Devoted

Chapter 3

It was controlled, dignified chaos.

Lunch had been harried, with more guests than ever before, and very little time to breathe before the Afternoon Tea began at two thirty. This was when he was more pastry chef, working magic into his diverse creations, so every dish had maximum effects in style and taste.

Ye Zun had wanted each one so eye-catching they were ready to be photographed and added to a host of online platforms, making Dixing stand out, against the restaurants with foreign head chefs. All of them dainty and precise, with flavor and incandescent color at the center of the design, from his top selling Madagascar vanilla and orange nut boats to the rose tea infused ganache.

Everything was whimsical, built around to quote Ye Zun, "Mind-blowing shapes" and paired with tea from all over the world. It seemed that this three-year trend was only going to soar, with every place in China competing to be more alluring and more dynamic every year.

Six o'clock was a miracle each and every day, a reprieve from the chaos. Shen Wei stepped into the main floor of the restaurant and just breathed, rubbing his neck.

They had dreamed of this place for years. All through culinary schools, poverty and new jobs. It had always been their greatest triumph, joy and passion, weaving stories and history through every inch of the wide rooms. In the food they served. Dixing was blood and tears. Hope and the only home they had ever known.

It was his now. Ye Zun was present in every part, his presence with Shen Wei in every motion and decision. It felt off-kilter now. No longer home. He pivoted on his heels and walked further into the main room. The building had been a club in the thirties, with crooners and a dance area, more alcohol than food, mixing tradition with modern even then. When they had bought the run-down building, had needed to adapt their original vision, according to the space and cost.

So, the theme became Yin and Yang. The extrovert with a love of partying and gold. The introvert with a love of books and crafted dark wood. It was their love of period dramas, a little bit of glitz and functionality. A glossy black stone floor, with splashes of blue, startlingly white walls where at the back they had painted calligraphy in blue paint.

Spelling their names and the words that summed up their vision for Dixing, in one afternoon after work had ended. Ye Zun's half was white stone tables, gold and glass, with a hint of French chic. Shen's was the reverse with dark wood tables, lush plants, chrome and amber-like chandeliers that dominated the high ceilings. In the center was the revamped thirties bar top in white and black, with gold finishing.

He overlooked the long white stone table where the actress would dine in a few hours and moved into the other half, stopping at table twelve. The last time he had felt this nervous was the night before the restaurant reopened nearly a year ago. The first night without Ye Zun and the first time he had stepped in as Head Chef. A step he could only have taken thanks to Zhao Yunlan.

To say that the time after the park and before the reopening had been rough would be a ridiculous understatement. His nights had been spent with nightmares and guilt, plagued by dark memories of the brother he so desperately missed, while his days had been spent fighting to breathe.

The landlord had wanted Ye Zun's things removed from his apartment, as the lease was nearly up, the lawyers had been dragging their feet and the restaurant's survival was looking dire. Everyone, even his own staff had been ready to write Dixing off, some even walked saying that without Ye Zun there was no Dixing. Every blow had hurt, every loss had felt like his failing until he wondered if maybe losing Dixing was the right step.