American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

In some ways, watching Anya cook was more nerve-wracking than Li Wei cooking himself.

Judging by the way Anya held the knife, Li Wei was genuinely worried she might slice off a fingernail.

"This isn’t going to work. Let me do it," Li Wei couldn’t help but say, looking at the beef chunks that looked like tangram pieces.

"What... what do you know?" Anya retorted, craning her neck defensively. "The authentic method is supposed to be irregular."

"Oh?" Li Wei asked. "Then how are you going to get pieces of different sizes to cook through at the same time?"

"Uhh..." Anya faltered. "You just... cook them until they’re done, right?"

"How about this," Li Wei finally stepped forward. "I’ll do the cutting, and you can tell me what to do."

"No!" Anya pulled the cutting board closer, guarding it defensively. "I learned this specially from Auntie Kaja!"

"Then how about we do it together?" Li Wei stopped arguing and moved behind Anya. He reached around her, his hands covering hers on the knife. "Here, let’s cut together."

Anya froze for half a second. She could feel Li Wei’s chest and abs pressed against her back, his chin resting on her shoulder, his palm enveloping her fingers.

Anya could even feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke.

"Oh..." A pink blush spread across Anya’s smooth neck, and her voice became a whisper. "Then... okay, then."

With Li Wei guiding her, the beef was cut into relatively uniform chunks. Anya glanced at her previous tangram-like pieces, then at the perfectly even cubes they were cutting now, and couldn’t resist stomping on Li Wei’s foot.

"Hm?" Li Wei glanced at her.

"It’s nothing," Anya said nonchalantly. "Go chop the onion and carrots. I’ll prepare the base for the stew."

Okay, now it was Chef Anya’s time to shine.

She opened the refrigerator and tried to recall the recipe Auntie Kaja had taught her before she left: chili peppers, red bell peppers, onion, garlic... butter, tomato paste, black pepper... ’What else was there?’

’Shoot, I can’t remember!’

She had no choice but to scan the refrigerator’s contents again, taking out nearly every bottle of seasoning to examine it. She even sniffed some of them two or three times.

After a moment’s thought, she took out all the seasonings she vaguely remembered needing and mixed them together based on instinct.

The beef went into the pot, on top of a base of onions and carrots. Then came the "soul sauce," followed by enough water to cover all the ingredients.

Next came the salt.

"Add a little more," Anya said, staring into the pot.

Li Wei added a small, standard-sized spoonful.

"Not enough. Add more."

Li Wei added another half spoonful.

"Still not enough." Anya took the spoon, had a taste, and smacked her lips. "Add a lot more."

Li Wei hesitated but said nothing, adding two more spoonfuls.

"Perfect!" Anya exclaimed, gleefully grabbing her phone to snap several pictures. "Commemorating the resounding success of this master chef’s first culinary creation."

With that, she spun around, untied her apron, tossed it to Li Wei, and declared her part finished. The rest of the cleanup was a man’s job.

「About forty minutes later.」

"Big brother!!!"

The sound of the front door swinging open echoed at the same time as Lily’s voice.

A backpack flew into the entryway as Lily, dressed in her winter school uniform, burst in like a tiny tornado.

"Where’s my brother?!"

"In the kitchen," Don Quixote said, his eyes glued to the ESPN pre-game analysis on TV.

Lily rounded two corners and charged into the kitchen, throwing her arms around Li Wei’s waist as he tidied up the stove.

"Big brother! Happy birthday!"

"Thanks." Li Wei smiled, looking down at her. "You’re home from school early today."

"I asked my teacher to let me skip the last period. I told her I had a cold and had to come home," Lily said with a mischievous grin, her expression a perfect copy of Don Quixote’s. "For you! I made your birthday present myself!"

Li Wei dried his hands and took the bag. "Hm," he said, looking at the drawing of a potato on it. "This is a really nice drawing. Is it a—"

"Yep!" Lily chirped. "It’s a football I drew! Open it and see!"

Li Wei opened the paper bag. Inside was a woven backpack charm made of alternating dark blue and white thread. A tiny metal "L" and a "1" were tied to the end. It wasn’t exactly exquisite, but it was clear she had put a lot of effort into it; some sections had been woven loosely, then unraveled and done over.

"Do you like it?" Lily asked, staring at Li Wei anxiously. "It took me a whole week to learn how to make it."

"Of course I do." Li Wei smiled and ruffled Lily’s hair. "I’ll hang it on my gear bag. It looks great."

Standing nearby, Anya watched the scene unfold, an involuntary smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Lily was beaming, proclaiming she was going to tell all her best friends—which was to say, her entire class.

Li Wei glanced at her but didn’t say anything, just letting her be.

After she finished taking pictures, Lily noticed the clay pot simmering on the stove. BUBBLE BUBBLE. She sniffed the air.

"What do you think?" Anya said smugly. "I made it myself."

"It smells..." Lily sniffed again. "Is that... a burning smell?"

"What!" Anya whipped off the lid of the pot.

Everything in the pot looked normal. The broth bubbled gently over low heat, and the chunks of beef rested peacefully on their bed of vegetables.

Anya turned and shot a death glare at Lily, who was standing in the kitchen doorway, grinning from ear to ear.

"Lily!"

Anya rolled up her sleeves and took off after her. Lily shrieked and started running circles around the dining table.

"Dad! Anya’s going to kill me!" Lily yelled as she ran, tattling on her.

"Don’t roughhouse. Be careful," Don Quixote said without looking up from the TV. He was sitting on the sofa with a teacup in hand, his eyes fixed on the pre-game analysis.

No one listened to him.

Seeing Anya chase after Lily, Li Wei quickly turned back to the pot, lifted the lid, and tasted a spoonful. He immediately sucked in a sharp breath. HISS.

