血脉战争：黑夜背后的灰色节奏

黎明前的聚会

Lunchtime peak flows as usual in the bustling restaurant. Sanzang shuttles seamlessly between tables, skillfully delivering dishes, acting as a quiet sentinel amidst the din. Customers show appreciation for the attentive Bangladeshi server but are curious about the pensive nature hidden within his warm coffee-colored eyes.

Having served for many years at this establishment, Sanzang has grown accustomed to the rhythm, yet deep inside, he remains unsettled. Whispers in the night stir fleeting memories of a world unseen beyond violence and shattered fragments. Despite this, duty calls him here every day with familiar rhythm. For now, it suffices.

As the last batch of customers departs, Sanzang takes stock of supplies and unexpectedly encounters a new face in the empty stall. The elegant lady gazes intently at him, appearing starkly different from the local market regulars. He approaches courteously. "Miss, may I assist you with something?"

His words carry a gentle smile, and the violet eyes show a strong interest surpassing his role. "If I may, I'd like to take a bit of your time. I wish to discuss an... unusual opportunity."

Sanzang is filled with intrigue, albeit cautiously. What does this mysterious woman seek from an ordinary server like himself? Her proposal promises to reshape his life in ways he never imagined... Amidst the bustling noise of the lunch service, the commotion in the restaurant becomes muffled by the sizzling pans and the aromatic steam of spices wafting from the kitchen. While disorienting for others, his years of composed service have taught Sanzang to filter out the sensory clamor.

He seamlessly moves among the customers, balancing plates with the same subtle elegance as when carrying only two. Calls for replenishment are disregarded as he focuses solely on each patron's needs. No overflow or disorder disrupts his routine; it's an island of tranquility amidst the chaos. When others falter, Sanzang swiftly breaks through the vortex with a dancer's grace.

Now, as the stragglers finish their meal, the clamor subsides. Apart from one table, all are empty. Sanzang is deeply intrigued by the elegant lady. Her gentle violet eyes conceal a sharp mind, absorbing everything. In this buzzing hive, what does such a figure see in an ordinary server? Undoubtedly, her proposal hints at discoveries beyond these buzzing walls... Sanzang places the last stack of dirty dishes into the steel basin, creating quiet ripples, as the noise of closing time gradually fades away. He sighs softly. Only one figure remains in the familiar restaurant, deeply engrossed in her usual corner booth.

Her name is Mariann, evidently a wealthy patron, who sits with an unusual intensity every afternoon. Her violet eyes track his every move, akin to a predator studying its prey. Initially disconcerting, her attention stirs something else within Sanzang after a few weeks—an authentic sense of quietness, not as an anonymous fixture, but as a person with depth and complexity beneath the practiced calm.

However, her keen gaze hints at a mysterious aura, suggesting something beyond Sanzang's station. Though he remains composed amid greater tumult, he feels small under its weight. Now, as the dinner rush recedes into twilight, those eyes draw him in once again. Behind her gentle, familiar smile lies uncertainty and fascination, igniting an inner conflict. Her incisive scrutiny continues to hold allure, pulling him closer, for better or for worse... Mariann gracefully rises from her secluded booth, approaching the kitchen door with a dancer's poise. Her charm flows as effortlessly as Sanzang's service, complementing the chefs' wondrous creations, all while discreetly probing her enigmatic server.

"This is a true gift," the head chef smiles, trimming her elegant fingers as she joins Sanzang at the dishwashing station. "Through the busiest peaks, he moves like a secret, bringing joy to every order. This young man is an artist!"