Sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows as the Fangs gathered for breakfast. The usual morning chatter was gone. A heavy silence hung in the air after Fang Chou told Arvin what he'd learned from Leo.
Arvin froze, his spoon halfway to his mouth. Two years before he could go home or get legal status? The news was already a shock, but hearing how long he'd have to stay twisted his stomach.
(Chinese) "I see."
Everyone at the table reacted differently. Jeremy stared at his plate, lost in thought. Cynthia kept her usual calm face, but her eyes showed concern. Christina, though, understood. She'd been through something similar.
(Chinese) "Well, I wish I could do more," Fang Chou said gently. "That's the situation, Arvin. I think you understand what this means."
Arvin's shoulders slumped. (Chinese) "I understand, Mr. Fang. But where am I supposed to stay for so long? I don't have any money here."
(Chinese) "That's where we come in," Fang Chou replied without hesitation. "You can stay with us. It—"
"What are you two talking about?" Christina interrupted.
Fang Chou turned to his wife, switching to English. "I was telling Arvin he should stay with us until things get sorted out. It might take a while, but we have the space, and honestly…" He glanced at Arvin warmly. "Having him around has been good for us."
Christina's expression softened. "Of course he should stay with us," she said firmly. "Where else would he go? This is the safest place for him right now."
Jeremy perked up. "Sweet! Finally, someone else to hang out with besides Miss Serious over here."
Cynthia's eyes narrowed at her brother.
"Uh, I mean," Jeremy backpedaled, "it'll be cool to have another guy around. None of our friends ever want to come over anyway."
Cynthia sighed and gave a slight nod, agreeing with his point. Though, no one noticed the small frown on her face.
Fang Chou smiled gratefully. "Thank you, everyone."
Arvin looked at Fang Chou, confused, unable to follow their English.
(Chinese) "They all want you to stay with us," Fang Chou explained in Chinese.
Arvin's face mixed gratitude with discomfort. (Chinese) "I don't want to impose," he said quietly.
(Chinese) "You're not imposing," Fang Chou insisted. "Like you said at the store, we're helping you through a tough time. And don't worry about money. That's not an issue."
Arvin went quiet, thinking it over.
(What choice do I have?) he thought, staring at his hands on the table. (I don't even know how to get home. No money, no documents, no way to contact my family.)
He glanced at the Fangs, all watching him with patient concern. (They're offering me shelter when they could turn me away. Mr. Fang said two years, or a year and a half at the minimum. That's a long time to let a stranger stay.)
The weight of it hit him hard. (But what's the alternative? Sleep on the streets? Find work with no documents? Impossible. I don't even speak the language to survive here.)
He thought of his family back home, probably wondering where he was. (Father, Mother… you taught me to accept help when it's offered and repay kindness with gratitude. These people aren't asking for anything.)
(Mr. Fang has already done so much. He dug up info to help me and gave advice. Mrs. Fang, Jeremy, even the quiet Cynthia… they welcomed me without question. If I say no, where else can I go?)
(I need time to figure out how to get home. I need to learn about this place, maybe find work, save some cash. Then I can buy a ticket home. But I can't do that alone. Not now.)
The truth was clear.
Finally, Arvin sighed and stood up. The Fangs tensed, worried he might walk out.
Instead, he brought his hands together in a formal palm salute and bowed deeply. (Chinese) "Thank you for your kindness and willingness to help me in my time of need," he said. "I'll apologize in advance for any trouble I might cause while I'm here."
The gesture caught the Fangs off guard. Fang Chou felt a lump in his throat, old memories from before he and his parents left China rushing back. He stood quickly, put a hand on Arvin's shoulder, and guided him up.
(Chinese) "That's not necessary," he said softly. "No need to bow to us."
Jeremy and Christina exchanged quick glances, their faces easing into quiet approval. Cynthia also nodded but, the small frown on her face still remains.
Breakfast lightened up after that. Later, Arvin helped Christina with the dishes as usual.
(Chinese) "I'll need to watch the house like normal today?" Arvin asked Fang Chou as they dried the last plate.
Fang Chou nodded. (Chinese) "Yeah, we're heading out."
Arvin frowned, puzzled. (Chinese) "Excuse me, but where are you going? Wasn't today supposed to be a rest day?"
(Chinese) "My mom and I are going to church, then helping at the store," Cynthia answered. "Jeremy's helping Dad at the store, like I did yesterday. We'll be back for dinner."
