Lord Tywin was still lingering in Clegane's Keep. He had many places left to visit: Goldleaf Bay, the newly acquired gold mine that Clegane had won in a bet; the mechanical noodle workshop run by Master Tobho Mott in Clegane's smithy; and the mountain lands being cleared and set ablaze by the vagabonds and peasants Clegane had recruited.
Not far from Clegane's territory, however, in Lannisport, the weather that morning was bright and sunny.
Lord Auren stood beaming in front of his newly completed Auren Noodle House, as guests streamed steadily through its doors. The first wave of arrivals were all his vassals.
Lord Auren's domain wasn't limited to Lannisport itself, he also held vast lands beyond the city. As the lord of the largest city in the Westerlands, with the largest population and the most extensive holdings, it was only natural that many lesser lords and landed knights would be under his banner. These nobles had all come to offer congratulations on the grand opening of the noodle house.
Outside the entrance, Maester Barlow in his grey robes and Jeyner Lannister, the Lord's master-at-arms and captain of the guard, personally greeted guests. Lord Auren, with his daughter Rosamund Lannister at his side, stood at the doorway accepting well-wishes.
The second wave of visitors were the wealthy merchants of Lannisport. As the largest port in the Westerlands, and the third largest in all the Seven Kingdoms, Lannisport housed many affluent traders. Their trade routes extended near and far: locally with the Riverlands, the North, the Reach, and Oldtown; and abroad with the island nations west of the Sunset Sea, the dark-skinned peoples of the far south, and the nine Free Cities of Essos to the east. Some even ventured to the great cities farther east, trading in fine wines and ivory.
Their businesses spanned all aspects of life, textiles, silk, porcelain, gold and silver, sculpture, grain, spices, cosmetics, even pets like cats and dogs. In a port with a thousand years of history, there was no shortage of deeply rooted wealth.
Although merchants had no real social standing in this era, despite their great wealth and contributions to society, without noble titles, they were still looked down upon by the aristocracy. Thus, receiving an invitation from Lord Auren was an enormous honor for any of them.
Naturally, every prominent merchant in Lannisport attended. This was a rare opportunity to get close to the Lord, whose power meant far more than mere money in this world.
With the first two groups seated, the multi-story noodle house was already packed to capacity. But most weren't really there to eat noodles, few had even heard of them before. Only those lucky enough to taste them during the half-day when Clegane's men were hawking noodles in the city knew what they were.
What truly drew the crowd was the desire to curry favor with Lord Auren, the supreme ruler of Lannisport. Nobles and merchants alike seized the chance to make an impression. Just receiving an invitation to this event was a badge of honor. What the establishment sold didn't matter, whether it was noodles or rocks, people would still line up to buy cartloads.
Outside, more guests continued to arrive. The second wave of merchants hadn't all made it in, and the third wave, composed of sea captains, foreign business owners, mercenary leaders, hadn't even started to enter.
Lord Auren had cast off all noble airs and was chatting amiably with those waiting outside: wealthy outsiders, mercenaries, wandering knights, and others.
He was filled with ambition, he dreamed of opening Auren Noodle Houses across the Seven Kingdoms and bringing unmatched glory to himself and his house.
His gracious reception left all the invited commoners, who held no titles, both grateful and exhilarated. Some had done business in Lannisport for over a decade without ever catching a glimpse of Lord Auren. Yet today, they stood mere feet away from him.
For this event, Lord Auren had extended invitations to any commoner in the city who had made a name for themselves in some particular craft or trade.
Surrounded by guests, all offering flowery praise, the noodle house stood as a symbol of refined culinary innovation in a world where the diet remained coarse and primitive.
Then came a sudden commotion, someone shouted, and all eyes turned.
A team of mercenaries came marching down the street. Leading them were four men, walking in pairs, each pair carrying an enormous chopstick, three meters long. The middle of each chopstick was painted bright red, with the ends in black lacquer.
The lacquer gleamed under the sun, flawlessly polished.
Each chopstick was as thick as a jousting lance and had to be carried by two men. At three meters tall, they were as high as the first floor of a typical house.
Each bore a prominent house sigil: the snarling three-dog emblem of House Clegane. Next to it, in golden script, was their house motto: Unmatched!
Behind the chopsticks came another four mercenaries, carrying two identical round stone stools, each weighing over a hundred pounds. Each stool had two evenly sized holes in the center, clearly meant to hold something, though their purpose wasn't immediately clear.
