Morning light crept gently across the shutters of The Whispering Bowl, turning the wooden walls golden.
Birds chattered somewhere near the riverbank, and the scent of damp earth and boiled rice hung faintly in the air.
Inside the shop, everything was still — except for two small figures huddled in a blanket by the stove.
The twins, Lian and Lin, slept so quietly that for a moment it was hard to believe they were even breathing.
The door to the back room slid open. Yao Qing stepped out, tying her hair, still half-asleep.
She froze when she saw them. "What in Heaven's name…?"
Before she could call out, Ananya appeared from the small kitchen corner, holding a pot of steaming tea.
Her calm eyes met Yao Qing's startled ones. "Don't be alarmed. They're with me."
"With you?" Yao Qing whispered, looking between the children and her. "An'an, where did they come from?"
