Should I go to my uncle’s house to get a free meal before coming back? Yvonne Foster hesitated for a moment, but then remembered that once William Foster, that training fanatic, finished eating, no one would know where he’d run off to cultivate. Yvonne Foster gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, put on a martyr’s expression, and walked into his own house. Of course, having Emily Thompson teach him wasn’t impossible either, but Yvonne Foster really didn’t trust this careless woman. If she missed something important and caused him to go astray in his cultivation, he’d have no one to cry to.

But less than ten minutes after entering, Yvonne Foster regretted it so much he could have turned green with remorse.

The Jiang family lived in a small courtyard with four bedrooms and one living room. Because the house was small, the living room was not only used for guests but also served as the dining area. At this moment, the three members of the Jiang family were sitting around the dining table in the living room.

“Xiaoxiao, come try this plate of stir-fried celery with beef. It’s a new recipe I just learned.” Smiling, Emily Thompson picked up some food and put it in her son’s bowl, her face full of hopeful anticipation, just like a child waiting for praise from her parents. Unlike his father’s ordinary looks, his mother Emily Thompson was a stunning beauty, and with this expression, there were hardly any normal men in the world who could bear to refuse her.

“Mm, Mom, your cooking is so delicious.” As soon as he got home, Yvonne Foster resumed his act, looking all innocent and lively. He hurriedly chewed a couple of times and swallowed the food, then put on a look of enjoyment as he praised her. But inside, he was wailing—was this really stir-fried celery with beef? Why was it sweet?

“Really? Really? Then eat some more. Here, try this one too, it’s another new dish I learned—stir-fried eggs with chives.” Hearing her son’s praise, Emily Thompson immediately beamed with joy and started serving even more food.

“That’s right, I’m so lucky. As expected of my wife’s cooking, it’s just so delicious.” Sharing the same fate as Yvonne Foster was his father, William Foster. However, the food in his bowl would often mysteriously disappear and reappear in Yvonne Foster’s bowl. William Foster’s cultivation was profound, so Emily Thompson never noticed. Yvonne Foster couldn’t fight back and could only grit his teeth in secret, cursing the old fox. He wondered how his mom ever fell for a guy like his dad—no money, no looks, and such a terrible personality.

Actually, the father and son had once tried to dampen Emily Thompson’s enthusiasm for cooking in hopes of stopping her from taking charge in the kitchen. But whenever they told the truth and said the food was bad, Emily Thompson would look heartbroken, say things like “I really am not cut out to be a good wife,” and run off to the bedroom in tears, moping for days and making the two of them feel terrible. Fortunately, Emily Thompson didn’t have many days off left, so the father and son just let her keep torturing their stomachs.

“Dad, can you teach me how to cultivate tonight?” Originally, he’d planned to bring this up after dinner, but seeing the food in his bowl piling up, Yvonne Foster quickly used this as an excuse to change the subject.

“Haha, you’re still young, there’s no rush. Wait until you’re a bit older to learn.” William Foster didn’t take his son’s words seriously. In his mind, the only reason his son would say this was because he’d been bullied outside and wanted to learn some skills to get his dignity back.

“Dad, I’m serious.” Seeing that his father wasn’t paying much attention, Yvonne Foster put down his chopsticks and spoke solemnly. Actually, he’d already expected this reaction from William Foster, which was why he’d wanted to bring it up after dinner, when the atmosphere would be more serious.

“Oh? You’re serious? Why do you suddenly want to cultivate? Wouldn’t it be better to just play while you’re still young?” Seeing his son’s serious expression, William Foster couldn’t help but be a little surprised. In his impression, Yvonne Foster was a very playful and mischievous child, and even seemed a bit averse to cultivation. Now William Foster was really curious—what had happened to make his son suddenly interested in cultivation?

“Yeah, son, are you feeling sick or something?” Emily Thompson, sitting to the side, also looked at Yvonne Foster in surprise, even exaggeratingly reaching out to touch his forehead to see if he was feverish and talking nonsense.

Yvonne Foster didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his mother’s actions. He tried to wave his little fists to strengthen his tone and said, “Because I want to learn real skills, so I can protect Mom and make sure she never gets hurt again.”

Hearing her son’s childish answer, Emily Thompson was instantly overwhelmed with happiness, her heart melting with sweetness. She pulled Yvonne Foster into her arms and smothered him with kisses. William Foster didn’t show much expression, but a trace of satisfaction flashed in his eyes. After thinking for a moment, he asked, “Are you really sure? Cultivation is boring and tough, and you can’t give up halfway. Plus, the Jiang family’s unique method is different from others—it’s really painful at the beginning.”