Chapter 6 - The Banquet on the Flagstones
"It's me, Auntie Lin," Kenneth whispered, leaning forward and gently wrapping his arms around her frail, quilted shoulders, pulling her against his chest. "I promised you I would live. And I promised myself that if I ever grew strong enough to fight the cold, I would come back to find you."
The heavy glass doors of The Chrysanthemum Pavilion flew wide once more.
Led by Manager Zhao, six senior waiters in formal attire descended the marble steps into the freezing gale, their arms laden with stacked lacquer banquet containers, insulated stainless-steel soup tureens, and heavy ceramic bowls.
They set the containers down along the broad, flat granite balustrade bordering the promenade. As the lids were unlatched, a cloud of aromatic, nourishing steam billowed out into the winter night. The street was instantly enveloped in the intoxicating scents of slow-simmered herbal broths, roasted sesame, crisp scallion pancakes, and sweet steamed pastries.
Manager Zhao bowed low, offering a pair of hand-carved bone chopsticks and a porcelain ladle. "Chairman Shen... the kitchen has prepared our finest winter nourishing spread."
Kenneth stood up, taking the porcelain ladle and filling a deep celadon bowl with golden, steaming ginseng chicken soup, carefully checking the temperature with the back of his fingers.
He turned toward little Meimei, who was watching him with wide, awe-struck eyes from behind her grandmother’s coat.
Kenneth knelt before the seven-year-old girl, offering the warm bowl with both hands.
"Are you hungry, little one?" Kenneth asked, his stern, scarred face breaking into a radiant, gentle smile.
Meimei looked up at her grandmother. When Grandma Lin nodded through her tears, the child reached out with her small wool mittens, taking the warm bowl. The heat seeped through the yarn, warming her small fingers instantly. She took a sip of the golden broth.
A rosy, healthy glow rushed to her cheeks as the rich, savory broth chased away the bitter chill in her chest.
"It tastes like sunlight, Grandma!" Meimei beamed, a brilliant, gap-toothed smile lighting up her little face as she took a bite of a tender lotus leaf bun.
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Kenneth watched her eat, a profound, sacred stillness settling over his heart—a peace that none of his boardrooms, overseas acquisitions, or shipping empires had ever provided him.
Behind them, Manager Zhao stood with his hands folded, quietly instructing his security staff to collect every fallen peach-wood talisman and silk knot from the sidewalk, cleaning them with silk napkins and placing them reverently into a velvet-lined box.
