The Magistrate was momentarily a bit embarrassed, guessing he must have done something wrong to upset the guest. While he was anxiously pondering what to say, the person beside him suddenly moved, and his eyes widened.

Chad Foster was eating with his head down when, all of a sudden, a fair wrist shot out in front of him and swiftly snatched the chicken wing from his bowl. He glanced up and saw that Olivia, sitting next to him, had already fished the chicken wing into her own bowl. Sensing his gaze, she looked completely innocent and belatedly added, “Is it okay... I’m still hungry.”

Olivia heard The Magistrate gasp and scold her, “Olivia! How can you take food from a guest’s bowl? That’s so rude!” He lowered his voice, nearly in tears, “Sweetheart, it’s not like our family can’t afford chicken. If it’s not enough, we can get more. You...”

“I noticed Young Master Foster doesn’t like chicken wings,” she replied softly and aggrieved, “I like them.”

She looked at The Magistrate Father, whose forehead was beaded with sweat, and while gnawing on the chicken wing, she smiled like a blooming flower: “Our family’s chicken wings are really delicious.”

Olivia’s efforts to strengthen her body had paid off. The once-skinny frame was gradually filling out, her chin was no longer so sharp it could poke someone, her skin was smooth and fair, and her cheeks had a healthy pink glow. She was nothing like the faint shadow she used to be—anyone would take a second look.

She gave a sweet, silly smile that melted The Magistrate Father’s heart. All thoughts of proper hospitality were forgotten; he just stroked her hair and doted on her, laughing, “Alright, alright, alright.”

Chad Foster felt oddly out of place: on one side, a display of affection; on the other, a doting parent. He was the only one left out.

He gently set down his chopsticks and gazed intently at Olivia Sullivan’s fluffy profile, just in time to see her making playful gestures at The Magistrate.

How could a girl smile like that? The corners of her mouth turned up, her eyes curved, her whole face lifted like a cat seeking affection—proud and a little silly.

He thought, Sister would never smile like that.

Instinctively, he looked back and saw Yvonne Foster and Henry Carter watching the father and daughter with gentle smiles, their expressions warm and not the least bit surprised.

A faint, lonely doubt crept into his heart—what were they all so happy about?

Henry Carter said, “There’s one more chicken wing, let’s give it to Miss Sullivan.” As he spoke, he led by example, unceremoniously picking up the last chicken wing and dropping it into Olivia’s bowl.

Olivia was flattered and delighted: “Ah, thank you, Big Brother Carter!” After eating for a while, she suddenly remembered something, and with a beaming smile turned to Chad Foster, just as their eyes met: “Thank you too, Young Master Foster.”

Chad Foster avoided her gaze, lowered his head to eat, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a cool, indifferent smile. He said slowly, “You’re welcome. I don’t like chicken wings anyway.”

Olivia finished her meal and tea, put down her bowl in satisfaction, and when she saw Chad Foster’s cold profile, she finally reflected a bit on her behavior. She thought fuzzily, did I just annoy the black lotus out of spite?

After lunch, she felt extremely sluggish, dragging her sleepy mind along as she mocked herself—did the black lotus’s favorability toward her go negative?

Other people’s systems always provide some kind of cheat, or at the very least, a record of the target’s favorability for reference. But this lousy Son of God system—forget cheats, it never even pays her any attention except to assign tasks...

“Task reminder: Task one, follow-up to the first quarter. You need to increase your time and intimacy with character [柳拂衣] according to the trajectory of character [凌虞]. Reminder complete.”

Olivia Sullivan let out a cold laugh.

She’d forgotten one thing: never complain about your own system. The system can read the host’s thoughts—think of it, and it appears, never listening to the host’s opinion, always vanishing after delivering its message.

Olivia Sullivan held her forehead and sighed in resignation.

Yvonne Foster, still weak after her serious injury, watched a bit of southern opera with Olivia. As soon as the sun set, she felt tired and went back to her room early to rest.

The male and female leads maintained a pure and steadfast revolutionary friendship. Though they were inseparable, they did not share a room. Henry Carter, Yvonne Foster, and Chad Foster all stayed in three adjacent guest rooms.

Chad Foster had originally wanted to shamelessly stay in Sister’s room, but Yvonne Foster refused him, half amused and half exasperated: “Chad, I’m not a child anymore. Do I still need you to watch over me?”

“Sister, I just worry about you.” When Chad Foster acted cute in earnest, his eyes were moist and the corners lifted slightly, making it impossible to look away. He added solemnly, “I won’t disturb your sleep, Sister. I’ll just sleep on the floor, okay?”

When he first arrived at the The Foster Family, he used to sleep with Yvonne Foster. Little Yvonne Foster was only two years older than him, but she acted like a little adult, hugging him when he woke from nightmares, trembling in the corner, and soothing him: “Chad, don’t be afraid, it was just a dream.”

Her voice was soft and cool as water, her hand patting his thin, protruding back through the blanket, her presence comforting.

Unfortunately, after he turned eight, Yvonne Foster never slept with him again. Her gentle care faded as she grew older.

Yvonne Foster grew into a cold and stubborn young woman.

She would leave early and return late to practice her spells, then study by lamplight, her shadow cast against the window. He would only be able to sleep peacefully after the warm yellow light in her room went out.