Then roll it out into a thin pancake, prepare one or two, and start heating the oil pan again.

Originally, a thin layer of oil was needed before putting the dough into the pan to bake, but because there was still a layer of oil left in the pan from rendering pork fat, it was put in directly to bake.

Wang Yitong placed the dough in the pan and waited for two or three minutes until she saw the color of the pancake change. She then deftly flipped it with a spatula, her movements so quick that no one would notice her actions unless they were watching closely.

Wang Yitong kept a close eye on it the whole time, and when she saw that it was almost done, she would quickly flip it over until both sides were golden brown, and then she would scoop it out deftly.

With a simple rolling, flipping, and scooping motion, she accomplished what should have been a task for two people, all by herself with remarkable efficiency and skill.

More than half an hour later, Wang Yitong finally finished making the pancakes.

On the large tray were more than thirty pork crackling pancakes, big and round, exuding the aroma of meat and vegetables, making them incredibly appetizing and tempting to eat.

After Wang Yitong finished, she buried the embers in the earthen stove, washed her hands, and turned around to go to the outer room to call Yingbao and the others for dinner. But just as she reached the door, she suddenly seemed to remember something, turned back, grabbed a kitchen knife, and made three cuts on the thirty-odd pancakes: one to the left and right, one up and down, and one in the middle.

The freshly baked lard pancakes were cut into many small triangles by Wang Yitong, making them easier to pick up and eat.

"Oh yeah."

...

Wang Yitong walked briskly, and in no time she reached the outer room.

I could only vaguely hear the whispers of the three little ones, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.

When I opened the door, good heavens, she was saying, "Why can't I hear anything?"

There, Yingbao, Ye Mingchen, and Ye Zilin were sitting head to head, seemingly plotting something. Wang Yitong was quite impressive to be able to understand her youngest son's excited, unheard-of words.

"No... what do you mean? Does your youngest son mean he won't?"

While thinking to herself, Wang Yitong casually asked, "What were you two talking about, head to head? And in such low voices?"

Yingbao, Ye Mingchen, and Ye Zilin looked at each other for a moment, then said in unison, "Mother... Third Aunt, we didn't say anything."

As he spoke, he shook his head seriously, as if nothing was wrong, as if Wang Yitong was overthinking things.

...

"My goodness!" It's all because of that kid's personality—he gets all carried away when he gets food. This crybaby must have had his mother hear what he just said, even if she didn't hear the whole thing, she must have heard a word or two.

If she hadn't cultivated a superior martial art and heard her mother's footsteps, stopping her brother from saying the rest, she knew she would have been scolded again.

As Yingbao thought about it, she couldn't help but glare fiercely at Ye Mingchen, the young man.

Ye Mingchen looked at Yingbao with a puzzled expression and couldn't help but wonder, "What did he do to offend little sister Yingbao this time? Why is he glaring at him?" Looking at Yingbao's eyes, it was as if she wanted to tear him apart.

"Waaaaah... Mother, come quickly and take your precious son 'Zilin' home. Yingbao, Mingchen, the atmosphere between Third Aunt is so strange, it's making my scalp tingle."

Ye Zilin appeared to be standing quietly to the side, but in reality, he was already having a whole drama unfold in his mind.