The year was 1900, San Francisco. The jade dragon on Mei-Li's wrist gleamed like a trapped emerald under the gaslight halo of the Grand Central Station. Her satin qipao whispered secrets against her porcelain skin as she stood on the platform, a gilded butterfly poised for flight. Around her, the air vibrated with the frantic symphony of departures, the clink of luggage, the hurried goodbye kisses.
Awash in the brassy glow of the gaslights, thrumming with the restless energy of partings and anticipation of reunions. Amidst the throngs of travelers, porcelain faces framed in jade pendants and silk cheongsams glided with an air of practiced serenity.
The San Francisco train depot, all glass and iron, smoke and deep rumbling locomotives, pierced by screaming train whistles. Amidst the chiffon-draped ladies and top-hatted gentlemen, the Lu family stood out like a jade orchid in a field of daisies.