Nakamura Yue's house was in a very quiet alley, not in a residential area, but a detached house. There was a plaque hanging at the door, and Ye Qingqing recognized the name Nakamura. It was probably similar to the Chinese "palace residence" or some kind of mansion.

The entrance to the house was filled with flowers, and it was arranged very beautifully and was very clean and tidy. When it comes to hygiene, China is truly amazing.

Nakamura Yue led Ye Qingqing into the house, which was also clean and elegant, and looked very comfortable. An old lady in home clothes was sitting in a rattan chair by the window knitting a sweater and sunbathing. Hearing the noise at the door, she turned her head and showed a kind smile.

"Little Youjiang is back! Mom was just missing you!"

Nakamura Yue blushed. He was already a man, but his mother still liked to call him Yue because he was the youngest son she gave birth to at the age of forty-seven, risking her life. His eldest niece was six years older than him, and he had several other nephews and nieces who were older than him.

In other families, older sisters and brothers take care of younger brothers, but his family is different. His nieces and nephews take him out to play, and if he is bullied outside, his nephews will stand up for him.

He certainly had a good relationship with his older brothers and sisters, but they all treated him like a son. However, he had a deeper relationship with his nephews, with whom he could confide in them.

The whole family calls him Xiao Youjiang, including his nephews.

well!

So frustrating.

Nakamura Yue secretly rejoiced, thankful that Ye Qingqing didn't hear him, otherwise he would have been terribly embarrassed.

"Mom, this is the Chinese miracle doctor I mentioned last time. I specially invited her to treat your illness," Nakamura Yue introduced Ye Qingqing.

Mrs. Nakamura stood up. She was short, with a slightly hunched back, her face marked by the passage of time, and her hair was gray, but she looked very kind and was a gentle old lady.

Ye Qingqing noticed that the old lady was knitting a small pink garment that didn't look like it was meant for a person to wear because it was too small.

She soon found out who it was for, because on the old lady's wicker chair, an incredibly fat orange cat was lazily lying down, sleeping with its eyes half-closed. When she entered the room, it only lifted its eyelids slightly before continuing to sleep.

The orange cat was wearing a light green sweater, a lovely pink color. The old lady had even knitted a heart on it and a matching pink bow, dressing the cat up like a little princess.

Ye Qingqing bowed to the old lady. She had a very good impression of this Mrs. Nakamura. She was so loving towards a cat, she must be a kind person.

The old lady's first words surprised Ye Qingqing even more. Her accent was pure Northeastern Mandarin, without the slightest deviation. If she hadn't spoken fluent Japanese earlier, Ye Qingqing would have truly believed that the old lady was from Northeast China.

"You're a really pretty girl. Sit down, make yourself at home. When you come home for lunch, I'll make you some pork and cabbage dumplings."

The familiar Northeastern dialect gave Ye Qingqing the illusion of returning home; her Chinese was hundreds of times better than Nakamura Yue's.

The old lady was an impatient person; once she decided to get started, she put on her apron, rolled up her sleeves, and went into the kitchen. She brought out a large basin filled with the mixed filling, followed by another basin, a large board, and a rolling pin. The basin contained a large lump of rested dough. It seemed the old lady had planned to make dumplings in advance, and she just happened to be there.