Time flies.
The height of summer—August—flows away like water, gradually fading. The air remains oppressively heavy and unbearably hot, but the temperature difference between morning and evening begins to grow.
Occasionally, two or three birds fly across the sky, chirping and twittering.
Late August, inside the Han family home.
Lucy Han widened her big, dark eyes, barefoot and kneeling in the center of the bed.
Smack!
Lucy patted the blue bedsheet, lifted her little face, and called out crisply, "Come on, brother! Hurry up and get up here—play with Lucy!"
"No."
Andrew Han stood below the bed with his hands behind his back, practicing martial arts.
By now, his martial practice no longer clung to any rigid form. Raging Downpour had reached Mystic-Communion; Southern Thousand-Mile March and Three-Thousand Flowing Winds had also reached Mystic-Communion.