The heavy oak doors of Courtyard No. 1 swung shut, sealing out the winter wind.
Inside the main living pavilion, the bronze heating brazier burned with crackling peach-wood charcoal. Sweet, warming steam drifted up from Grandma Chen’s clay tea pot, filling the room with the fragrance of dried jujubes and roasted barley.
Xiao Fan and Lin Wan’er sat on the cushioned wooden benches, their new Thunder-Silk tunics rustling softly.
Even though their frostbite had healed completely and their cultivation had reached Rank 4 Early Qi Gathering, the two teenagers still held their porcelain bowls with both hands. They held the cups close to their chests, savoring the gentle warmth as if they still feared waking up back in the snow.
Grandma Chen placed a large platter of fresh pan-fried beef dumplings on the table between them.
“Eat up, children,” Grandma Chen said softly, patting Lin Wan’er’s braided hair. “In this house, nobody has to beg for food. If the plate is empty, I fry more.”
“Thank you, Grandma Chen,” Lin Wan’er whispered. A single tear rolled down her cheek, dropping into her tea.
Xiao Fan took a small bite of a dumpling, his throat tightening with emotion. For three years, their standard winter meal had been frozen turnip peelings mixed with coarse chaff.
