The Fangs House

The setting sun painted long shadows across the suburban street as Arvin watched the Fang family's familiar routine unfold before him. Even exhausted and hurt, Jeremy still found energy to bicker.

Huff Puff

"Finally home," Jeremy wheezed, his face pale with exhaustion.

Cynthia rolled her eyes. "This is what happens when you're too stubborn to accept help."

"Not now, Cyn," Jeremy grimaced, pressing a hand against his side. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Pride going down with your stomach?" Her usual calm cracked with a hint of amusement. "Face it - Arvin's the only one here strong enough to carry you. Even Dad couldn't do it."

"Hey now," Fang Chou coughed, "I'm not that out of shape, but... you're right."

Arvin hung back, taking in the two-story house before them. The neat lawn, clean driveway, white picket fence - it reminded Arvin of the rich businessman houses he'd seen during his rare trips to the city with his master.

Fang Chou turned with a warm smile. (Chinese) "Well, here we are," he gestured proudly before catching himself. (Chinese) "Welcome to our humble home."

______________________________

[30 minutes earlier]

Late afternoon sun streamed through the store windows as Arvin sat across from Fang Chou. Jeremy rested on the office couch while Cynthia pretended not to listen to their conversation.

(Chinese) "So what brought you to China?" Fang Chou asked, settling into his chair.

(Chinese) "Training, mostly. My great-grandfather lives there."

(Chinese) "Ah, where do you train? I lived in Beijing until I was ten. Maybe I know the area?"

Arvin hesitated. (Chinese) "I've never actually been to Beijing. We stayed in... um, Wudang Mountain."

Fang Chou's eyebrows shot up. (Chinese) "Wudang? That's way down in Hubei Province." He let out a low whistle. (Chinese) "Must've been quite different from what I remember of China. I left pretty young - things were... complicated back then."

(Better keep the details simple), Arvin thought. (City folks usually have weird ideas about traditional training.)

A shadow passed over Fang Chou's face, but his smile quickly returned. (Chinese) "So what was life like up there? Must've been pretty different from the cities."

(Chinese) "Well..." Arvin picked his words carefully. (Chinese) "We'd trade game meat for supplies sometimes. Had to learn which herbs were safe to eat, how to handle knives properly-"

(Chinese) "Hold on - you know your way around a kitchen?" Fang Chou perked up like a kid spotting candy.

Arvin blinked at the sudden enthusiasm. (Chinese) "I guess? My grandparents run a small diner back home, and I used to..." He began his story on how he learned cooking for the first time and how fascinated by it. He also deepen his sense back when he training with his master, which he said here as his great-grandfather to avoid leaking the truth.

Arvin caught himself rambling. (Chinese) "Sorry, got carried away there."

(Chinese) "No, no, keep going!" Fang Chou waved his hands excitedly. (Chinese) "So, you're a cook too. What kind of dishes can you make?"

The conversation flowed easier after that. Even Cynthia, maintaining her usual poker face, couldn't hide the interest in her eyes.

(Chinese) "So," she finally spoke up, (Chinese) "you can actually cook all those dishes?"

(Chinese) "With the right ingredients, yes."

Shuffle Shuffle

"Alright guys, I'm good to go-" Jeremy's voice cut through the moment. He looked between them, confused. "Why's everyone looking so serious?"

Despite having cleaned up, his uniform still showed signs of the beating. His attempt to look casual couldn't hide how his legs shook.

"Already feeling better?" Fang Chou's light tone barely masked his concern. "Why not rest here? I'll back first to fetch the car and drive you home later."

"Nah, I'm good." Jeremy straightened up, immediately wincing. "See? Totally fi- ow... okay, still sore, but I can walk."

"Idiot." Cynthia's voice mixed exasperation with worry. "Already playing tough? What if you collapse halfway?"

"It's just walking," Jeremy muttered. "Not like I'm running a marathon."

Arvin watched their back-and-forth, lost in the rapid English. (Chinese) "Mr. Fang? What's happening?"

(Chinese) "Ah, my stubborn son wants to walk home," Fang Chou chuckled. (Chinese) "His sister's giving him grief about it."

(Chinese) "But with those injuries..." Arvin hesitated. (Chinese) "Sorry if I'm overstepping, but shouldn't you stop him?"

Fang Chou's casual response surprised him. (Chinese) "How to explain it. Hmm.. those kinds of injuries aren't really a big deal for Jeremy."

The statement hung in the air. Arvin remembered Jeremy walking after a beating that should've left him bedridden. It didn't make sense - no, it made absolutely no sense at all.

(First that store clerk, now this family), Arvin thought. (Everyone here is... different.)

(Chinese) "If that's the case..." Arvin cleared his throat. (Chinese) "Could you tell them I can carry Jeremy if he gets tired?"

(Chinese) "Sure thing." Fang Chou turned to his kids. "Hey, enough you two. Cynthia, if he wants to walk, fine, but-"

"See? Dad agrees!"

"I wasn't finished." Fang Chou's voice sharpened. "What did I teach you about manners?"

Jeremy's confident face crumbled slightly. "Right. Sorry, Dad."

After Fang Chou translated Arvin's offer, Jeremy's face reddened. He'd assumed someone had helped move him to the office earlier. Learning that Arvin had carried him alone... His pride took a hit.

Beside him, Cynthia's perfect mask cracked for just a second. She quickly covered whatever emotion had slipped through, but not before Arvin caught it.

"Thanks for offering," Jeremy said carefully. "But I want to try walking first. If... if I really can't..."

He trailed off, but everyone understood. Arvin nodded after Fang Chou translated. (Pride works the same everywhere), he thought.

