Addison did not get it. "If I say, there's a mom with two sons ... "She only cooks for the older one, willing to hurt her hands to make dishes he loves, but she never pays attention to the younger one. "It's like the younger son doesn't exist in her heart. "She knows the older son loves mashed potatoes, but what about the younger son? She probably doesn't even know his favorite food." Lance sneered after saying this. "Do you still think this mom is great?" His eyes were piercing, like he was cutting through the air with them. Hearing this from Lance, Addison suddenly felt like he was not just telling a story, but maybe hinting at something real. "Um ... " Addison bit her lip and stayed quiet. Looking at Lance's intense expression, she recalled something Harvey had once mentioned about his family. Thinking it over, a surprising thought struck her.Could the mom in the story actually be Marilyn? And the two sons, could they be Harvey and Lance? Addison's thoughts raced. She knew about the strained relationship between Harvey and Lance, and she was aware of the Walter's preference for Harvey. This realization nearly convinced her that Lance was speaking about his own family situation with Marilyn and Harvey. Did Marilyn also show favoritism toward Harvey like their father? She only knew Walter treated Harvey exceptionally well, but Marilyn's feelings were new to her. Even though Marilyn might be in the wrong, Addison thought, this was ultimately the Johnston family's internal issue, and as an outsider, it felt wrong to pass judgment. Addison sat back down, managing a forced smile as she slid the plate of mashed potatoes toward Lance. "Um, why not try the mashed potatoes? They're actually quite delicious." She was clearly trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. However, Lance stared at the dish, his thoughts clouded with memories of Harvey and the neglect he had endured growing up.This association made him visibly uncomfortable. "I'm not eating it. Take it away," Lance stated coldly, his lips forming a tight line. "This is really quite good, you should try it. Don't hold a grudge against it," Addison attempted to soothe him. However, Lance had lost his patience and snapped, "Take it away! I don't want to see this dish." His voice made Addison's hand tremble as she held the plate. "Okay, okay, I'll take it away. Why are you yelling at me?" Addison pursed her lips, took a deep breath to calm herself, and then removed the dish of mashed potatoes. "Then try some of the other dishes," she suggested, pointing to the various other dishes laid out on the table. To her dismay, Lance's scowl deepened as he surveyed the table, his dissatisfaction apparent. It seemed that all the dishes, like the mashed potatoes, were repulsive to him."Take them all away. I don't like them," he declared curtly, leaving Addison shocked. That did not make sense; she had specifically ordered several dishes she knew Lance loved. "Are you really going to send them back? I thought you especially liked these bamboo shoots, right?" Addison murmured to herself, feeling a bit regretful. However, Lance's reaction was unexpected; his pupils shrank as if he had heard something shocking. "Say it again," he demanded, struggling to keep his emotions under control, his forehead veins bulging slightly. "What?" Addison blinked, puzzled by his reaction. Lance gritted his teeth. "I said repeat what you just said." "Repeat what I just said?" Although Addison was confused about why she needed to repeat herself, she tried to remember her previous words and repeated, "I said weren't you the one who especially liked these bamboo shoots?" Addison blinked innocently, her eyelashes fluttering, completely unaware of the tension building. "Is there a problem?""A problem? You actually ask me if there's a problem?" Lance laughed mockingly, his voice dripping with scorn. A chilling intensity passed through his gaze, startling Addison and making her feel both confused and alarmed by his reaction. "I ... " she stammered, genuinely clueless about what was wrong. "I have never eaten bamboo shoots before," Lance stated slowly, each word deliberate and weighted, especially emphasizing, "never eaten." His gaze bore into her, almost as if he wanted to see right through Addison.