Chen Qing tidied himself up and went to the private dining hall of his courtyard.
Four dishes and a soup were already laid out on the table, steaming and fragrant.
There was a plate of braised pork knuckles, a bowl of steamed jade-green carp, a dish of stir-fried emerald sprouts, and a chilled crystal lotus root salad. In the center sat a tureen of creamy, rich soup made from old chicken and mountain ginseng, its surface dotted with a few bright red goji berries that made one's mouth water.
Chen Qing sat down at the table, glanced at Qing Dai standing by his side, and asked casually, "Have you all eaten? If not, why don't you join me?"
At his words, a faint smile touched Qing Dai's lips. "Thank you for your concern, Senior Brother. We've already eaten. Please, enjoy your meal."
Chen Qing nodded and, without further ceremony, picked up a piece of the pork knuckle and put it in his mouth.
