The steaming pan-fried buns soon arrived, along with half a crispy roast duck, its skin a glossy red and fragrant with fat.
The elderly Chinese man stood beside the table, rubbing his hands. He still looked somewhat ill at ease and shaken, but his gaze was full of gratitude as he looked at Lynn.
He spoke in Chinese with a thick southern accent. "Thank you so much for today. This meal is on me, young man. If it's not enough, I'll make some more."
"You're too kind. Those are separate matters. We already paid for the meal."
Lynn smiled and replied in fluent Chinese, picking up his chopsticks and placing a plump pan-fried bun on the small plate in front of John.
Seeing Lynn insist, the old man said no more. He simply returned to the kitchen and soon brought over a large bowl of seaweed and egg drop soup before going to attend to the few other customers.
John rested both hands on the edge of the table, his blue eyes studying the food on his plate curiously before turning to Lynn.
"What did that old man just say?"
John asked softly.
He could remember every syllable the man had pronounced, but he still did not understand what they meant.
"He was thanking us."
Lynn picked up the small spoon beside him and poured out a little aged vinegar. "Go ahead. Careful, it's hot. There's broth inside."
John copied Lynn and picked up a pair of chopsticks.
His grip was a little clumsy, but with the extraordinary coordination his superhuman body afforded him, he managed to pick up a bun securely after two tries.
He gently bit through a little of the wrapper, and rich, savory-sweet meat juices instantly filled his mouth.
The scalding temperature could not hurt his mouth at all, but he had never experienced that combination of spices and meat before.
"How does it taste?"
Lynn picked up a piece of roast duck and dipped it in sweet bean sauce.
"Amazing."
John chewed carefully. "Much better than those steaks specially supplied to the President's Office. Lynn, is this what food tastes like where you're from?"
"Some of it."
Lynn looked out at the bustling street. "Huaxia is huge, and there's lots of good food. If we get the chance someday, when Vought International is no longer a problem, I'll take you back for a visit."
John's eyes brightened slightly at those words.
He swallowed his food, his tone turning firm. "Lynn, I want to learn the language of your homeland."
Lynn was a little surprised. "Why do you suddenly want to learn it?"
"Because I want to understand what you say in your dreams."
John lowered his head to look at the vinegar dish, his voice muffled. "And when you were talking to that old man just now, I couldn't understand anything. I don't like that feeling. It makes me feel like you're very far away."
Warmth filled Lynn's heart. He knew the intense insecurity deep inside this boy.
"All right."
Lynn smiled and nodded. "Once we're back, I'll set aside half an hour every day to teach you Chinese. But it's much harder to learn than English, so don't get fed up with it later."
"I won't."
John immediately raised his head and gave him a satisfied smile.
They ate slowly and quietly.
The clamor of the busy streets around them did not disturb the warmth at their table. Instead, it made the perfect background noise.
Once they had eaten and drunk their fill, John glanced at the kindly old man saying goodbye to them. His eyes flickered, and he seemed to think of something. Suddenly, he clutched his stomach. "Lynn, my stomach suddenly feels funny. I'm going to the bathroom! I'll be quick!"
Before Lynn could react, he vanished from everyone's sight.
The elderly Chinese man's eyes widened in shock. It was not because of John's super speed-he had already seen John squeeze an iron ball with his bare hands-but because he wondered whether the little boy felt ill from eating his food.
Noticing the old man's panic, Lynn hurried to reassure him. "Don't worry, sir. He's very healthy. He never gets sick."
"But..."
The elderly Chinese man wanted to say more, but Lynn had already walked away.
One minute later.
Lynn held John's hand as they strolled slowly through Chinatown.
They did not use super speed to travel again. Instead, like an ordinary father and son, they walked several blocks in the night breeze, then hailed a yellow taxi back to the Long Island Estate.
The two-day weekend passed in a flash.
On Monday morning, the underground activity room in Area C of Vought Tower bustled with life again.
The lesson Lynn had arranged for Vanguard Camp today was somewhat unusual. It was neither physical training nor practicing smiles for the camera, but a relay game in which no superpowers were allowed.
Several lanes had been marked out with white tape on the activity room's floor mats, with baskets full of colorful plastic balls at the far end.
"The rules are simple."
Lynn stood beside the starting line with a stopwatch in hand. "Run from here to there. You can only take one ball at a time, and you have to bring it back to the empty basket at the starting point. During this process, Reggie can't use super speed, Tommy can't use telekinesis, and Annie mustn't get so nervous she starts glowing. If anyone slips up and uses their powers, the entire team has to return to the starting point and begin again."
The four children stood behind the starting line and exchanged somewhat nervous looks.
They had grown used to relying on their gifts in the laboratory. Suddenly being asked to run errands like ordinary children left them at something of a loss.
John was serving as referee today, standing at the end of the lanes in a lightweight tracksuit.
"Ready?" Lynn pressed the stopwatch. "Go!"
Reggie was the first to rush out.
He instinctively wanted to accelerate, but after just one step, he remembered Lynn's rules and hurriedly forced himself to slow down.
It made his running look terribly awkward, like a rabbit with its legs tied together. Several times, he nearly tripped over his own feet.
"Keep your balance, Reggie. Watch the path ahead. Don't think about your feet."
John offered a gentle reminder from the finish line.
Hearing John's voice, Reggie took a deep breath and slowly adjusted his stride. At last, he successfully picked up the first ball and ran back.
The baton passed to Annie.
The little girl pressed her lips tightly together and ran forward on her short legs.
Halfway there, her foot slipped, and she fell hard onto the mat.
The pain in her knees instantly brought tears to Annie's eyes, and that golden glow instinctively began to form in her palms.
But when she looked up, she saw John crouching at the finish line, watching her encouragingly.
"Don't be afraid, Annie. Get up on your own."
John's voice was quiet, but it carried steadily to Annie's ears.
Annie sniffled and forced the light back down in her palms.
She pushed herself up with both hands against the mat, dusted off her skirt, and limped onward. After grabbing a colorful ball, she persevered and ran back to the starting point.
Tommy quickly took the ball and put it in the basket, then carefully helped Annie sit down to one side.
"Well done, Annie."
Lynn walked over and ruffled the little girl's hair. "You're much braver than I imagined."
The game continued in fits and starts.
These superpowered children, who usually stood high above everyone else, were now all working hard to restrain their instincts so they would not let their teammates down, learning to feel the weight and genuine exhaustion that came with an ordinary body.
Lynn walked to the activity room's floor-to-ceiling windows, picked up his coffee cup, and took a sip.
Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting warm patches of light on the natural wood-colored floor.
Watching the children drenched in sweat yet smiling happily, he began considering what extra dishes to give them for lunch.
Before you continue