In June, Di City officially entered winter.
The northwesterly monsoon brought damp, chilly air. When the cold wind struck one's face, it seemed to carry the earthy scent of the Old World plateau.
It had even become one of the evening's themes at the dinner party.
As Kawahara Machiko drifted through the castle's banquet hall, she came to that conclusion.
Of course, it was only an illusion.
Separated by tens of thousands of kilometers and divided between the Northern and Southern Hemispheres, even if nature's elements subtly circulated and exchanged, ordinary people could never sense it. It was really just a group of fellow sufferers boasting, still shaken and excited after narrowly escaping death.
Even though nearly a month had passed—strictly speaking, three weeks.
The timing was just right.
Time had silently embellished the memories of those who had lived through it, washing away their embarrassment and fear. Against the backdrop of a relatively peaceful ending, the legendary nature of the process gave them plenty to talk about. They did not resist discussing those seemingly vivid personal experiences; they even enjoyed it, handing one another "comrade-in-arms" labels and medals until many detestable faces seemed rather adorable.
Well, perhaps a fair number of them were putting on an act for her benefit.
After all, the real theme of this banquet was a thank-you dinner for the donors to the Ronan and His Friends Foundation, following its official establishment.
The most dazzling figure at the banquet was not its largest individual donor, the foundation's honorary chairman, Di City's famous tycoon "Left Embrace Right Hug"... ah, Mr. Lang Li. Nor was it Quantum Corporation's Independent Director Mou Zhengye, who had come specifically to show support, much less Di City's so-called social elites.
The only people who could truly be called stars were Madam