The morning sun broke across the jade waters of Void Lotus Isle, painting the sea in warm amber light.
A sweet, savory aroma drifted from the garden terrace into the central citadel.
Claire Vance stood beside an outdoor brick oven, dusting rice flour from her hands.
Mina stood beside her, pressing shredded turnip, cured pork, and dried shrimp into shallow bamboo baskets.
“Press the edges firmly, Mina,” Claire said, smiling as she checked the coals. “Otherwise, the steam breaks the skin before the turnip softens.”
“Like this, Mother?” Mina asked, shaping the dough with her thumbs.
“Just like that,” Claire laughed softly. “Your brother ate four baskets of these every autumn before taking his morning nap.”
“He still eats four baskets,” Mina giggled. “Only now he makes Barnaby fry them in sesame oil first.”
