Chūn Lěng Fēng stood right beside Violet in the kitchen, watching her move between the counter and the stove.
He had never really understood what a kitchen was for.
In the Chūnclan, meals appeared when they were supposed to. Someone prepared them, someone carried them in, and someone cleared everything away afterward. There had never been much reason for him to ask where the food came from.
Here, Violet had apparently decided that he was old enough to find out.
Her hair was still braided, the long extensions falling down her back as she leaned over the stove and stirred the pot.
Chūn Lěng Fēng watched the steam rise.
"What are you cooking?"
"Jollof rice."
He waited.
She didn't explain.
"What is that?"
"Rice."
He nodded. That made sense.
Then he looked into the pot.
It did not look like rice.
The grains had turned orange-red from the tomatoes and peppers, with onions and other seasonings mixed through them. Chicken broth and meat stock had gone into the cooking water, giving the whole pot a rich, savoury smell. Pieces of fried chicken and meat sat nearby, ready to be added to the plates.
Chūn Lěng Fēng stared.
Violet noticed.
"What?"
"Why is it red?"
"Tomatoes.. and seasoning."
She said it as though that settled everything.
He looked from the pot to her.
"You put tomatoes in rice?"
"Yes."
"On purpose?"
Violet stopped stirring and looked at him.
"Do you think I accidentally dropped a tomato into the pot?"
He considered that.
"No."
"Good."
She went back to stirring.
Chūn Lěng Fēng remained beside her.
He had spent most of his life eating rice that was white. Sometimes there were other things beside it—meat, vegetables, soup—but the rice itself had always been white.
This was different. Very different.
He narrowed his eyes at the pot.
Violet glanced over again.
"What now?"
"Nothing."
"You've been staring at it for a full minute."
"I've never seen rice like that."
"You'll survive."
"How do you know?"
Violet looked at him.
"What?"
"That it's safe."
For a second, she simply stared.. Then she laughed.
Chūn Lěng Fēng didn't understand what was funny.
"There are poisons that change the colour of food," he said seriously.
Violet looked at the reddish-orange rice. Then at him.
"It's tomato. Trust me."
"I trust you."
"Then eat it when it's ready."
"Okay."
She gave him one more look before turning back to the stove.
The rice simmered quietly.
After a while, Violet lowered the heat and covered the pot.
"Lunch will be ready soon."
Chūn Lěng Fēng followed her to the dining table.
Violet sat down first. The table was open to the kitchen, close enough that she could still keep an eye on the food. Chūn Lěng Fēng sat opposite her.
Violet rested an elbow on the table.
"Now…"
He looked at her.
"Tell me about the clans."
His expression changed.
"The ones you know. Tell me everything."
Chūn Lěng Fēng sat back. For once, he didn't answer immediately.
There was too much.
"The clans are older than most organizations," he said eventually. "Some of them are very old. Older than the records I was allowed to see."
Violet listened.
"The Yèclan is one of them."
She nodded once.
"I know."
"You know them?"
"Yè Yī."
"Oh."
He thought about that.
"Then you already know the Yè clan has produced IceArm wielders."
"Some of them?"
"Mostly."
Violet didn't correct him.
"The Nánclan also has IceArm. They've produced quite a few strong Ice Arm wielders."
"Nán Xuě.. and Nán Lín."
Violet nodded.
"We've met Nán Xuě."
Chūn Lěng Fēng looked interested.
"Why was she like that? And she was chained to the table?"
Violet thought about the interrogation room. Nán Xuě's expression when she'd realized why they were there. The anger. The tears. The way she had finally spoken about Nán Lín.
"Complicated."
"That doesn't tell me anything."
"It tells you exactly enough."
He gave her a look.
"You're doing that thing again."
"What thing?"
"Answering without answering."
Violet shrugged.
"We both know what she's like."
That seemed to settle it.
Chūn Lěng Fēng continued.
"The Chūnclan uses AirArm."
Violet glanced at him.
"I know that one."
"You lived there?"
"No."
"Then how?"
