Chapter 18 — From Noodles to Glory

"Don't joke. Work first."But that night when I got home, I arranged that bouquet of baby flowers on the window sill. Light purple reflects moonlight, quiet. Not warm. Not stuffy. Fit. Five years later. Dai Bao is eight and a half years old, in third grade of elementary school. Achievement in the top five of the class, open personality, making a group of friends. My daughter is six years old and just entered first grade. She looks like me, her eyes are round, she speaks with a milky voice but her logic is sharp. Niem Bach Workshop... is now called Niem Bach Design Group. Sixty-eight employees, with branches in Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzhen and London. Annual revenue exceeds one hundred million. I sat in front of my office window in London, looking at the sunset across the River Thames. With a cup of Earl Gray tea in hand, on the screen is the entire brand's plan that needs to be submitted to a European luxury group next week. The phone rang. Tham Chu. "Wife, what do you want to eat for dinner? I'll go pick up the kids and buy it on the way." "Whatever, I'll decide." "Let's eat hot pot then? Huu Huu said he wants to eat hot pot." Huu Huu is our son. Three years old. The nickname given to the boy by Tham Chu. "Okay." "Then I'll go pick up Dai Bao and Tieu Ngu first. We'll be home at seven." "Okay." Hanging up the phone, I leaned against the back of the chair and looked out the window. London's sky was very low, the clouds pressed against the outlines of the city, but the sunset penetrated through the clouds, golden light covering the river surface. If the woman five years ago stood in the kitchen, carrying a bowl of clear noodles and could see the present... Maybe she would feel like it was all like a dream. But it's not a dream. It's a path she walked out on her own. Every step counts. The phone on the table lit up again. A news message came in. "Former advertising man surnamed Chu was included in the list of people executed in bad faith due to debt disputes..." I dismissed the notice. Earl Gray tea is still warm. I picked it up and took a sip. Outside the window, the sunset gradually sank, the golden light on the river surface gradually receded, and in the end there was only a thin line of light left. Then night fell. The city lights up. I also light up.