And Nia realized that this restaurant, which she'd once entered out of financial desperation, had become an important part of the life she rebuilt after losing her mother.
The staff organized a farewell dinner after closing.
Sofia returned from her new hotel job.
Several cooks stayed late.
The assistant manager brought flowers.
And Mei personally requested a special dish from the kitchen.
Peking roast duck.
When the enormous platter arrived, Nia stopped smiling.
For a moment, she simply stared.
The golden-brown skin gleamed beneath the warm lighting.
Thin pancakes sat beside neatly sliced scallions and cucumber.
The familiar sauces filled small porcelain dishes.
Almost exactly as they had on the evening Victor Liang mocked her.
Sofia began laughing.
"Oh, this is perfect."
Nia covered her mouth.
"You're all terrible."
Mei smiled.
"You served this dish professionally for years. We thought somebody should finally serve it to you."
For a moment, Nia looked toward the platter.
Then tears slipped down her cheeks.
Sofia reached for her hand.
"Hey. No crying before dessert."
Nia laughed through tears.
"I'm trying."
Everyone sat around the table.
The same private dining room that had once become the center of an extraordinary confrontation was now filled with ordinary laughter.
No billionaires.
No acquisition documents.
No frightened CFO.
Just the people who'd worked beside Nia during one of the hardest periods of her life.
The head chef carved the duck and explained how he'd prepared it.
For once, Nia didn't have to serve anyone.
She ate.
Listened.
And laughed when Sofia dramatically demanded a professional explanation of the dish.
Nia pointed her fork at her friend.
"Not a chance."
The entire table burst into laughter.
Then Mei raised her glass.
"To Nia."
The staff followed.
Mei looked toward the young woman.
"You came here when your life was difficult."
Nia's eyes filled.
The older woman continued.
"You worked hard. You treated people kindly. And you never acted as though helping somebody carry a plate was beneath you."
For a moment, her voice trembled.
"Now you're moving into another chapter."
She smiled.
"But I want you to remember something."
Nia looked up.
Mei continued.
"Your new title won't make you more valuable than you were standing here in that red dress."
Nia began crying.
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she stood and embraced Mei.
The room applauded.
And for the first time in years, Nia felt she could leave something she loved without feeling she was abandoning it.
Wei Tan retired from active board leadership the following year.
He'd spent decades helping build Jade Passage, and the events surrounding the acquisition had convinced him that the company needed a broader generation of leaders.