That night, inside the bedroom.
Lucy sat on the edge of the bed, her little legs swinging back and forth as she snuck glances at her brother Andrew Han, who was practicing martial arts.
Huff—
She tried to mimic Andrew's heavy breathing.
But Lucy's cheeks flushed red, her big eyes glistening with tears. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't imitate her brother's deep, airflow-like breaths.
By now, Andrew had reached First Rank, his strength nearly matching that of a true Martial Artist.
Even the breathing from his Solar Pillar Stance seemed to form a visible stream of air. After nearly four hours of practice, Andrew was feeling tired, and his breaths grew heavier.
Huff—
Andrew exhaled and relaxed from the Solar Pillar Stance.
The Mountain-Sketch Pillar Stance was much heavier and more profound. He had tried it, but without the foundation of mist-like Internal Power, even the most perfect posture was meaningless.
"Brother."
"Let me wipe your sweat."
Lucy hurriedly pulled out two tissues, stretching out her soft, fair little hand and passing them to Andrew.
Andrew took them, casually wiped the sweat from his forehead, and was about to go shower when Lucy timidly tugged at his sleeve, stopping him.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Did I do something wrong today? Mom seemed upset." Lucy pursed her lips and murmured softly.
"You could tell?" Andrew was surprised.
No wonder she's my sister.
When I was around four years old, I didn't have this kind of intelligence or emotional awareness. No wonder people say girls mature earlier.
"Mm-hmm."
Lucy tapped her temple with her finger, placing it gently on her lips. In a soft, tentative voice, she said, "Mom isn’t happy. I want to make her happy."
Andrew couldn’t help but laugh. "Haha."
Looks like Lucy’s vocabulary still needs some expanding.
Mom—Linda Chen—is probably just worried, not truly unhappy... Unable to resist, he scooped up his dazed little sister and gently pinched her delicate, porcelain-like cheeks.
Huh?
Why is my brother laughing?
Lucy blinked her wide, confused eyes, clearly unsure what was going on.
Andrew smiled warmly, his voice gentle: "I’ll talk to Mom about it later... By the way, she’s making kelp and pork rib soup right now. Later, you can have some with me."
"No, I won’t compete with you for the good food," Lucy declared in her soft, earnest voice.
"It’s fine, I can’t finish all that soup myself. I’ll need your help," Andrew replied cheerfully, tapping Lucy lightly on her forehead.
Her face, as delicate as porcelain, flushed a soft red, showing her lingering doubt.
After a moment...
Lucy looked a little sad, her voice soft and aggrieved: "But... but you’ll starve if I eat too much."
"Huh?"
Andrew stared at her, momentarily dumbfounded.
In a flash, he remembered the silly joke he’d once played on Lucy—telling her he’d starve if she drank too much soup, just to keep her from bothering him. He hadn’t expected her to remember it so deeply. For reasons he couldn’t quite name, Andrew’s heart filled with a gentle warmth.
"That was careless of me," he said.
Andrew looked at Lucy with genuine seriousness. "From now on, I promise I won’t joke like that again. Good food should always be shared. With you here, it tastes even better."
Delicious food and wonderful flavors—sometimes they make you forget everything else.
But what matters most is who you share it with; the dish itself isn’t important. It’s the company that truly makes a meal special.