When Pei Mother saw the food on the table, she looked as though she had seen a ghost.
Her son, Pei Hang, was at home, making breakfast for Qin Buran?
Was she sleepwalking?
"Don't eat yet." Pei Hang completely ignored his mother's expression and took Qin Buran by the hand. "Go wash your hands first."
Qin Buran was a little helpless. "I know. I'm not a three-year-old."
Pei Hang nodded.
It wasn't really his fault. It was purely instinctive.
He had looked after Qin Buran like this before, and he was used to it.
After Qin Buran went to wash up, Pei Hang even ladled out a bowl of tremella soup for him and set it across the table.
Pei Mother watched her son with a complicated expression. "...When did you learn to do all this?"
"A few years ago," Pei Hang answered offhandedly.
"A few years ago?" Pei Mother thought back carefully, her expression growing even more complicated. "Weren't you still going through your rebellious phase then, spending every day gaming at internet cafés?"
"A different few years ago," Pei Hang said.
"Huh?" Pei Mother asked. "How many 'a few years ago's do you have?"
Pei Hang sounded a little helpless. "Mom, what exactly did you come here for today?"
Pei Mother had endured far too many shocks that day, so she decided to get straight to the point. "Your dad says he has a project for you."
"Of course, it doesn't matter whether you take it or not. I won't force you," Pei Mother said. "It's mainly your dad who's still daydreaming, waiting for you to come back and inherit his business."
After all these years, Pei Mother had come to terms with it.
When Pei Hang was little, the Pei Family had raised him to be their