That sparked an idea in Arvin. These people were so kind to him. He wanted to give something back.
(Chinese) "If that's the case, could I cook dinner for everyone tonight?" he asked Fang Chou.
Fang Chou's face lit up, and he laughed, delighted.
Christina, fresh from changing, heard him chuckle. "What's so funny?" she asked, adjusting her earrings.
"Uh… if I'm not w-wrong," Jeremy said, stumbling over his Chinese, "Dad's excited 'cause Arvin said he's gonna cook dinner. I think that's it."
Cynthia raised an eyebrow, curious.
"Arvin's cooking is amazing," Christina said with a knowing smile.
The twins swapped confused looks. "When did Arvin cook?" Cynthia asked. "We've had takeout most days. You only made beef stew last night after Dad met Uncle Leo."
"He cooked the first morning he was here," Christina explained. "That omelette I made yesterday? It was his recipe."
The twins' eyes lit up as they remembered the tasty omelette.
"That's not fair," Jeremy grumbled. "We didn't get to try his real cooking."
Cynthia nodded, clearly interested.
Christina laughed. "Well, now's your chance."
Meanwhile, Arvin talked ingredients with Fang Chou. (Chinese) "I'll need a few things you don't have in the fridge," he said, listing them off.
Fang Chou nodded, listening closely. (Chinese) "I'll track everything down," he said. "Might need to hit Chinatown for some of it."
Christina popped up at the front door, ready to go. "We need to leave if we're catching the early service," she called.
Fang Chou grabbed his keys and wallet. The family headed out, waving goodbye to Arvin.
______________________________
Late afternoon sunlight poured through the windows as the Fangs got home. The second they opened the door, a rich chicken stock aroma hit them from the kitchen.
Jeremy bolted ahead with a paper bag of ingredients Arvin had asked for. "Something smells awesome!" he shouted, the others trailing behind.
Arvin glanced up from the counter, where he'd been prepping veggies, and smiled. (Chinese) "Welcome back," he said, wiping his hands on a towel.
(Chinese) "We're home," Fang Chou said warmly. Christina and Jeremy chimed in. Cynthia gave her usual quiet nod.
Jeremy handed over the bag. (Chinese) "Here's everything you wanted."
(Chinese) "Thanks," Arvin said, checking each item with a satisfied nod.
Jeremy plopped down at the dining table, too curious to stay away. "Dad, what're those weird mushrooms for? I've never seen them before."
Cynthia kept her cool look but leaned in a bit, just as curious.
Fang Chou laughed. "They're odd if you didn't grow up with them," he said. "I ate them in China, but not since you two were toddlers. They're only popular with Asians, not so much here. That's why they're tough to find."
Christina turned to her husband. "What's Arvin making with all this?"
"He said he's cooking Nasi Goreng," Fang Chou replied, butchering the name. "It's fried rice from Indonesia. The mushrooms are for Cap Cay." He shrugged. "I don't know a thing about it, but I'm excited to try it."
A steady tap tap pulled their attention to the kitchen. Arvin's knife flew across the cutting board, slicing veggies into perfect pieces.
Jeremy and Cynthia stared, jaws dropped. Even Christina and Fang Chou, who'd seen it before, were still impressed.
In minutes, Arvin had carrots, cauliflower, napa cabbage, scallions, onions, shrimp, and both raw and boiled chicken breast all prepped.
He washed the snap peas next and soaked the dried wood ear and snow mushrooms in warm water.
Turning to Fang Chou, he asked, (Chinese) "Mr. Fang, do you have a mortar and pestle?"
Fang Chou and Cynthia pulled awkward faces.
(Chinese) "Why do you need that?" Fang Chou asked, while Christina turned to Cynthia.
"Why're you both making that face?" Christina asked. Jeremy looked lost too.
"Arvin asked for a mortar and pestle," Cynthia said.
Christina and Jeremy got it then. That old-school tool felt out of place now.
(Chinese) "I need it to make a paste for cooking," Arvin explained, seeing their reactions.
(Chinese) "We don't have one," Fang Chou said, "but we've got a food processor. Would that do?"
Arvin frowned, confused. (Chinese) "What's a food processor?"
The family swapped shocked looks. Who didn't know that? Then they remembered he'd been off the grid in the mountains for five years.
Fang Chou walked to the kitchen, pulled the food processor from a cabinet, and showed him.
