"You have a weak stomach, so eat less cold food."
The familiar voice, uttered in a flat tone, belonged to his eldest son, Leng Zimo.
Leng Lin put down the newspaper, only to find a steaming cup of hawthorn tea had appeared on the coffee table in front of him.
After years of military service, Leng Lin had earned innumerable honors, but not without great cost to his health; his stomach was just one of many issues.
When Mother Leng was still around, she used to prepare a cup of hot hawthorn tea before meals to stimulate his appetite.
Although Aunt Su always kept this tea on hand at home, Leng Lin had seldom made it to drink anymore.
Picking up the teacup, he sniffed the mildly sour aroma of the hawthorn tea hanging in the air and wiped his eyes, which had started to grow hot and sour.
"This acidity really hits you!"
Leng Zimo, who had walked over to the kitchen, heard his voice, smiled, and then entered the kitchen.
"Come, today I'll take a turn at cooking!"
