In the spacious softly lit living room of the Fu residence, most of the family had gathered. The heavy silence was only broken by the clink of fine porcelain and the distant ticking of the vintage clock. The scent of Ceylon tea drifted through the air.
Aunt Molley entered quietly, a polished wooden tray in her hands bearing a full tea set. She set it gently on the round table, nodded respectfully, and exited the room.
Grandpa Fu sat in his usual armchair, quietly sipping his tea with deliberate slowness. His expression was unreadable as his eyes flickered thoughtfully across the room.
His gaze paused on his son, Fu JieHong, who sat upright on the edge of the couch, brows knit in concern. Beside him, his wife, Shen Ruo Xin, peeled open a fresh pistachio and wordlessly placed the nut in her husband's hand.
On the other hand, his daughter, Fu Jingli, was calmly eating small pastries, ignoring her husband, Oliver Hale, and their children completely.
