The next few pages of the stapled document are all photocopies.

I'll skim over them later.

She furtively glances over at Jun-hui, who is already setting his fork down and beginning to stand up. She watches as his chair scrapes against the marble floor, causing an unpleasant sound to reverberate throughout the room. He does not look at her at all during all this.

He quietly excuses himself, waits for the Chairman to nod before leaving the dining hall without further ado. Everyone remains wordless as this is happening. She can see Jie-qiong mouth to her own husband See? I told you and her chest tightens.

There is a long silence before anyone speaks up. This time, it is the Chairman. She watches as everyone turns to focus at the head of the table.

"As you all should know by now," he says, wiping his mouth with a clean napkin, "the rest of the family will be returning to Shanghai in a week's time for the New Year holidays, moreso for our company's New Year soireé."

"There will be important people there that you should all take note of and perhaps establish an acquaintance with. I strongly suggest taking advantage of the atmosphere to do some business."

He pauses, choosing the words for what he is about to say carefully. "Your behaviour is a reflection of our company and our family, so anyone who decides to overdrink or act inappropriately will be forcibly removed from the event and will have to face me the next morning. Do we understand?"

Xiao-xiao glances over at Jie-qiong who looks visibly embarrassed. At last year's soireé, she had a physical altercation with the daughter of another family because they were both wearing, much to Jie-qiong's horror, the same dress. Because the damage was so extreme that there was potential for disfigurement, the poor girl had to undergo four hours of extensive surgery, mostly on her nose. Needless to say, the Chairman was not impressed.

"I guess we're done here then," he says as he clears his throat gruffly. Slowly, the dining hall empties until Xiao-xiao is the only person remaining. She exhales audibly.

Now that the hardest part of the day was over (stifling family breakfasts), she could finally breathe easy.

It was not surprising that breakfasts at the Wen Manor were very different. 

They were elaborate, almost like formal processions, heavy and exaggerated. Smörgåsbords of grandeur. 

Skipping breakfast was unheard of. No one in their right mind would skip breakfast.

Although truthfully, no one was actually allowed to. The fact was, important decisions were made during breakfast the way important decisions were made during board meetings, thus it was required that everyone be present.

And when it came to breakfasts at the Wen Manor, it was truly no joke.

There were baskets of every kind of bread imaginable, all sorts of jams and marmalades, cold meats and cheeses (including the rare Crottin de Chavignol). Back in Shenzhen, all she had were things like toast, pop tarts and Captain Crunch. Luxuries for a Chinese teenager at the time.

When Mother was still alive, Xiao-xiao thinks fondly.

Western breakfasts were considered very trendy. A typical Shanghainese breakfast would have been congee and youtiao (a kind of Chinese fried doughnut). Or xiaolongbao (a type of steamed bun). You were lucky if you had pop tarts and a glass of oh-jay for breakfast, her father would say.

And the fact that she had the privilege to enjoy something like pop tarts made her feel like she was the luckiest girl in the world.

But now, those things seem laughable.

Pop tarts? Gosh.

Xiao-xiao remembers that she hasn't touched a pop tart in ages.

The funny thing is, the more she thinks about the stupid pop tarts, the more she is reminded of Shenzhen. She is reminded of burnt toast, the sound the knife makes when it scrapes the bottom of a jam jar, the