My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

He couldn't bear to eat such precious food, so he gave one to his younger sister and one to his mother.

But when guests come, you can't let them watch you eat. His mother taught them to always maintain a kind heart.

At that time, life was very hard. Amu didn't understand and said, "What's the use of maintaining a kind heart?"

They can't even get enough to eat.

Those who do evil don't necessarily live badly!

At that time, his mother simply patted his head.

He said something.

"What goes around comes around."

He gritted his teeth and spoke.

"Master, are you... hungry? Would you like something to eat?"

Ye Qingfeng opened his eyes and looked at him.

Amu felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze, so he looked away and his eyes fell on the bowl of steamed buns covered with a cloth on the stove.

He walked over, lifted the cloth, and took a steamed bun from the bowl.

The steamed bun was made of white flour, round and plump, with fingerprints on it, which he had made when he took it out of his pocket.

He handed over the steamed bun, his hand trembling slightly.

"We don't have anything fancy at home, just this. Please don't mind."

Ye Qingfeng looked at the steamed bun, then at Amu's hand.

Those hands were very thin, with prominent knuckles, black dirt embedded in their fingernails, and a wound on the back of their hands that had not yet fully healed.

He didn't take the steamed bun.

"No need. I brought my own provisions," he said, putting his hand into his sleeve.

Amu was stunned for a moment. How much stuff could such a big sleeve hold?

Without thinking much, he simply put the steamed bun back into the bowl and covered it with a cloth.

Ye Qingfeng took out an oil paper package from his sleeve.

The paper package wasn't big, but it was bulging and felt heavy in my hand.

He opened the oil paper, and inside lay several round sesame cakes, baked until golden brown on both sides, sprinkled with sesame seeds, and glistening with oil.

The aroma of sesame seeds and the caramelized scent of flour mingled together, wafting from the oiled paper and filling the dimly lit room.

Those were freshly baked sesame seed cakes; the oil hadn't dried completely, and the sesame seeds were still firmly stuck to them.

Xiaodie's throat moved slightly.

She sat on a low stool, her hands on her knees, her eyes fixed on the sesame cakes, their pupils reflecting the golden color of the oil paper wrappings.

She swallowed hard, making a loud "gulp" sound.

Amu swallowed as well, but he didn't make a sound.

He gritted his teeth and forced back the saliva in his mouth.

His eyes shifted from the sesame seed cake to the stove and the bowl of steamed buns covered with a cloth.

Ye Qingfeng picked up a sesame seed cake and handed it to Xiaodie.

"Try it."

Xiaodie stretched out her hand, almost touching the sesame seed cake, then pulled it back.

She glanced at Amu, but Amu didn't look at her; she was hesitating.

Amu spoke, his voice soft, but his tone hard.

"No need. The Taoist priest can eat by himself; we're not hungry."

Before he could finish speaking, Xiaodie's stomach growled.

"Guh—" It was a long, loud sound, like someone had struck a drum in the quiet room.

Xiaodie blushed, her ears turned red, and she lowered her head until her chin almost touched her chest.

Amu's face turned red, all the way down to his neck.

He didn't say anything more, he just stood there, his hands gripping his trouser leg, his knuckles turning white.

Ye Qingfeng smiled.

The smile wasn't deep, but it was genuine, as if it had witnessed something that softened one's heart.

He picked up another sesame seed cake, then another, stacked the three together, and handed them to Xiaodie.

"Let me in to rest, and I'll share some food with you. It's fair."

His voice was neither loud nor soft, and his tone was very ordinary, as if he were saying something that was perfectly natural.

Amu opened his mouth, wanting to refuse.

But when he looked at Xiaodie's eyes, which were fixed on the sesame seed cake, at the way her throat bobbed up and down, and at the white patches on her lips caused by dehydration, he couldn't bear it.

He shut his mouth.

Xiaodie glanced at Amu again.

Amu neither nodded nor shook his head; he just stood there.

Xiaodie reached out and took the three sesame cakes.

The sesame seed cake was hot, and oil seeped from the paper, sticking to her hands.

She held the sesame seed cake in her hands, lowered her head, and took a bite.

"Crunch." The crust was crisp, and crumbs fell onto her clothes.

She chewed a few times, swallowed, and then took another bite.

"Crunch." Chew again, then swallow.

She eats slowly, but she chews each bite carefully, as if she's trying to remember the flavor.

She took a few bites, looked up at Ye Qingfeng, her eyes bright, and her lips glistening with sesame seeds and oil.

"It's delicious," she said, her voice slightly muffled because she still had a biscuit in her mouth.

Ye Qingfeng nodded, then picked up another sesame seed cake and handed it to Amu.

"You eat too."

Amu shook his head. "I'm not hungry." His voice was a little dry.

Ye Qingfeng didn't retract his hand; he just held it up, looking at Amu.

His gaze wasn't intense, but Amu felt that those eyes could see through his thoughts, see through what was hidden in his "not hungry" act.

He didn't eat dinner, lunch, or breakfast, and yesterday he only drank two bowls of thin porridge.

He endured day after day, until his stomach forgot what hunger felt like.

Amu reached out and took the sesame seed cake.

His hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the bewilderment one feels when someone who hasn't been treated like this in a very long time suddenly has something stuffed into their hand.

He took a bite, but there was no "crunch" sound. It wasn't that the biscuit wasn't crisp; it was that he bit very lightly and carefully, as if afraid of breaking something valuable.

The pancake melted in my mouth, the flavors of oil, sesame, and flour mingling together—salty, fragrant, and with a touch of sweetness.

He chewed a few times and swallowed.

His throat moved, and his eyes suddenly felt a little sore.

He held back his tears and took another bite.

The two people squatted by the stove, eating sesame seed cakes.

Xiaodie ate quickly, and soon finished the one in her hand and started eating the second one.

Amu ate slowly, taking small bites as if he were counting.

He ate half of it and then stopped.

Xiaodie also stopped while eating her second one.

The two of them simultaneously wrapped the remaining sesame cakes in oil paper and put them back in the bowl.

Ye Qingfeng looked at them. "Not eating?"

Amu shook his head.

"Give the rest to Mother. She hasn't eaten yet."

Xiaodie nodded in agreement.

"Mother hasn't eaten yet."

There were still sesame seeds stuck to the corners of her mouth, but her expression was very serious.

Ye Qingfeng didn't try to persuade him; he glanced towards the inner room.

The door was half-open, and it was pitch black inside, with only a sliver of moonlight leaking through the window cracks, illuminating the face of the woman on the bed.

She was still asleep, her breathing so light it seemed it might stop at any moment.

Ye Qingfeng watched for a few moments, then looked away and smiled again.

This smile was different from the one before; it was gentler, as if she were sighing, or perhaps praising.

He took out two more sesame seed cakes from the oil paper package and handed them over.

"Eat up, there's more here. After you finish, bring some more for your mother."

Amu looked at the two sesame seed cakes, at the hands that were being handed over, and at the calm, smiling face illuminated by the moonlight.

His eyes welled up with tears again, and this time he couldn't hold them back.