Yang Jing saw this, and his heart ached.
He knew his family's habit of always saving the best things for him. Persuading them was useless, so he didn't say much. Instead, he simply used his chopsticks to place some meat into Yang An's bowl a few times. "Brother An, you should eat more too. You need to replenish your nutrients even more when you're training your strength."
Yang An accepted it with his head down, his mouth stuffed full. He mumbled, "Mhm, thanks, Brother Jing."
Halfway through the meal, his grandfather, Elder Yang, put down his chopsticks. He took out a pouch of dry tobacco and, after lighting his pipe, slowly asked, "Jing'Er, you're in the city. Haven't you met any girls you fancy?"
Yang Jing was taken aback. He shook his head. "No, Grandfather. I spend all my days training at the Martial Arts Hall. I don't have the time to think about such things."