Hannah looked at Mag, who came to fetch her, and seriously said, "Boss, why don't we give up on brewing? I think I'm quite good at serving the dishes."
"Don't you think you would be letting your grandpa down like this?" Mag frowned.
"I think he passed away rather peacefully. He didn't seem to have the conviction to pass on the rum," Hannah lamented.
Mag didn't say anything. He just looked at her quietly.
"I'm not thinking that serving dishes is easy. It's just that… It's just that… Uncle, I don't want to try anymore…" Hannah was on the brink of bursting into tears. "I don't want to draw anymore… I don't want to draw anymore…
"There you are." Mag took out a stack of drawings, and waved them in front of Hannah.
"What's this?" Hannah looked at those blueprints with narrowed eyes, feeling a sense of familiarity.
