Ye Qingliu's stiff body gradually relaxed under the warmth and steady guidance of Grandma Sun's palm.
The initial panic and surprise were replaced by a brand new learning experience.
He felt the mass beneath his palm changing shape under pressure, from its initial wet, sticky mess to its gradual clumping together, and then developing a strange flexibility and luster...
He no longer tried to control it with absolute rationality, but learned to feel the "temper" of the substance and adapt to its characteristics.
Although the movements were still a bit awkward and cautious, the concentration had transformed from cold observation to warm participation.
Ye Qingliu lowered his head slightly, his gray-blue eyes focused on his and Grandma Sun's folded hands, watching the white substance gradually become smooth and flexible as he kneaded it.
The traces of wiping on the face seemed to still have some imperceptible white marks, which strangely revealed a bit of clumsy cuteness on the cold white skin.
The fat aunts and the others watched the children conquer the difficult ball of flour bit by bit under Sun Guixiang's hands-on teaching, and the smiles on their faces became even more loving.
"Look how quickly he learns!"
"That's right! With Sister Sun's guidance, it will definitely work!"
"This kid is so serious, it makes me feel sorry for him!"
Ye Qingliu was in the warm and bustling center, with his head lowered, kneading the dough carefully and meticulously.
His fingertips were covered in white powder, and there were some unwiped marks on his cold, pale cheeks.
He is no longer the lofty observer. He has become tainted by the mundane world, clumsy but real.
The smooth and flexible glutinous rice dough was divided into small, evenly sized pieces. The deep purple, shiny, and tempting red bean paste was also divided into small, equal-sized balls.
Next comes the crucial step of wrapping the pancake.
The old people sat around the table and each received a task.
The fat aunt was in charge of rolling out the dough. She moved skillfully and her wrists flew, and round glutinous rice doughs of appropriate thickness were quickly produced under her hands.
Grandma Zhang and Grandpa Li were in charge of wrapping the dumplings. With a flick of their fingers, they wrapped the red bean paste into the dough, closed the opening, and then gently flattened it into a round cake shape. Although their movements were not as dexterous as those of young people, they were done with a familiarity that came from years of practice.
Ye Qingliu sat quietly beside Sun Guixiang, his gray-blue eyes observing every step attentively.
Ye Qingliu reached out and picked up a piece of glutinous rice wrapper that the plump aunt had rolled out. The wrapper was soft and slightly sticky, with the fragrance of glutinous rice.
He held it carefully with his fingertips, and with his other hand he picked up a small ball of shiny red bean paste and placed it precisely in the center of the skin.
The proportions are perfect, like a calculated formula.
Then, he imitated Grandma Zhang's movements, trying to gather and close the edges of the leather to seal the ball of deep purple sweetness.
However, the gap between theory and practice once again emerged.
The soft and sticky leather, like a rebellious elf, stuck to his fingertips, which were too clean and not stained with enough dry powder, the moment he tried to close it.
When he exerted force, the leather did not close but was torn open instead, and the dark purple bean paste mischievously peeked out from the gap.
Ye Qingliu's fingers froze again, his gray-blue eyes staring at the "failed product", his brows slightly furrowed, as if he was examining a malfunctioning experimental sample.
"Oh! It's broken!" Grandma Zhang, who was standing next to her, was quick-eyed and immediately pointed out with a smile, "Little boy, dip your fingers in some dry powder! It won't stick to your hands! Look at grandma doing this..."
She picked up a small dough, rolled it in the dry powder bowl next to her, and coated her fingers with powder, which made it much smoother when she wrapped it.
Ye Qingliu silently glanced at the small bowl of dry powder next to him.
He extended his index finger and, with extreme precision, picked up only a tiny bit of powder at the very tip of his finger, as if taking a micro-sample.
Then he picked up another glutinous rice wrapper and repeated the previous action.
This time, his fingertips, dipped in dry powder, moved much more smoothly. He carefully gathered the edges of the leather, pinched them tightly, and closed them.
Although his movements were still a bit awkward and cautious, and his speed was as slow as if he was dismantling a bomb, a round glutinous rice ball without any cracks was finally born in his palm.
He gently placed it on the powdered chopping board, as if placing a finished work.
"Yes! Just like that! Pinch the opening tightly!" Sun Guixiang watched from the side, her cloudy eyes full of smiles and encouragement.
"What a clever kid! He learns quickly!"
Ye Qingliu did not respond, but his eyes fell on the first successful glutinous rice ball.
He extended his index finger and tapped the smooth, round surface very lightly, as if to confirm its completion.
Then, he picked up the next skin and repeated the steps of coating it with flour, putting in stuffing, and closing it.
The movements are still slow, but they are getting smoother and smoother, and closer to the standard of "perfection" each time.
Ye Qingliu wrapped it with concentration, his long eyelashes drooping, casting a small shadow on his cold white cheek.
His fingertips were inevitably stained with more glutinous rice flour, and even a little fine white powder, which inadvertently stained the tips of his drooping, crow-feather-like eyelashes as he breathed in concentration.
That bit of white, falling between his cold and delicate eyebrows, formed a strange contrast that was almost holy yet had a worldly air.
The fat aunt rolled out the dough very quickly. Soon, there were several round little dumplings in front of Ye Qingliu that he had wrapped himself.
Each one is of uniform size, tightly sealed, and lies quietly on the chopping board, like a row of white soldiers waiting for inspection.
Grandpa Li came over to take a look and couldn't help but admire: "Oh my! This kid's craftsmanship! They are evenly proportioned, even better than mine, who have been wrapping for decades! Look at the seam, how neat it is!"
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