"I asked Ān Bái gē. The guy with the lollipop."
"Oh."
That answer seemed to satisfy him.
"The Qiūclan also has AirArm," he said. "They have a long history with them."
Both of them paused.
Qiū Huà Bǐ.
The Qiū clan.
Air Arm.
Neither said anything, but the thought came naturally to both of them.
Was there a connection?
Chūn Lěng Fēng continued before either could decide what to make of it.
"The Ānclan uses WaterArm. The Zhāngclan has Gold&Earth. The Línclan has Earth, I think. Or Gold & Earth. I'm not completely sure."
"Why aren't you sure?"
"I wasn't allowed to read the higher-grade records. So I only know little."
Violet's fingers tightened slightly against the table.
She had seen enough of the Chūn clan's past to know that access to knowledge there had never been equal. Some doors had been closed to him long before he ever decided to leave.
She didn't say anything.
Chūn Lěng Fēng continued.
"The Báiclan…" He paused. "I remember them being associated with Fire&Lightning... Not all of them though. Different branches, different Arms sometimes. The Lǐclan too.. I think."
"Think?"
"I told you. I didn't see everything."
Violet nodded.
"There are more?"
"A lot more."
"How many?"
"I don't know."
"Dozens?"
"Definitely."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"The problem is that clans don't disappear the way organizations do."
Violet waited.
"An organization can dissolve. Members leave. Another organization takes its place. But a clan can disappear from public life and still exist somewhere."
"Like yours?"
He looked at her.
"Yes. A few people and clans still know about us still."
The answer came without hesitation.
"Some clans stay hidden. Some become smaller. Some stop producing Specialists. Some refuse contact with other clans... like mine."
He looked toward the kitchen.
"Some probably don't exist anymore."
"You don't know?"
"No."
He sounded almost annoyed by that.
"There are too many old records, and most of them are difficult to understand."
Violet stayed quiet.
She had learned more from listening to him than she would have by pretending to know something she didn't.
Chūn Lěng Fēng leaned back.
"Then the third branch Arms.."
Violet looked at him.
"You mean the Void branch?"
"Yes."
"There aren't any known clans?"
"None that I know of."
"None?"
"Finding one person with that kind of Arm is already difficult. Finding an entire family is almost impossible. They don't appear often."
He paused.
"And there isn't much reliable information."
Violet waited.
Chūn Lěng Fēng looked down at the table.
"I once heard of the HēiXuán clan."
Violet looked up.
"The Hēi Xuán clan?"
"Yes."
"You don't know anything about them?"
"...Not much."
He frowned, trying to remember.
"The name appeared in an old record. There was something about Void resonance. The wording was strange."
"How strange?"
"I don't remember."
He gave her an apologetic look.
"I told you. I wasn't allowed to read the higher-grade books. I only discovered this by accident."
Violet's hand closed slowly. She didn't ask again. Not yet at least.
Violet studied Chūn Lěng Fēng.
The loud, hungry man who had spent the previous evenings eating enough food for several people was gone from his face.
She was seeing something else now.
Someone who had spent years reading whatever scraps of information had been placed in front of him and remembering them because there had been little else available.
"You look more handsome when you're serious."
Chūn Lěng Fēng froze.
For one heartbeat, he genuinely seemed unsure whether he had heard correctly.
His ears turned red first.. then his face.
"Thank you."
He scratched the back of his head.
"No one has ever told me that before."
Violet smiled warmly.
"I see."
He looked away, suddenly very interested in the wall.
A few seconds passed.
Then he asked, "Does the rice need checking?"
"It probably does."
Chūn Lěng Fēng looked toward the kitchen. The smell of meat broth and spices had become stronger.
"There are probably little to no clans connected to the third branch," he said. "But if there are, I don't know their names."
The pot gave a soft hiss. His head turned immediately.
Violet caught it.
"You're still worried about the rice."
"I'm not worried."
"You're looking at it like it betrayed you."
"Someone has to observe it."
Violet nodded.
"Very carefully at that."