(Chinese) "Oh," Arvin said, recognizing it. "We call this a chopper, back home."
(Chinese) "Close enough," Fang Chou said. "It's got more function though. What're you making? I'll show you how to use it."
(Chinese) "I need a paste from garlic and shallots," Arvin said.
Fang Chou tossed in the ingredients Arvin listed, plus some salt and sugar as directed. The machine whirred for a minute and done.
(Chinese) "Thank you," Arvin said as Fang Chou headed back to the table.
After prepping, Arvin called them over. (Chinese) "I need you all to taste something before I cook."
They gathered by the kitchen, curious. Three pairs of glasses sat on the counter.
(Chinese) "The front ones have salt water," Arvin said. "The back ones have sugar water. Taste them right to left, but stop if it's too salty or sweet."
"Why?" Jeremy asked, scratching his head.
(Chinese) "So I can tweak the flavor to what you like," Arvin said simply.
Fang Chou and Christina swapped a look. He hadn't done this before, but they went along.
Fang Chou stopped at the second glass for both. Christina hit the second for salt, third for sugar. The twins made it to the third for both.
(Chinese) "Thank you," Arvin said, jotting it down. "Please wait, while I cook."
The twins watched Arvin work for the first time. He poured oil into the wok, tossed in the paste, and sautéed it until the smell hit the dining room. His hands moved fast and sure.
A minute later, the aroma had everyone breathing deep. Jeremy's stomach growled loud, making them laugh.
Chicken breast went in next, ramping up the smell. Then the veggies, added from toughest to softest.
While cooking, Arvin decided something. These people had been so good to him. He'd repay them with a meal they'd love.
He used a trick he learned from his five years of training. He pushed a bit of chi energy into the wok, letting it coat the pan and food. The chi kept everything from burning, no matter how high he cranked the heat, cutting his cooking time in half since he didn't have to worry about scorching it. It also somehow made the food taste better too, though he wasn't sure why. He'd relied on this trick when he cook without a stove back then. It wouldn't tire him out for a quick session, but he had to keep touching the wok for it to work.
Jeremy blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Huh? Did anyone else see that?"
"See what?" Christina asked.
"The wok… it glowed for a second," Jeremy said, puzzled.
"Probably the oil catching the light," Christina said. The others nodded, but Cynthia kept a closer eye.
When Jeremy pointed again, the glow was gone. Arvin moved and added the soaked mushrooms, fish balls, shrimp, and scallions in one smooth move.
He kept cooking, focusing hard as he fed chi in again. He seasoned with salt, sugar, and pepper, cranked the heat, and tossed the wok like a pro. Two minutes later, he poured in chicken stock and let it simmer for five minutes. The kitchen smelled incredible, and the family couldn't help gulping it in.
When the Cap Cay was done, Arvin ladled it into five bowls and set the rest in a big one. He didn't pause, moving right to the next dish.
He rinsed the wok with water, no soap, to keep the seasoning. Then he started fresh with more paste, adding extra salt this time. Eight eggs hit the wok, mixing with the paste and slice of chicken meat he had boiled before.
The magic kicked in when he added cold rice. The grains split perfectly as he tossed them with the egg and chicken. Then came sweet soy sauce, turning the rice into dark, shiny pearls right before their eyes.
With the heat maxed, Arvin flicked the wok like an expert, sprinkling white pepper midway. The rice turned a deep golden-brown, every grain separate but coated.
At the table, Jeremy piped up. "Anyone notice that Arvin doesn't taste his food while he cooks?"
Cynthia nodded. "Yeah, you're right."
Their parents glanced at each other. They hadn't caught that before. "True," Fang Chou said, "but it was still delicious last time."
Arvin cut their chat short, bringing two trays of food. He set them down gently, passing out portions and keeping the biggest for himself.
On the table was Nasi Goreng, dark golden fried rice, and Cap Cay, a veggie-meat soup.
(Chinese) "Thanks for waiting," Arvin said. "Try the Nasi Goreng first, then the Cap Cay."
Starving from watching, the family thanked him and dug in.
Their first bites of Nasi Goreng widened their eyes. The rice was crispy outside, soft inside. The sweet soy sauce turned plain rice into something unreal, dark and fragrant, sweet but balanced.
"Wow!" Jeremy said, mouth full. "It's sweet but not too much. And that smoky taste? Totally new."
