"Big Brother, I..." Bok Taejin started to explain, but Im Beomhyeon had already grabbed him with one hand while still holding the firewood with the other a d striding forward quickly.
"Cut the nonsense! Hurry up! The at bone soup today slls damn amazing! It's seems like the Second Uncle's cooking! If we don't hurry, those bastards might snatch it all up!"
Bok Taejin had no idea what was happening but was dragged along at a run.
With his small arms and legs, he was practically sprinting, though for Im Beomhyeon, it was rely a brisk walk.
Soon, Bok Taejin arrived at the source of the mouthwatering aroma.
In the open space in front of the ancestral hall, several stoves made of clay bricks had been set up.
Large pots sat atop them, steam rising into the air, carrying the rich scent of the simring broth.
Bok Taejin couldn't help but swallowed his saliva.
An elderly man who is tending the fire beside the stove slowly lifted his eyelids and cast a glance at Bok Taejin.
Without a word, he got up, reached into a basket of bowls and chopsticks, and picked out a large bowl.
He then scooped a generous portion of broth from the pot, with chunks of at floating in it.
The mont the pot lid was lifted, the aroma in the air beca even stronger.
Not to ntion the starving Bok Taejin—even Im Beomhyeon couldn't help but gulp loudly.
Im Beomhyeon quickly put down the firewood he had been carrying and reached out for the bowl of soup, exclaiming, "Second Uncle, you really understand ! You knew I was hungry..."
Before he could finish his sentence, he watched as the elderly man's hand, which was offering the bowl of soup, suddenly changed direction.
With a fierce glare, the old man instantly turned stern and scolded, "What are you thinking?! You greedy brat! This isn't for you!"
Bok Taejin blinked his eyes, suddenly realizing sothing but unsure if he was right.
Im Beomhyeon withdrew his hand sullenly and nudged Bok Taejin with his elbow. "It's for you. Go ahead and fill your stomach first."
The nudge nearly sent Bok Taejin stumbling.
For a mont, he suspected Im Beomhyeon was deliberately trying to embarrass him because he was upset about not getting the soup.
Im Beomhyeon had already plopped down onto the ground, picking up a long piece of firewood beside him.
With a firm twist of both hands, he snapped it in half and tossed it into the stove, taking over the fire-tending from Second Uncle.
He clicked his tongue and sighed, "Kid, hurry up and drink. Once that bunch cos back, with your small fra, snatching food from their mouths won't be easy."
Im Beomhyeon spoke loudly, and with the open space around them, his voice carried far.
Not far away, a man erged from behind a row of single-story houses while carrying a large wooden bucket with a lid.
He chuckled and scolded, "Im Beomhyeon, what nonsense are you spouting? Even if we fight over food, at most, we'd fight you for it. What kind of bastard would have so little guts as to fight a kid for food? The only one who used to do that was you—always stealing food from us younger ones."
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