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... aying no.
Lin Wei’s fingers don’t leave Yizhen’s robe. They never did. But one hand loosened just enough for him to take the spoon. He watched it like it might turn into a knife, then lifted it in small, jerky motion and swallowed down the first bite.
Good. I counted that as a victory. No matter how small it was.
"Second bite," I said, already angling the bowl so he didn’t have to reach.
Across from us, Deming put a plate of fruit by my elbow. He didn’t make a spe ...
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