The late spring morning light, with just the right warmth, shone through the clean window glass of Sun Guixiang's cottage, slanting onto the polished cement floor, reflecting bright spots of light.
In the small courtyard, the row of succulents at the foot of the wall are full of energy in the morning light, and the edges of the thick leaves of the "mung bean cakes" are showing a healthy pink halo.
Sun Guixiang, with her back hunched, shuttled between the small kitchen and the main room, as busy as a squirrel preparing for winter.
The old square table with peeling paint was wiped clean, and a piece of thick cotton cloth, washed to a pale color but starched to a stiff state, was spread on it.
Several coarse porcelain bowls of different sizes, a few old aluminum basins that were washed to a shine, and several wooden spoons and bamboo chopsticks of different lengths were all neatly placed aside.
There was a light of joy in Sun Guixiang's cloudy eyes. She carefully placed a large bag of snow-white glutinous rice flour and a small bag of bright yellow flour on the corner of the table, muttering to herself.
"Glutinous rice flour...wheat flour...red bean paste...lard...sugar...yeah, everything is here!"
"Today, we have to let our children try grandma's specialty red bean and glutinous rice cakes! Let the older sisters have a try too!"
"Sister Sun! We are here!" The fat aunt's voice arrived before she even showed up. Her loud voice scared away several sparrows foraging under the eaves.
She was carrying a heavy cloth bag in her hand, pushing open the half-open gate, her face smiling like a blooming peony.
Following behind him were Grandma Zhang, Grandpa Li, and a few other old friends from the tour group. None of them had anything empty in their hands - Grandma Zhang was holding a small basket of tender bean sprouts covered with dew that she had just picked from her own yard.
Grandpa Li was holding a simple earthenware jar containing his treasured, premium wild camellia honey; others were carrying freshly roasted peanuts, and others were holding their own pickled crispy radishes...
"Hey! Everyone's here! Come in, come in! It's a small place, so squeeze in!"
Sun Guixiang smiled so hard that the wrinkles on her face smoothed out, and she hurriedly let people in.
"Little boy!" Sun Guixiang immediately called him, her voice carrying a reassuring power.
"Hurry up, help grandma invite the grandparents to sit down!"
As she spoke, she walked over quickly, held his slightly cold hand very naturally, gently pulled him out of the shadow by the door, and brought him to the warm and lively center.
"Hello, Grandpa and Grandma." Ye Qingliu's voice was as clear as bones, and his tone was flat, without much emotion.
But he did not break free from Sun Guixiang's hand, nor did he immediately turn his head away to avoid sight like he did on the tour bus.
He calmly glanced at the familiar faces with warm smiles in front of him, nodded slightly, and completed the "greeting" task assigned by Grandma Sun.
"Good, good, good! Hello, little friend!" The old people immediately responded with a smile, their voices chattering in undisguised love.
The fat aunt was even more direct. She took a few steps forward and patted Ye Qingliu's shoulder as if she were patting her own grandson: "Oh, I haven't seen you for a few days. It seems that you have grown a little taller! You look more energetic!"
As soon as she raised her hand, the subtle, instinctive stiffness in Ye Qingliu's body had not yet fully manifested.
Sun Guixiang had already smiled and subtly blocked him: "Auntie, your hands are covered in dust! Come on, sit down! We have something serious to do today!"
She cleverly diverted the topic and pulled Ye Qingliu to the table, "Come, little friend, help grandma spread this cloth flat again, we are going to knead the dough!"
Ye Qingliu obediently walked to the table, stretched out his cold, slender fingers, and carefully and meticulously smoothed the originally smooth edges of the thick cotton cloth again and again until the edges formed an absolutely straight line.
Preparations are in full swing.
Sun Guixiang seemed to have become the commander-in-chief, tapping the table with her skinny fingers, her voice loud and rhythmic with the unique rhythm of the older generation:
"Auntie! Please, mix the glutinous rice flour and flour in a ratio of three to one. Yes, pour it on this big cloth!"
"Sister Zhang! Your bean sprouts are so delicious and juicy! Wash them later and we'll make some vegetarian dishes!"
"Brother Li! Keep an eye on your precious honey jar! We'll need it to make the red bean paste sweet later!"
"Master Wang, please help me bring this large aluminum basin to the kitchen and boil some hot water. I need warm water for kneading the dough!"
The old people responded with a smile and each took on a "task". The small main room instantly turned into a steaming workshop with clear division of labor.
The fat aunt rolled up her sleeves and generously poured the snow-white glutinous rice flour and bright yellow flour into the center of the thick cotton cloth, like sprinkling golden sand on the snow.
Her thick fingers began to stir, and the pink mist rose lightly, dancing in the slanting sunlight.
Ye Qingliu stood quietly beside Sun Guixiang, his gray-blue eyes observing everything intently through the lenses.
His eyes were particularly focused on the fat aunt's movements in stirring the mixed powder, and his brows furrowed slightly, almost imperceptibly.
In his opinion, the action was inefficient, the powder particles were distributed extremely unevenly, and even raised too much unnecessary dust.
His thin lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to point out a more optimized stirring path and force control method.
At this moment, Sun Guixiang stuffed a heavy earthenware bowl into his arms.
The bowl contains deep red red beans that have been soaked overnight and have absorbed a lot of water. Each bean is plump and round, like countless agate stones filled with sweetness.
"Little friend," Sun Guixiang's voice was filled with smiles and unquestionable trust.
"Help Grandma clean these red beans and pick out the bad and shriveled ones. Here, there's a small colander over there to catch the water."
Ye Qingliu lowered his eyes, his gaze falling on the quiet deep red in the coarse earthenware bowl in his arms.
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