Morning light spilled gently over The Whisper Bowl, soft but busy. Inside the courtyard, bundles were stacked neatly—clothes, recipe scrolls, utensils, and sealed jars of spices. The air carried a strange mix of excitement and reluctance.
Today was the day.
The first group would leave to open a new branch in another city.
The freed slaves, now trained workers, stood in a straight line. Their backs were no longer bent, their eyes no longer empty. They wore clean uniforms, hands folded respectfully, expressions steady but emotional.
For many of them, this was the first time in their lives they were leaving by choice.
Lian An walked slowly in front of them, checking each face.
"You are not going as servants," she said calmly.
"You are going as representatives of The Whisper Bowl. Remember that."
They bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Benefactor."
Some voices trembled.
Yao Qing stepped forward, handing out small cloth pouches.
