For a moment, the kitchen grew even quieter.
Old Master Chen turned toward her fully.
"Twelve courses."
His voice remained calm.
"Dietary requests were submitted through Mrs. Fang before Wednesday."
The woman blinked.
Old Master Chen continued.
"Mrs. Fang works in the east wing."
A pause.
"Until eleven."
The aunt opened her mouth.
Old Master Chen had already turned back toward the stockpot.
The conversation was over.
By the time he checked the broth again, the doorway was empty.
His youngest assistant stared very hard at a pile of vegetables.
Old Master Chen pretended not to notice.
By ten o'clock the China branch had begun arriving in earnest.
The residence gradually filled with noise.
Voices overlapped between courtyards. Children appeared in places they weren't supposed to be. A mahjong table materialized in the second courtyard despite nobody remembering who had brought it out.
