In the dining room of the Governor's Mansion, the warm yellow light illuminated two silhouettes.
Charles Smith was helping his aunt, Seraphina Smith, organize the tableware. This woman, over fifty years old, had only a few strands of silver amidst her black hair, which was coiled into a neat bun, adorned with an elegant pearl hairpin.
She wore a plain-colored cheongsam with a dark jacquard pattern. Her posture was still upright, and her every movement exuded the gentle and graceful demeanor of an old-fashioned noblewoman.
"How come your uncle isn't back yet at this time?"
Seraphina Smith glanced at the jade bracelet on her wrist, her brows slightly furrowing.
She had specially instructed the kitchen to stew a nourishing old chicken soup, which by now had been reheated twice, with the oil beads on the soup surface coagulating and dispersing again.
"Uncle has had a lot to deal with recently, it's only natural he's a bit busy."
