The night was as dark as ink, speckled with stars. A crescent moon hung slantwise from the treetops, casting down a faint, silvery glow.
At the Ning Family Courtyard, dinner was as lavish as lunch had been—there were all the meat buns they could eat, along with a small bowl of bone broth boiled milky white.
The scent of meat filled the air, yet the atmosphere seemed several degrees heavier than it had been at noon.
Ning Dazhuang ate more slowly than usual, chewing with force. No expression could be read from his dark face, but whenever he glanced at Ning Chuan, there was a faint, barely perceptible scrutiny deep in his eyes.
Liu Lan silently served food to her children, her gaze moving quietly between her husband and son, carrying a trace of unease.
Only Ning Xiaohe remained carefree, holding a meat bun and eating it with relish, her little mouth glossy with oil.
In the end, Ning Dazhuang was the first to set down his bowl and chopsticks. He wiped his mouth with his rough palm, fixed his gaze on Ning Chuan, and asked in a low voice, "Xiaochuan, what are you planning with that bow and arrows you were fiddling with this afternoon?"
The air at the table seemed to freeze for a moment.
Liu Lan stopped moving, while Ning Xiaohe blinked her big eyes and looked at her brother.
Ning Chuan knew this was a hurdle he had to pass. He set down his chopsticks, straightened his back, and put on an earnest expression befitting his age. His tone was clear and sincere:
"Dad, Mom, this is what I'm thinking. The reason our family can eat meat now is because we sold that stone we found by accident. But that money... it'll run out someday."
After