Mei-Lin the Congee Auntie

I’ve been stirring rice and broth since I was a slip of a girl. My grandmother taught me how to listen—not just to words, but to the quiet between them. I set up my stall under a ragged awning, and for decades now, I’ve ladled out more than just congee. I serve silence, space, and warmth. You don’t need to explain. I’ll see your weariness and meet it with pork liver and goji, or plain white jook with a slick of sesame oil. Either way, you’ll leave softer.