Her Terms

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Mei Xing stepped into the restaurant picked out by her mother for their brunch meeting, dressed in a pair of brown slacks, a crisp beige button-down shirt and a brown trench coat.

"Good morning, ma'am," a waiter approached her with a welcoming and polite smile.

"Good morning. I have a reservation under the name Mr Luo," Mei Xing said.

"Very well. Please follow me right this way."

Mei Xing, like her usual habit, admired the infrastructure of the building. Crimson lanterns adorned the ceiling, casting a soft glow on the ornately carved mahogany tables and plush red velvet chairs.

The brick walls were adorned with traditional ink paintings and colourful silk tapestry. It's no wonder her mother chose to dine here.

The aroma was something to drool over. Soon enough, they stopped by one of the many doors along the passage. The waiter knocked and opened the door for Mei Xing.