Lu Zixiao was always quick. When he had finished wrapping all the buns and was ready to steam them, he looked at Xiaobao and said softly, "Xiaobao, call Jiayang and ask him what time he'll be back."
"Okay, I was thinking of playing that too."
Xiaobao turned on the screen of his phone and poked it with his finger. "I sent a message to my third brother half an hour ago, but he hasn't replied yet."
"He should be practicing, not looking at his phone," Lu Zixiao said, "Just call him directly."
Xiaobao nodded and then dialed Lu Jiayang's number.
In the past, as long as Lu Jiayang saw that it was Xiaobao calling, he would answer the phone immediately, if not within two or three rings. But this time, it kept beeping for a long time.
Just as the call was about to be disconnected, the other party finally answered.
"Hello? Baby, what's wrong?" Lu Jiayang seemed to be answering in a hurry, and his breathing was a little unstable.
"Third brother, when will you come back for dinner?" Xiao Bao asked softly, "Big brother made meat buns today, they are super delicious, and also made your favorite tomato and egg soup. Second brother also bought several kinds of cooked food."
"Really? It looks like dinner tonight is going to be quite sumptuous."
From time to time, there would be a rustling sound coming from Lu Jiayang's side, occasionally mixed with other people's voices, which sounded a bit noisy.
"Third brother, are you still busy?" Xiaobao asked subconsciously.
"Well... today's training isn't over yet," Lu Jiayang said. "Baby, you guys go eat first. You don't have to wait for me. Just leave two buns for me. I'll go back and eat them myself."
Xiaobao knew that ever since Lu Zixiao agreed to let him participate in the art student competition and enrolled him in a training class, Lu Jiayang worked very hard every day. He would practice whenever he had time. Everyone could see how much he wanted to be successfully selected.
According to Lu Jiaming, Lu Jiayang is either practicing or on his way to practice. He seems to be even busier than Lu Zixiao, who has to prepare for the college entrance examination while making money to support his family.
Xiaobao understands Lu Jiayang's thoughts very well and supports his efforts very much, but this does not affect the little guy's heartache and worry.
"So, what time will you be back, Third Brother? Don't be too late, it will be bad for your stomach."
"It won't be late, baby, don't worry." Lu Jiayang comforted him gently, "Just eat well and eat well. When your third brother gets home, he will give you a kiss, a hug and hold you high."
Xiaobao smiled softly and said, "Then you should come back earlier. If you are late, I might fall asleep."
"Okay, baby," Lu Jiayang responded with a smile, "As you wish."
After hanging up the phone, Xiaobao talked to Lu Zixiao, and then helped him to leave a separate portion of vegetables and soup for Lu Jiayang in the microwave, and wait until the buns were steamed before taking out a few for him.
While they were eating, Lu Yuxuan suddenly asked, "Where is Third Brother's training place? Is it far from our home?"
"It's not far, nor is it close," Lu Jiaming said. "I went there once when I delivered something to him, and then I didn't take a car when I came back. It took me about half an hour to walk home."
"You didn't come back running?" Lu Yuxuan looked at him suspiciously. "You have this stubborn energy that you can't release anywhere..."
Lu Jiaming sighed. "Am I a sports student? Why would I practice long-distance running when I have nothing better to do? I fucking walked back here!"
"Oh," Lu Yuxuan muttered softly, "Why are you so anxious? I just thought that if it took you half an hour to run back, it must be quite far."
"Don't think about it," Lu Jiaming said, "I can walk faster than you, short legs."
Another short-legged Xiaobao who was accidentally injured inexplicably: "?"
"Who's saying my legs are short?" Lu Yuxuan yelled, "I haven't grown up yet. When I grow taller, I might be taller than you!"
"Okay, okay, I'll wait," Lu Jiaming replied perfunctorily. He then looked at Lu Zixiao and said, "Brother, have you saved all the buns for Third Brother?"
"Well, I'll keep them all," Lu Zixiao said, "You guys eat yours, his is enough."
“Actually, I have a suggestion.”
Lu Ziyi took out a tissue and wiped his mouth, then said slowly: "Why don't we go pick up Jiayang right after dinner? It's not far anyway, so we can just treat it as a digestive aid after dinner."
"Oh, right, we can bring the buns to Third Brother." Xiao Bao's eyes lit up. "That way Third Brother can eat earlier, and we can also see where he trains."
Lu Ziyi chuckled and raised his hand to pinch his chubby little face. "Xiaobao, have you always wanted to see Jiayang practicing seriously?"
The little guy, whose inner thoughts were suddenly revealed, chuckled and said, "I really want to go, but I'm always afraid that going will cause trouble for my third brother."
"It should be fine at this time," Lu Jiaming glanced at the clock. "It's already evening, there shouldn't be many people in the training room."
"It won't matter if there are too many people," Lu Yuxuan said. "At worst, we can just wait for him outside. I remember the video my third brother posted before. The training room was surrounded by glass, so you could see inside and outside."
"Then go ahead."
Finally, Lu Zixiao made the decision, "I'll put all the food in a thermos later, and I'll leave when you're done packing."
"OK" Xiaobao and others responded in unison.
Every time the brothers had the same goal, they would tacitly start to divide the work among themselves, with high efficiency and speed. In a short while, they changed their clothes and walked towards the training room with their thermoses in hand as if taking a stroll.
Lu Jiayang's training class is in an office building, which is part of a small business district. There is almost a security booth at the entrance of each building, and it seems quite strict.
As they walked to the door of the building, they saw the security guard stick his head out and said something to them in a gibberish voice.
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