In the end, I let Cecilia use her combat knife to cut the mangoes.
Just looking at the gleaming blade sent chills down my spine.
Plus, she handled it with such ease, like she was used to it.
It made me wonder what kind of extraordinary upbringing this kid had.
Thankfully, nothing else happened to further shock my fragile heart.
I placed the diced mangoes in crystal cups, piled in crushed ice, topped it with the strawberry powder mixed with sugar water from the fridge, and drizzled condensed milk and a bit of syrup.
A strawberry-mango shaved ice was freshly made.
After making a second one the same way, I set both cups before the waiting duo at the dining table. “All done. Try it.”
“An An’s not eating?” Evin asked.
“There’s still the shaved ice we bought.” I said, shrugging.
As a frugal kid, I couldn’t waste it.
“No problem, I can share with An An. Here, ah~” Evin said, trying to feed me a spoonful from her cup.
I shoved it back into her mouth, exasperated, and glanced at Cecilia, who hadn’t touched hers. “What’s wrong? Still… no soul?”
“No, it’s a very cute soul.” Cecilia said, studying the ordinary shaved ice seriously. “A cute dessert made by a cute girl can be called a perfect work of art.”
Her high praise made me blush. “It’s… not that amazing…”
Cecilia didn’t reply.
Instead, she clasped her hands, saying solemnly, “My father taught me to be grateful before eating such art. What can I do for you?”
Her earnest demeanor made me feel like I was facing a devout believer.
“No need to be so formal… It’s just shaved ice, and you helped already.” I said.
“That was mere prep work, hardly comparable. I won’t feel at ease otherwise.” Cecilia said.
Evin, nibbling her spoon, chimed in, “An An, don’t we need help with the wallpaper?”
I thought it made sense. “Then, Cecilia, help us put up the wallpaper.”
“I understand.” Cecilia said, nodding.
Only then did she pick up her spoon, carefully scooping a bit of shaved ice into her mouth.
“How is it?” I asked, inexplicably nervous.
“It melts on the tongue. The mango and strawberry aromas are like rainwater sinking into parched soil, awakening every inch of my taste buds. The sweet condensed milk is like a sea swallow diving into the icy ocean in a great writer’s pen…” Cecilia said.
Her eloquent review flowed like a poetic essay, not a food critique.
Though her face showed little expression, her wine-red eyes sparkled, lighting up her already delicate features with a unique glow.
No one could doubt her sincerity.
You just moved here, right…?
I was stunned.
Evin, also dazed, felt a twinge of jealousy, pouting. “Hmph, big deal. An An made me a birthday cake.”
“Really?” Cecilia asked, her movements pausing.
I replied absentmindedly, “I know a bit.”
The next moment, Cecilia’s wine-red eyes blazed brighter, and she grabbed my hand. “Esteemed dessert master, please let me follow you!”
Evin reacted first, yanking Cecilia’s hand away and clinging to my arm. “I’m warning you, don’t make a move on An An!”
Cecilia didn’t look upset. “My apologies for my rudeness. I shouldn’t have acted so forward, but please trust my respect for the master.”
“I don’t know your motives, but if you want to join the An-God Sect, I’m the deputy leader. You’d be, like, a guardian at best.” Evin said.
“Is that so? Joining lets me follow the master?” Cecilia asked.
“Of course, but you can’t disrespect the deputy leader, the leader, or the god.” Evin said.
What is this nonsense?
Seeing their talk veer toward founding an illegal cult, I tapped Evin’s head to stop her chatter. “Don’t listen to her nonsense. If you want to be friends, I’m happy to. Just don’t use weird titles—they’re awkward.”
“Friends…?” Cecilia said, seeming to ponder.
Evin, forgetting her earlier pain, jumped in. “Right, friendship is a form of the An-God Sect, but me and An An have a higher, nobler lover—ow, wrong, wrong, I messed up!”
She got cross-locked before finishing.
Cecilia watched, thoughtful. “Is this how the sect expresses friendliness?”
“No, just friends messing around.” I said.
To avoid more misunderstandings, I released the troublemaker and coughed, changing the topic. “By the way, Cecilia, where are your parents? Why are they okay with you living here alone?”
“They’re busy collecting debts.” Cecilia said.
Work stuff, huh…
Wait, what?
“You mean… they’re busy with work, right?” I said, covering for her.
“Something like that.” Cecilia said, thinking. “Some deadbeats don’t pay, so we make them pay a price to learn their lesson.”
I didn’t just hear something I shouldn’t have…
“Is Cecilia’s family in the mafia? Foreign mob, so cool!” Evin said, biting her spoon, eyes sparkling.
Her words didn’t sound normal at all.
“No, besides debt collection, the family has legitimate businesses.” Cecilia clarified.
So, like a domestic debt collection agency?
I sighed in relief.
“The biggest earners are our casinos and nightclubs, then construction contracts and protection fees from various districts.” Cecilia added.
That’s your idea of legitimate?!
Before I could react, Cecilia dropped an even bigger bomb. “Those are surface operations. Underground, there’s military industry and arms smuggling, but I don’t know much. That’s my father and uncles’ domain. In fact…”
I covered her mouth, her wine-red eyes blinking in confusion.
I coughed. “Uh, Cecilia, isn’t that a bit too serious for a girls’ tea party?”
She didn’t seem to be joking, and her details were specific.
Her family might actually be mafia.
Better not dig too deep, or I might end up silenced.
“It’s interesting, An An! The mafia!” Evin said, pouting, her curiosity unsatisfied.
I glared at the overly curious girl. “Careful, or you’ll get nabbed and sold to some shady uncle.”
“Then I’ll rat out An An to join me in learning RIP.” Evin said.
“Think dirtier!” I snapped.
“Coal mining?” she asked.
“…I curse your summer homework to be torn up by shady uncles.” I said.
“So vicious! Reflect!” Evin shot back.
“Super reflect!” I countered.
“I see.” Cecilia said, observing our childish bickering, seeming to gain insight. “You’re right, I was too serious. Let me share a lighter topic—a joke from back home.”
Evin and I turned to her.
“Like, seven people, four cuts, three cakes—just chop four people, done.” Cecilia said.
You call that a light topic?!
Even Evin was shocked. “That’s brutal!”
Despite her usual weird thinking, she reacted normally here.
“You only need to chop one and halve the cakes.” Evin added.
“…Pfft.” I sputtered.
I take back what I said.
“While your method works…” Cecilia said, considering seriously, “it doesn’t align with our principle of maximizing profit.”
“No, no, fewer people mean more cake, but marginal utility decreases. Long-term, multilateral growth brings more opportunities and partnerships.” Evin said, shaking her head, her cute face unusually serious.
Can you two be normal?!
I coughed loudly, redirecting their attention. “Right, Cecilia, you said your father taught you to do something before eating desserts. That’s happened a lot, right?”
“Yes, Father said sweets are bad for growth, so I never had them growing up. Once, I saw fruit cookies on TV and begged him.” Cecilia said, nodding. “He agreed to let Mother make them, but I had to meet a condition.”
“What condition?” I asked, smiling, assuming it was a heartwarming parental tactic, like promising a chocolate cake for getting first in class.
“The first time was simple.” Cecilia said, biting her spoon, recalling.
Her father knows gradual encouragement. Nice parenting.
I thought, but the next moment, my smile froze.