The waiter returned with a quiet, practised smile, carrying two wide trays stacked with steaming dishes. He lowered them onto the turning glass table one by one, braised short ribs glistening with a dark, glossy sauce; a platter of shrimp cooked in butter and garlic, sprinkled with chopped parsley; bamboo baskets filled with handmade dumplings that released little clouds of steam; and a deep bowl of herbal chicken soup with jujubes floating on top. The warm aroma spread quickly, filling the private room with the comforting scent of a well-run family restaurant.
Micah's eyes lit up immediately. Before the waiter even fully withdrew, he grabbed the serving chopsticks with the enthusiasm of someone desperate to score points.
"Older sister, try this one." He reached forward, scooping a generous portion of ribs and sliding them neatly into Willow's plate. "You've worked hard today. Oh, hold on, I'll peel the shrimp for you."
