The morning breeze in Jiangcheng smelled of roasting sesame cakes, river mist, and blooming osmanthus.
Autumn sunlight spilled across the polished granite courtyard of the Grand Golden-Plume Luxury Plaza.
Twelve months ago, this square was the playground of arrogant young heirs. Sports cars blocked the crosswalks, and private guards chased away delivery workers.
Today, the entire plaza was the welcoming pavilion for the Taichu Sanctuary Anniversary.
Red silk banners fluttered between the camphor trees. Celestial spirit-lanterns floated above the fountains, chiming like silver bells. Thousands of local citizens walked along the clean paths, sharing sweet osmanthus pastries.
Near the central fountain, two figures in bright orange sanitation vests crouched behind a stone planter.
Both of them held stiff bamboo brooms.
Both of them wore thick rubber gloves with holes in the fingers.
