The sun had dipped low, painting the rooftops of the capital in amber light when the Empress and her group returned to The Whisper Bowl. The air was cooler now, carrying the faint scent of roasted chestnuts from nearby stalls.
As soon as they entered, a quiet sense of calm settled over the restaurant. The noise of hammers and saws had faded with dusk, and instead, the newly freed workers filled the upper floor — resting, washing, and changing into the clean clothes delivered earlier.
When the Empress climbed the stairs to check, she stopped at the sight before her.
The people who, only hours ago, had looked broken — their faces dull with fear and hunger — now sat together, freshly bathed, dressed in soft linen clothes, eating small bowls of rice and soup. The dim lantern light made their eyes glimmer with something almost forgotten: hope.
Yao Qing came up beside her, smiling faintly. "They look human again."
