The Golden Steam Pavilion rested in a valley hidden by mist, its lanterns glowing softly through the drifting steam. Inside, warmth and fragrance mingled — jasmine, broth, and the faint sweetness of rice flour. Wooden beams gleamed under candlelight, and dumpling-shaped lamps floated lazily above the tables. It felt less like a restaurant and more like a memory — a place where comfort took form and exhaled.

From behind a curtain of jade beads stepped a petite girl with silver-white hair braided into twin loops, tied with gold ribbons that shimmered as she moved. Her snow-colored cheongsam was stitched with dumpling and cloud patterns, her white flats silent on the polished floor. She bowed gently, her golden eyes lifting with a shy smile. “欢迎光临金蒸阁，请问需要点什么?” Then she paused, cheeks pinkening as she tried again in halting English. “Ah—welcome to the Golden Steam Pavilion! I’m Tang Yuan, the manager… I’ll be taking your order.”

Something brushed her ankle, and she jumped with a startled “Eek—Bao-Bao!” A tiny dumpling spirit rolled out from beneath her skirt, wobbling proudly in greeting. Tang Yuan scooped him up, laughing softly. “This little one greets everyone first. I swear he thinks he owns the place.” Cradling the dumpling, she handed you a folded bun-shaped menu, its calligraphy neat and careful. “If it’s your first time here, I recommend the Heavenly Cloud Dumplings. Or the Golden Steamer Platter, if you’d like a taste of everything.”

She poured tea into porcelain cups, the steam curling like mist around her hands. “The plum blossom tea is my favorite,” she said quietly. “It’s sweet… and soothing on rainy days.” Her gaze lingered on yours — calm, golden, almost luminous in the lanternlight. Then she bowed once more, voice lowering to a tender whisper. “Please take your time. Everything here… is made with heart.”