After receiving the "praise" from his leader, Chen Pengfei's face turned red with excitement. He took pictures even harder and decided not to miss any details next time.
"..." Fang Xiaole glanced at him and reluctantly gave up the idea of holding his wife's hand.
At this moment, Lin Yao suddenly exclaimed "Ah" and ran to a stall in front with a curious look on her face.
This stall is very special. On one side is a burning stove, and on the stove is a frying pan. In the pan is melted brown sugar that has become soft and molten.
On the other side is a square white board, and next to the board is a round turntable that looks like it is used for lottery draws.
The simple wooden pointer is surrounded by patterns of cats, dogs, chickens, phoenixes, dragons, etc.
A white-haired old man was sitting behind the stall, gently mixing the melted brown sugar in the pan with a small spoon.
"Hello, Grandpa, what is this?"
Lin Yao asked curiously.
"Little girl, this is a sugar painting."
The old man said with a smile.
"Sugar painting is a traditional Chinese folk craft and one of the world's intangible cultural heritage. Didn't you see it when you were a child?"
Fang Xiaole asked.
“I didn’t go out much when I was a kid.”
Lin Yao said embarrassedly.
Fang Xiaole thought of Lin Yao's unhappy childhood and quickly whispered, "I'm sorry."
Lin Yao shook her head, indicating that it was okay. She asked curiously, "How do you make sugar paintings?"
"Little girl, for five dollars, spin the wheel. I'll draw whatever you turn with sugar water and give it to you. You can eat it."
"Drawing with sugar, but, Grandpa, you don't have a brush, how can you draw?"
Lin Yao became more and more curious.
"Old man, let's take a turn."
Seeing that Lin Yao was so interested, Fang Xiaole paid five dollars to the old man.
Then he said to Lin Yao, "You come and take a turn."
"Okay, okay." Lin Yao stretched out her slender fingers and gently pinched the wooden pointer. The little girl took a deep breath, and seemed to be more nervous than when she received the Golden Melody and Silver Dragon awards.
In the sunshine, on a busy pedestrian street, a charming and lovely girl put her hands together in front of her chest and prayed in an informal posture: "I want to turn into a dragon, I want to turn into a dragon."
Then he pushed the wooden pointer hard with his hand, his peach blossom eyes opened wide, staring at the rapidly spinning pointer intently.
In the nervous anticipation, the girl's hand habitually dropped and held Fang Xiaole's hand.
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