Mixing dough and rolling out wrappers, the filling that had been prepared early in the morning was ready—after a drizzle of hot oil, the cabbage and streaky pork mixture emitted a tantalizing fragrance. Four children gathered around the low kitchen table, peering eagerly.
Shen Meng, once a minor office worker who loved to cook during weekend days off, had now picked up cooking again, her skill gradually resembling something impressive.
"Mother, can Aunt Xifeng have one? She used to secretly cook eggs for me!" Lu Mingkai said as he swallowed hard.
Ming Fang, worrying that Mother might feel hurt, hurriedly said, "The dumplings are ready, Mother should eat first. You've not fully recovered, and you work every day. Ming Kai is right, isn't he?"
Shen Meng glanced at Ming Fang. You could really say that daughters are like intimate little cotton-padded jackets. In the span of less than half a month, she had grown so considerate.
