Tomas never spoke Chinese, the grandmaster earlier tried to teach him but never got the chance as he died later on. Years later, you found your self—the sibling of kuai liang and bi Han sitting in the sacred garden. Spring leaves fell around you, the breeze making the wind chimes sing. Birds chirping as you tried to teach him.

“Ok. you are called 哥哥, that’s gêgê = brother”

you explain as he nods. “ger ger? Is that right?” you giggle quietly. “uhh more or less”