The eight porters were followed by several dozen fearsome-looking mercenaries clad in decent armor. Among them, one stood out, a hulking man with a massive head and a terrifying scar across his forehead. He wore a longsword at his side and a massive black bull-shaped helmet slung at his waist.
This was the infamous Chiswick of Lannisport. Once the top gangster across the city's eastern, southern, and northern quarters, he had since rebranded himself as the commander of the Warblade Mercenary Company. The men surrounding him were his former lieutenants, street bosses who had clawed their way up from the gutters.
The group totaled over fifty, led by a towering banner of House Clegane, the snarling three-dog flag. Beneath it flew the banner of the Warblade Company: a black background emblazoned with a blood-dripping cleaver. Back-alley thugs who couldn't afford proper swords had once relied on cleavers as their weapon of choice.
Residents peered out from windows and doorways, watching this unnerving procession. The massive chopsticks especially drew their attention.
After Lord Tywin had ordered all households to "replace iron with wood," families across the realm had to swap out iron basins, plates, knives, utensils, even forks and spoons, for wooden versions. Chopsticks had thus become a new fixture of daily life. Though not yet widely adopted, most people were at least familiar with them, especially among nobles and knights, who were expected to lead by example in adopting reforms.
Still, no one had ever seen chopsticks this long. The sight was unbelievable.
Lord Aurenhad indeed invited the Mountain to the opening, but since Lord Tywin was currently at Clegane's Keep, the Mountain had instead sent Chiswick as his representative.
Besides, the Mountain's infamous reputation might have scared off the guests.
Lord Auren didn't move an inch. As a noble, he had no obligation to show deference to the likes of Chiswick. He clearly wasn't thrilled about the visit, these men looked like thugs, all fierce eyes and murderous intent. Worse, many of them were recently pardoned death-row convicts.
Captain Jeyner Lannister quickly stepped forward to receive the guests.
Chiswick raised a hand, and his men halted immediately, disciplined, despite appearances.
Only then did Lord Auren breathe a small sigh of relief. He didn't need these ruffians causing trouble at a business he intended to use to build wealth and prestige.
Chiswick and his right-hand man "Foulmouth" led the eight soldiers carrying the stools and giant chopsticks to the noodle house. The crowd parted to let them through.
The stone stools were placed on either side of the entrance. The giant chopsticks were fitted into the holes, snug and seamless.
The onlookers burst into applause. Such oversized chopsticks as decorative signage, it was a true marvel! Even Lord Auren looked stunned and delighted.
" Lord Auren," Chiswick announced, "these stools and chopsticks are a gift from Lord Mountain for the grand opening of your noodle house."
He made no effort to use the Mountain's formal title, speaking casually and without shame.
"Thank you, Ser Gregor!" Lord Auren replied with a gracious smile.
"There's also this pair of chopsticks," Chiswick continued. "A gift from Lady Jeyne."
Foulmouth stepped forward, presenting an exquisitely decorated box. He opened it to reveal a pair of chopsticks, one end carved from green jade, the middle made of gold, and the other end also jade. They were engraved with the Lord's name and house crest.
"These are called the Jade & Gold Prosperity Chopsticks," Foulmouth said. "The green jade symbolizes vitality, the gold symbolizes wealth. The carvings represent your name and crest, together, they signify a prosperous noodle house and abundant fortune."
No one had ever imagined chopsticks could be so refined and elegant, with such auspicious symbolism, not even Lord Auren himself.
To the amazement of the crowd, it turned out chopsticks weren't just tableware. They could be grand signboards, artistic decorations, and heirloom-worthy treasures.
The Jade & Gold Prosperity Chopsticks were polished to a radiant gleam, the green and gold hues interweaving in perfect harmony. They were noble, tasteful, and brilliantly designed.
With top-quality materials, precise inlay techniques, and intricate craftsmanship, they instantly became a priceless legacy item, something worthy of being passed down through generations.
Many of the wealthy merchants present were stunned. Their concept of chopsticks, as mere eating tools, was instantly shattered. Compared to the gifts they had brought, this pair was truly unique, displaying thoughtfulness and creativity. It stood far above the rest.
As Chiswick prepared to leave on behalf of the Mountain and his wife, the third floor, filled with seated nobles and knights, was already being served.
One steaming bowl after another was brought out.
Next to each bowl of noodles was a small bowl of specially made broth.
The aroma of vegetables and spices from the soup wafted through the air, enveloping the entire floor in delicious warmth.
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