They started getting ready to leave. Arvin carefully packed his torn clothes into a plastic bag from Fang Chou. (It's all what I have left now), he thought, (but hopefully, they still can be fixed.)

(Chinese) "How far is it?" Arvin asked as they stepped outside.

(Chinese) "About five blocks," Jeremy answered, not noticing Arvin's confusion at the unfamiliar measurement.

The evening had cooled as they walked. Arvin studied everything - the passing cars with their headlights just turning on, the traffic signals that stopped them twice, the strange buildings lining both sides of the street. He counted his steps, measuring the distance out of habit.

Jeremy moved slowly but steadily. Arvin watched how naturally he hid his pain, like he'd done it multiple time before. Cynthia stayed close to her brother, ready to help despite her sharp comments. Fang Chou brought up the rear, humming some tune Arvin didn't recognize.

After walking for some time, they finally arrived.

(Hmm, so five blocks was around five hundred meters), Arvin calculated as they finally approached the house after twenty minutes. (Not far, but Jeremy's condition and those traffic lights was the one that make the walk slower.)

The sun had nearly set by the time they reached their destination. Arvin paused for a moment, taking in the house before them. Even in the fading light, he could tell this place was different from anything he'd known - from the mountain cabins to the businessman houses he'd seen on his rare trips to the city.

Fang Chou moved ahead to unlock the door, the porch light clicking on automatically. Warm light spilled out as the door opened, and he beckoned them inside.

Arvin followed the family inside, the temperature change immediate.

(Chinese) "Pardon my intrusion," Arvin said automatically, the familiar greeting bringing a touch of comfort in this unfamiliar place.

Shuffle

The Fangs immediately take their shoes off and put on something that look like a slipper.

He watched them for a brief moment before put down the plastic bag that he carried and knelt to remove his shoes. The Fangs watched with curiosity until Fang Chou spoke up.

(Chinese) "You don't need to take those off here, Arvin. We usually keep them on or if you want, you could put one of these slipper like us."

(Chinese) "I see. But, if it's alright, I prefer walking with my bare foot inside the house."

(Chinese) "Alright, then. Whatever makes you comfortable. Now-"

Tap Tap

Arvin's trained senses caught movement before the others noticed. Someone approached from what looked like a living room.

A woman emerged around the corner, her long blonde hair catching the hallway light. Sharp blue eyes took in the scene, her pale skin seeming to glow against her light blue blouse and jeans. Like the others, she wore house the slippers.

"Oh, you're back already? Dinner's almost-" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes fixing on Jeremy's condition.

The other three Fangs tensed immediately, their plan to handle this quietly crumbling in an instant.

"Oh hey, honey!" Fang Chou spread his arms, wearing his most disarming smile. "How's dinner coming along?"

Ignoring her husband completely, Christina moved forward with purposeful steps. Seeing his mother, who stood slightly taller than him, Jeremy swallowed hard, his earlier confidence evaporating.

Beside him, Cynthia's reaction differed. Her face returned to that cold, controlled mask Arvin had seen at their first meeting - but a bead of sweat betrayed her nervousness.

(Is she one of the fierce wife from Master's friend stories), Arvin thought, watching how three previously confident people now resembled sparrows before a hawk.

Christina stood before Jeremy, her hands rising with a mother's practiced gentleness to cup his face. Her eyes scanned every bruise, every torn spot on his uniform, her calm expression cracking as concern took over.

"Are you alright? What happened to you?"

"Mom..." Jeremy sighed, shifting his weight carefully. "I know this is the third time I've said this, but can we maybe talk about it over dinner?"

"But sweetheart, you're-"

"Christina..."

She felt Fang Chou's gentle touch on her back. Turning, she caught his slight head shake.

"Alright," she conceded. "But you're will explain everything later."

"Thanks, Mom."

Christina nodded. "Go change first. Both of you," she included Cynthia with a glance. "Especially you," She pointed at Jeremy, "Those uniforms are dirty."

Both of them gave a silent nod. The twins headed for the stairs, their footsteps fading as they ascended, leaving the three in the entryway.

With her children gone, Christina's sharp blue eyes fixed on Arvin. He met her gaze calmly, drawing on years of enduring his master's far more intense scrutiny. After a long moment, she blinked and turned to her husband.

"Chou?" Her voice carried a mix of question and concern that made her husband turn.

"Ah, right!" Fang Chou cleared his throat. "Christina, this is Arvin. He was the one who helped Jeremy today." Switching to Chinese, he added, (Chinese) "Arvin, this is my wife, Christina."

Arvin bowed formally. (Chinese) "It's an honor to meet you, Mrs. Fang."

Christina's eyebrows rose at her husband using Chinese. He hadn't use them for along time.

"Thank you for helping my son," she said, then glanced at her husband. "Chou, what did he say? You know I never managed to learn Chinese properly."

"Ah.. yes. Sorry for that."

Fang Chou quickly translated both sides of the conversation.

Shuffle Step

"I see. Now then," Christina continued, her stance relaxing slightly. "Dinner's almost ready." She paused, studying Arvin thoughtfully. "waiting in the dining room might be more comfortable while you entertain our guest as I'll continue cooking."

After Fang Chou translated, Christina was already heading back toward what looked like a kitchen, but she called over her shoulder, her accent thickening with emotion, "And Chou? Next time something happens to our children, tell me sooner?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Sizzle Clank

Sounds of cooking resumed from the kitchen. Fang Chou let out a long breath, then turned to Arvin with a sheepish smile.

(Chinese) "Well, that went better than expected! Come on, I'll show you around. And, you can leave that bag in the entrance for now."

(Interesting family), Arvin thought, following Fang Chou deeper into the house. The smell of cooking grew stronger, carrying hints of both Chinese and unfamiliar spices that made his stomach rumble quietly.