Colorful years

The twilight flowed slowly across the sky like an ancient kiln-fired glaze, tinged with a faint, melancholic blue-purple hue.

The neon sign of Yuxiang Pavilion swayed in the biting north wind, flickering like a hazy dream in the night. The light from the sign reflected the frost and ice patterns that had formed outside the window, turning them into a colorful patchwork of glass, shimmering with a cold and broken light.

Xiao Hong gently pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the shop window, her gaze sweeping across the narrow street. Across the street, the gilded revolving door of Fu Man Lou was emitting a dazzling display of jewels, like a greedy beast.

As the greeter bowed, a noblewoman in a mink coat slowly entered. The South Sea gold beads she wore on her ears shimmered under the lights, and their familiar amber color instantly evoked memories deep in Xiao Hong's heart.

That was three years ago, when her father was connecting the Wang couple with a jeweler. The warm, lustrous sheen under the appraisal lamp was like her father's endless love and expectations for her.

"Ah Hong!" A hoarse voice called from the kitchen. It was her mother's voice, carrying the spiciness of stir-frying and the bitterness of life, piercing through the heavy curtain and striking Xiao Hong's heart. She turned and went into the kitchen. On the cutting board, the dark red cross-section of the chopped chili fish head lay there quietly like an ominous mark.

The dark red color was just like the way her father looked on New Year's Eve last year, clutching the blood-stained handkerchief in his palm. The blood on that handkerchief was the mark left by his sacrifices for the family. Xiao Hong felt a pang of sorrow in her heart; she seemed to see her father's kind yet weary face again.

Just then, the golden sandalwood prayer beads on the landlord Old Zhou's wrist rolled over the account book, making a soft sound. Each bead on the beads was round and smooth, emitting a faint sandalwood fragrance. A sandalwood "wealth" paperweight weighed down the deficit, as if trying to suppress the heavy burden and hardship of life.

However, the word "wealth" was powerless to reverse the situation, and could only plow out furrows of fate in the dust on the table, telling of endless helplessness and sorrow.

Watching this scene, Xiao Hong felt a mix of emotions. She knew that this small restaurant was the foundation upon which her family depended for survival, and the culmination of her father's life's work.

The atmosphere in the makeshift negotiation room on the second floor was heavy and oppressive. Mold stains spread wildly across the wallpaper, like eerie totems, foreshadowing the coming storm.

Zhang Cong, Xiao Hong's lover, has been invited to attend tonight's business negotiations.

The restaurant's business improved slightly after Zhang Cong changed the name. This time, regardless of whether the collaboration succeeds or not, Zhang Cong is determined to make the restaurant thrive.

Wang Ying, the lady of the Wang family, had her jade bracelet on her wrist gently tap against the glass turntable, producing a crisp yet jarring sound.

The sound was like an alarm bell, reminding Xiao Hong of the impending crisis.

Inadvertently, Xiao Hong caught a glimpse of the aluminum tablet for stomach medicine in her mother's apron pocket. Its silvery-gray luster was even colder than the seafood scale her father used to use. She knew that her mother had worried herself sick over this family, and her body was already beyond repair.

"The bighead carp from Dongting Lake have scars on their tail fins from the wind and waves." Her father's voice suddenly rang in Xiao Hong's ears, like a call from across time.

She felt as if she were back in that frosty early morning, her father holding her hand as they sifted through fresh silver carp at the fish market. The fish struggled in the oxygen pump, their silvery scales splashing water droplets like pearls, which now condensed on the frosty ventilation pipes of the storage room, shimmering with a cold light.

Xiao Hong closed her eyes, as if she could feel the warmth of her father's palm, and his love and dedication to life.

The sudden sound of shattering porcelain downstairs broke Xiao Hong's thoughts. It was a porcelain bowl that her aunt had accidentally dropped while clearing the dishes. Blood bloomed on her aunt's cracked fingertips, the crimson blood as shocking as the penalty clause in Zhang Cong's contract.

Xiao Hong knew that the outcome of this negotiation would determine the fate of her family, and she had to be strong and fight for her family's last hope.

When Mother lifted the lotus leaf lid from the blue-and-white porcelain basin, a rich aroma wafted out. It was the scent of twenty-year-old aged perilla and galangal awakening in the boiling water; like ancient magic, they breathed life into the dish.

Xiao Hong gazed at the dark red pepper seeds floating in the white mist. They were like her father's last will, spreading out like sparks in the soup, burning with the hope and courage in her heart.

She suddenly understood the secret in the oil paper package her father had given her before his death—those miraculous seeds that could sprout in the saline-alkali soil were a symbol of her father's hope that she could face life with strength.

The moment Zhang Cong slammed down the abacus, the trajectory of the vermilion beads, like the tassel that slipped from his shoulder at graduation that year, foreshadowed the end of an old era and the beginning of a new life. Xiao Hong took a deep breath; she knew she couldn't give up, she had to be the pillar of her family.

She looked out the window at the neon lights of Fu Man Lou, now extinguished, dripping blue condensate. The condensate, like the ever-lasting enamel on her father's trophy, shimmered with a steadfast light.

Xiao Hong stroked the twin lotus flowers embroidered on her cheongsam. The exquisite pattern was like the flower of hope in her heart, blooming proudly in the wind and snow.

She heard the sound of the Dongting Lake tide resonating in her blood with the clear tinkling of the abacus beads—the strength and courage her father had given her. The wind and snow swirled up fragments of gold leaf from the street corner, landing on her mother's trembling fingers as she served soup, as if the spotlights of the culinary competition had once again illuminated their world.

Xiao Hong knows that no matter how rugged the road ahead may be, she will walk hand in hand with her family, fearless and undaunted, simply because they hold deep love, hope, and an indelible dream in their hearts.

Although the negotiations failed due to Wang Ying's overly harsh conditions, Zhang Cong made a quick decision and dialed General Manager Yang of the Broadcasting and Television Media: "General Manager Yang, tomorrow's advertising campaign will proceed as planned."

"Director Zhang, rest assured, the filming and production team is definitely the best of the best," General Manager Yang replied firmly.