had a small sign that read "Recording in the Memorial Book," facing directly towards the gate. He said that a long time ago, Tien Phuoc district suggested changing the gate's position, moving it a little further down, so that you wouldn't enter directly from the middle of the house, but he said no, he preferred to keep it as it was in the old days.

When he saw me off, he stood right at the gate with me and told me the legend that the peak of Son Ve Mountain has a stone table where fairies play chess and a well that never runs dry.

I looked at the mountain and blurted out, "It's right that you refuse to change the gate. Those ancient Confucian scholars, like Mr. Huynh, knew feng shui and numerology like the back of their hand. The gate faces the lowest point of the mountain's slope, as if the mountain range runs towards here, stopping before your house to rest, then continuing on. According to feng shui, this is an auspicious location. Interpreting it according to people's interpretation, it points directly to the highest point of the mountain, meaning the house's main entrance is blocked…"

He said, "I heard my father, when he was alive, say that the feng shui of our house was excellent."

Last will and testament

I once had the opportunity to see the will that Mr. Huynh left to his descendants. It was a will that Mr. Huynh translated from the original Chinese text, written in Hue on September 11th, 1943 (the year of Quy Mui).

Ten handwritten pages, containing many things, but specifically regarding the worship and preservation of this ancestral home, it was entrusted to Mr. Toan (Thoan's father, who called Mr. Huynh his grandfather) to maintain and worship. Mr. Toan has passed away, and now it's Mr. Thoan's turn, and he is already that old...

“So what are you planning to do?” I asked Mr. Thoan. It was just the two of us in the quiet stillness of the house. “Before my father passed away, I had a certificate made stating that I was his only son, as a precaution.” “Did Mr. Toan give any instructions?” “The old man told me to take good care of the house, no matter how difficult it is.”

Then he mused, "I've kept the house, even though it's a national memorial site, a special historical monument managed by the State, I understand, but the house and land documents here are currently in my name, managed by my family. I wish to bequeath it to my son." "Are you worried?" "I'm not worried, and I have great confidence that my children and grandchildren will preserve the legacy left by our ancestors. To be honest, I dream about it; I don't see Mr. Huynh, but my father sees it constantly, and he tells me to keep the house safe."

He said he wasn't worried, but I could sense a hint of heartfelt longing in his words, a wish that had been passed down and preserved. Family traditions remained, at least at his house. Many times I witnessed him stepping aside when important guests came to pay their respects to Mr. Huynh. Some would offer greetings, others would light incense and then leave. I tried to observe his movements, to see if he would say anything. Absolutely nothing. The usual quiet, composed demeanor of a host accustomed to the bustling atmosphere of incense smoke.

One day, while riding a bus past, I saw him standing thoughtfully, gazing out at the mountains. It stirred within me the profound sense of a man who knew every brick of this place by heart, the birthplace of a great hero of Vietnam…

Preserving family heirlooms

I told him that preserving this house wasn't just about turning lights on and off, sweeping, and watching out for the sun and rain. "Yes, it's my grandparents' house," he replied. "I'm a descendant, and I light incense at the ancestral altar every day, not as a caretaker of a historical monument. This is our family heirloom. Taking good care of it is fulfilling our filial duty to our ancestors."

I know quite a bit about the story surrounding the so-called owner of the historical site at this house, and the authorities ultimately acted in a way that was amicable, creating a warm relationship between the two sides. Mr. Thoan said that one of his wishes was to place a shrine to his parents, Mr. Huynh, right in the memorial house, on the left and right sides, but he wasn't allowed to. The State, in its plan to support him in building his current house, also included a sum of money for him to take care of that. Well, so be it.

I looked at him, meeting his distant gaze once more. Unexpectedly, he said, "As for keeping this house, I'm content, even if I'm not here tomorrow. I've experienced enough hardship of a farmer's life, but at least my six children are well-educated, have stable jobs, and a comfortable home. I have nothing to worry about anymore."

Yes, I hope you don't worry, as future generations will always have a broad perspective on culture and its values, not to mention that this is the birthplace and childhood home of Mr. Huynh, a man who dedicated his entire life to serving the people with an unwavering spirit…

Source: https://baoquangnam.vn/voi-voi-mot-cai-nhin-3157126.html