It was Sunday, and Jiang Nian and Song Yingying were going to set up a stall at the market. There happened to be no classes at school on Sunday, so there was no one to take care of the children of both families.

Huang Guixiang came early in the morning with her son Wang Dazhuang to pick up Xiao Anbao and Zhao Xiaobei.

Little Anbao was well fed and had wiped his little mouth clean. He was wearing the clothes and a little bib bought for him. When he saw Huang Guixiang, he showed his dimples and called her "Auntie" sweetly.

Huang Guixiang was so happy that the wrinkles on her face were revealed by her smile.

"Hey! Little baby, come to your aunt's arms! Would you like to go to your aunt's house to play tomorrow?"

Wang Dazhu, who was standing by, pulled at Huang Guixiang's clothes, stood on tiptoes and kept looking up, "Mom! Let me see sister An An! Let me hug her! Let me hug her!"

How dare Huang Guixiang give little An Baobao to Wang Dazhuang? "Go, go, go, go away. With your limited strength, how can you hold An An? What if he falls? Don't make trouble."

"Mom, I can do it—I can do it—Mom, I can do it—"

No matter how Wang Dazhuang shouted, Huang Guixiang never raised her head or looked at him, pretending she heard nothing.

What a good mother she is. She doesn't even recognize her own son.

Huang Guixiang always wanted to have a daughter, but she was already seventy years old after giving birth to Wang Dazhuang, and there was no more movement in her belly. Now she is a little older and no longer wants a child as much as before.

But when I see other girls, I love and adore them from the bottom of my heart.

Huang Guixiang held little Anbao in her arms and chatted with Jiang Nian, "Isn't Sister Song's house ready yet?"

As soon as the words were spoken, a voice came from the other side.

"Here we come—here we come—here we come."

Song Yingying and Zhao Xiaobei hurried out of the house.

She has been in the compound for more than a month and is completely familiar with life in the compound, except that she is still not very familiar with the stove for making fire and cooking.

One morning, she accidentally burned the pancakes, causing Zhao Xiaobei and Zhao Weidong to almost miss breakfast.

Jiang Nian in the next room could smell the burning smell.

Song Yingying was anxious to remake it, but that would mean she would have to knead the dough again.

Zhao Weidong was under time constraints in the army and had to go out at a certain time. He couldn't wait for Song Yingying to make it again, so he rolled up the burnt sesame bun, put a scallion inside it, and dipped it in some soybean paste. Even though the outside of the sesame bun was covered in black, he stuffed it into his mouth without hesitation.

"Don't eat them. They're all burnt."

Song Yingying hurried to stop Zhao Weidong.

But Zhao Weidong took a big bite and put it into his mouth without hesitation.

The rough man said indifferently, "It's all food. It doesn't matter if it's burnt or not. It won't kill you."

He just held the scallion-wrapped pancake in his mouth, put on his military jacket, and strode out of the house.

Song Yingying looked at Zhao Weidong's back and blushed belatedly. Zhao Xiaobei was waiting for her breakfast with an empty stomach beside her, so she hurried back to the kitchen and kneaded the dough again to make sesame cakes.

The second time, Song Yingying was finally not burnt.

Of course, Zhao Xiaobei’s contribution was also evident in the fact that he sat in front of the stove and helped him control the temperature.

Both of them had a delicious breakfast.

All this trouble wasted some time, so that Song Yingying went out a little later than usual.

Song Yingying prepared a backpack for Zhao Xiaobei, which contained a few picture books, some snacks and biscuits.

She told him, "Xiaobei, eat the snacks and biscuits with brother Dazhuang. Have fun together and don't quarrel."