We stopped in midair above the sign for District Eight. Some warmth returned to Isabelle Frost’s face, no longer as cold as before, and her mood seemed to improve.
"Let’s go down and get something to eat first."
I responded with a nod, then looked at Isabelle Frost in confusion. She landed on the street in District Eight, glancing around. There was a bustling food street here, lively and crowded. I followed her, noticing she seemed to be in a good mood now.
Just as we stopped in front of a grilled tofu stall, Isabelle Frost paused. At that moment, a Black-Clad Figure emerged from the ground behind us, holding a card and approaching.
We found a place to sit. To my surprise, Isabelle Frost ordered some wine and instructed the Black-Clad Figure standing beside us—like a servant—to fetch some meat from a nearby stall.
"I remember the first time he took me to eat grilled tofu. It was delicious—I still remember it. Back then, it was freezing cold."
I let out a surprised 'oh' and looked at Isabelle Frost. She started eating, chewing slowly as if lost in memories. Gradually, a trace of joy appeared on her face—a good sign. For a moment, the cold, stern instructor seemed to have vanished.
Isabelle Frost began drinking, glass after glass. The joy on her face grew stronger. I shook my head helplessly—there was a hint of similarity in the siblings’ personalities.
"Ms. Yi, that’s probably enough."
I put down my wine glass, glancing at the empty bottles scattered around the table. We’d eaten plenty—the food here really was delicious, with a deep, lingering flavor you never forget. And now, after eating, nothing was wrong with us at all.