She stood.
"Let's eat."
Chūn Lěng Fēng followed her into the kitchen, still rubbing the back of his neck.
Violet lifted the lid.
The smell hit him immediately.
The rice was warm and rich, the tomato and pepper blending with the chicken broth and meat stock. Fried chicken and pieces of meat sat beside it, browned and crisp from the pan.
Chūn Lěng Fēng looked at the table.
Then at Violet.
"Where are the side dishes?"
Violet blinked.
"What?"
"Is this everything?"
"Yes."
He looked at the enormous serving bowl.
"There's no soup?"
"No."
"Vegetables?"
"There's vegetables in the rice."
He looked at the chicken.
"That's the meat?"
"Yes."
He looked genuinely puzzled.
"Why is there so much?"
Violet picked up the serving spoon.
"That's how we usually serve where I'm from."
She paused.
"Also, I noticed you're malnourished."
Chūn Lěng Fēng's expression changed.
"You eat like each meal is your last."
His body coiled almost imperceptibly. His fists tightened at his sides.
He said nothing.
Violet noticed. She didn't push.
Instead, she served him a generous portion of rice and added two pieces of fried chicken and some meat.
Then she served herself.
Chūn Lěng Fēng sat down. He looked at the food again.
Then at Violet.
"That's all for me?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"You asked why there was so much."
"I didn't say I wanted less."
She stared at him. Then pushed the serving bowl closer.
"Take more if you're still hungry."
He immediately did.
Violet shook her head. She had known he ate a lot. She hadn't realized just how much.
Chūn Lěng Fēng picked up his spoon. Then stopped and looked at the rice. The colour still bothered him.
Violet noticed.
"It's safe."
"You don't know that."
"I've already eaten it."
He looked at her plate.
She had.
"And you're alive?"
"Unfortunately?"
That got him.
He took a cautious bite, chewed slowly. His expression changed immediately.
Violet waited.
"Well?"
He swallowed. Then took another bite.
"This is good."
"I know."
He looked down at his bowl.
"Why didn't anyone tell me rice could taste like this?"
Violet laughed.
"You've been living under a rock."
"I lived in the Chūn clan."
"That's basically what I said."
He looked offended but that only lasted a second before he took another bite.
A few minutes passed before Violet suddenly remembered something.
"Ah."
Chūn Lěng Fēng looked up.
"Don't tell my brother or Bǐ I cooked for you."
He blinked.
Food still sat in his mouth, making him look far younger than his twenty years. There was something almost absurdly cute about the way he stared at her while chewing, his cheeks slightly full.
Violet had to look away for a second.
"I've never cooked for Yī," she said. "Huà Bǐ thinks I can't cook. It's just that I can't cook Chinese food, so I let Yī gē do it."
Chūn Lěng Fēng nodded.
It was such a serious, sincere little nod that Violet nearly laughed again.
"You understand?"
He nodded again.
"Good."
She took another bite.
"Don't say anything."
Another nod.
Violet stared at him.
"I feel like a mother."
Chūn Lěng Fēng looked up.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He went back to eating.
Violet watched him for a moment.
The red rice disappeared from his bowl faster than she expected.
She pointed at it.
"Slow down."
"I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry."
"That isn't my fault."
"It is when you're eating my food."
He thought about that. Then he quietly pulled his bowl closer.
Violet stared at him.
"I feel like a mother," she repeated.
Chūn Lěng Fēng heard her this time.
"I can hear you."
"I know."
He grinned and took another bite.
Violet looked at the nearly empty serving bowl.
"Don't let him eat the whole house."
She sighed and leaned back in her chair.
"That's what Qiū Huà Bǐ had said... or at least something like that."
The World of the Specialists had organizations.
It had sects.
And now, apparently, it had clans old enough to have outlived entire generations of people who had once believed they understood the world.
Violet looked across the table at Chūn Lěng Fēng, who was currently concentrating on defeating a bowl of jollof rice.
The world was getting bigger...
And somehow, that was only the beginning.