"The eggs mix in perfectly," Christina said, eyeing her spoon. "Not lumpy like mine."
Fang Chou nodded. (Chinese) "The chicken's tender, and the pepper's giving it a nice kick."
Even Cynthia spoke up. (Chinese) "It's not like Chinese fried rice. Simpler, but tastier somehow. How'd you get this texture?"
Arvin smiled at their reactions. (Chinese) "Cold rice is best for Nasi Goreng, but cooled fresh rice works too. The soy sauce caramelizes in the hot wok. That's where the smoky flavor come from."
They moved to the Cap Cay next. The broth was clear but packed with taste, little golden chicken fat drops floating on top. Every veggie stood out. Carrots were sweet and tender. Cauliflower stayed firm but soft. Snap peas kept their crunch.
(Chinese) "These mushrooms are amazing," Fang Chou said, enjoying a spoonful. "They soak up the flavor."
Jeremy, who didn't like veggies, fished for more. "How'd you make them taste this good? I can't stand cauliflower, but this is amazing!"
(Chinese) "Timing and heat," Arvin said. "Each veggie had different cooking time."
Christina sipped the broth. "It looks rich but tastes light. Is there a secret ingredient?"
(Chinese) "No. It was only because the good stock and the right technique," Arvin said humbly. " I'm glad you like it."
(Chinese) "The shrimp's was tasty," Cynthia said. "Usually gets tough or worst, rubbery in soup, but this still tender."
They kept eating, loving it more. Jeremy grabbed seconds of Nasi Goreng. Christina and Fang Chou went for more Cap Cay.
(Chinese) "You know," Fang Chou said mid-bite, "my mom made something like Cap Cay, but yours might top it. The flavors are perfect."
"I've never had fried rice like this," Christina said. "We've been missing out. It's a whole new taste."
Cynthia, who rarely got excited, nodded. (Chinese) "You should teach Jeremy. He only makes cereal and toast."
"Hey!" Jeremy shot back, but grinned. "She's right though. Could you teach me sometime?"
Arvin smiled, happy. (Chinese) "I'd love to. Maybe we can cook together."
When Arvin finished his big portion, they praised him again.
Fang Chou and Christina leaned toward the Cap Cay, liking its lightness yet filling.
Jeremy loved the Nasi Goreng but wanted it spicier.
Cynthia agreed, noting it had less veggies than Chinese fried rice.
Arvin took their feedback with thanks. (Chinese) "I should've asked if you like spicy food," he told Jeremy. "I can make both of them spicier next time."
To Cynthia, he said Nasi Goreng usually skips veggies beyond garnish, but he could add pickles or shredded cabbage if she wanted.
(Chinese) "Also," he added, "this Cap Cay's is the soup version. There's a stir-fried one and a gravy one too. I can make those later if you'd like."
They all grinned and nodded, pumped.
After dinner, Fang Chou asked Arvin about his mountain life. They chatted an hour before the twins headed off to shower.
With three left, Arvin mentioned the leftover Cap Cay.
"No worries," Christina said. "We'll fridge it for breakfast."
Before splitting up, Arvin thanked them again for letting him stay.
Fang Chou waved it off. (Chinese) "It's nothing for us," he said.
After Christina went to shower, Fang Chou pulled Arvin aside. (Chinese) "Don't stress too much. I hope we find a way to get you home sooner."
Arvin nodded, grateful, then excused himself to wash dishes.
Clink. Splash.
Washing up, Arvin's mind drifted home. The warm water on his hands took him back to doing dishes with his mom in their tiny kitchen.
(Father, Mother, I'm sorry), he thought, stacking a plate to dry. (I don't know how I got here or how to get back.)
He pictured his family. His dad's calm smile, his mom's gentle hands, his grandpa's tough but warm stare during training, his grandfather showing him cooking tricks at the diner, his grandmother's herb lessons, and his grandma's school lesson.
(Grandpa, Grandma, Grandfather, Grandmother… hope you're not too worried.)
He sighed, rinsing a bowl.
(I'll get by here for now. The Fangs are good people. Maybe I'll find a way back with time. Until then, wait for me, please.)
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘
Hey guys!
Back again with another weekly chapter!
But I must apologize first as this was late by one day of my usual schedule.
So yeah, that was the message.
Hope you'll enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!
As always, thanks for sticking with me on this journey. Let's keep enjoying the story together!