Ethan remarked with a grin, "Ancestral Sage Eric Hart had a troublemaker grandson like Colin, yet still turned him into someone respectable. Clearly, the Sage must have left behind a manual for disciplining grandsons."
"I've already named this work," he continued, eyes gleaming. "When interpreted properly, it's The Analects. But when twisted—specifically for knocking sense into unruly grandsons—it becomes Fist Analects."
Elena Hart frowned. "What nonsense! The names sound identical!"
"No, no," Ethan chuckled, making a punching motion. "This 'Lun' means to swing fists."
"Then hurry up and eat," Elena retorted, rolling her sleeves. "Let's see what this violent parody of yours looks like." ...
"Angel (her given name)! Grind the ink!" Ethan barked, lounging like an emperor.
"Tch! Orderin