’This is a genuine ancient Magic Potion, the kind that can bring the dead back to life and grow flesh on bleached bones.’

He glanced over his shoulder to see Anya chasing Lily upstairs, then quickly got to work, trying to salvage the dish by instinct.

’Too much salt, add water. Too much water... add salt.’

Li Wei didn’t put the lid back on until Lily’s laughter from being tickled upstairs had faded to a hoarse croak.

"It’s about done!" he called out. "Dinner’s ready! Time to eat!"

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"That must be Liz!" Anya rushed downstairs. "I’ll get it, I’ll get it!"

She hastily slipped on her slippers before opening the door.

"Liz!" she greeted enthusiastically. "Hurry and come in, it’s freezing out there."

Elizabeth wore a scarf, a simple beige turtleneck sweater, and dark, straight-leg pants. Her hair was casually tied back in a low ponytail, and she carried a square box.

"You can leave your shoes here." Anya took the scarf from her and hung it on the coat rack, then found a pair of disposable slippers from on top of the shoe cabinet. "What can I get you to drink? Black tea or hot chocolate?"

"Black tea would be great, thank you." Elizabeth finished changing her shoes and glanced around the room.

"Liz!" Lily called out, running down the stairs with her hair still a bit messy. "You’re here!"

She threw her arms around Elizabeth, then shivered from the cold clinging to her.

"I wouldn’t miss a birthday," Elizabeth said, smoothing Lily’s hair. "Why is your hair so messy today?"

"Anya was torturing me," Lily complained. "You have to stick up for me."

"That’s nonsense!" Anya shouted from the kitchen.

Elizabeth carried the white box into the dining room and nodded to Li Wei.

"Happy birthday," Elizabeth said. "I wasn’t sure what to get you, but Anya said a cake would be enough, so—"

"It’s perfect," Li Wei said, wiping his hands with a smile. "Thank you."

The cake in the box wasn’t large, only about six inches, but judging by the quality of the packaging, the intricate frosting work, and the gold-foiled card tucked underneath, it was clearly expensive—not something an ordinary person could afford.

"Do you need help setting the table?" Elizabeth asked, looking around.

"No need," Anya said. "Just have a seat."

She placed all the dishes on the dining table. The cake and the pot of beef stew shared the center position.

Li Wei took three bottles of red wine from the cabinet: two bottles of Burgundy from Don Quixote’s collection, and one bottle of Bordeaux that Anya had casually picked up at an auction.

"We’re at home, so we’re not going to worry about the legal drinking age," Li Wei said, uncorking a bottle. "I’m just saying, don’t go reporting me to the NFL."

The group broke into laughter.

"Pour me a glass, too," Lily said, her eyes lighting up.

"You’re having juice." Don Quixote pushed the glass Lily was holding out back down.

Once the wine was poured, everyone began to eat.

Anya took the initiative to serve everyone a bowl of the beef stew, then nonchalantly scanned their faces for reactions.

Li Wei took the first bite, chewed thoughtfully, and then a look of satisfaction spread across his face.

"Not bad," he said. "It’s delicious."

"It is," Don Quixote agreed.

"It’s actually... pretty good?" Lily said, looking surprised.

"Anya, you have a real talent for cooking," Elizabeth added with a compliment. "It melts in your mouth."

Anya didn’t say a word, but her expression was one of pure satisfaction.

"I’ve already memorized the recipe," she said gleefully. "I’ll make it for my dad next time I go home."

Li Wei hesitated.

"That’s a great idea," he chimed in. "Mr. Sergey will definitely love it."

Amidst cheerful laughter, the meal came to an end. They had finished two bottles of wine; Li Wei had drunk the most, with Anya a close second.

After they turned off the lights and sang "Happy Birthday," Li Wei made a wish and cut the cake.

’His nineteenth year had passed in a flash. He’d already been in New York for a year and a half.’

After dinner, Lily started to get sleepy.

Don Quixote glanced at the three young people in the living room, then stood up and took Lily upstairs to bed.

The living room gradually fell quiet, leaving only Li Wei, Elizabeth, and Anya.

A full, opened bottle of red wine sat on the table. Outside the window, the lights of the Manhattan nightscape glittered like a sea of stars.

Li Wei was about to say something when his phone rang.

It was Jin Heon.

"I need to take this," he said, standing up and heading for the balcony. "You two go on and chat."

After he slid the glass door to the balcony shut, only Anya and Elizabeth remained in the living room.

Anya glanced at Elizabeth, then at the red wine on the table.

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she swallowed the words before they could escape.

She poured herself a full glass, tilted her head back, and downed it in one go. A trickle of wine, as crimson as blood, escaped from the corner of her mouth.

Elizabeth watched Anya. She knew Anya had something on her mind.

Something she wanted to say to her.

She didn’t press the issue. Instead, she simply held out her hand toward Anya.

Anya paused for a second, then poured a glass of wine for Elizabeth as well.

Elizabeth mimicked Anya, downing the wine in one gulp, and immediately started coughing.

Unlike Anya, who had grown up among the "fighting people," she had very little experience with alcohol.

"Heh heh." Anya watched Elizabeth down the glass and smirked. "If I drink too much, I’m not going home. I’ll stay here."

She paused, her tone shifting.

Elizabeth didn’t take the bait, watching Anya in silence.

Anya poured herself another glass.

This time, she didn’t down it, but took a long sip.

She stared at Elizabeth’s face—a face just as exquisitely beautiful as her own—her gaze slightly unfocused.

She stared at Elizabeth for several long seconds before letting out a sudden, self-deprecating laugh.

"You know, Elizabeth Mellon," she said, "a while back, I was actually thinking about shooting you."