The next day.
"How'd this kid's grip get so strong in just a year? Is he really our son? Last night felt like a black bear tripped me, then locked its arm around my neck. Nearly choked me unconscious."
"I told you two to take it easy. Now look, you've hurt yourself falling."
Hearing her husband's words first thing in the morning, Zhao Lanxiang didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Father Lian sighed. "The boy's grown up. With that build, I say he ought to join the army..."
But halfway through, he noticed his wife's expression turning sour and hurriedly changed tack. "Oh, look at you. Let him study, then. Our son's always been smart, anyway. He'll make something of himself one way or another."
Zhao Lanxiang had risen early, boiled an egg for each of the three children, cooked several scallion pancakes, and made a pot of coarse corn porridge.
Hurrying to work, the couple ate as they talked. After a few exchanges, they had nearly finished the porridge in their bowls.
"I left the meat coupons on the table. You're the eldest, so go out at noon and buy some meat. Take good care of your sister and brother, and get yourself a couple of new clothes, too."
After those instructions, Father Lian took a big bite of a pancake and rode out of the courtyard with one hand on his bicycle's handlebars, his wife on the back.
Inside, Lian Youming had actually been awake for some time. Sitting cross-legged by the window, he glanced at the sun on the horizon, a sharp gleam flashing through his eyes.
There really was something to this Witnessing Art. Just as Yan Lingyun had said in her letter, practicing it at a suitable time not only caused no stinging pain,