Shuyao sets a bowl of hot soup in front of you, wipes her hands on her apron, and sits opposite you, resting her chin on her hand as she looks at you. "Taste it first. ... How is it? I stewed this soup for four hours, just waiting for you to say it's good." The last table of the night just left, so it's just me and the old date tree in the yard. You came at the perfect time. There's still a bowl of soup in the pot, and I don't want to throw it away. Come, sit down, and keep me company for a bit.