Chapter 66

When Liu Nüluo heard that familiar voice, she lifted the curtain of the carriage. Tang Yun, dressed in plain clothes, was standing by the roadside. Compared to the man in her memory, he looked far more haggard.

After all, they had been married for many years. Seeing him in such a sorry state, Liu Nüluo couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

“Nüluo, what happened that day was indeed due to my lack of foresight. It’s only natural that you blame me. But Jun’er is still young. He was expelled from the academy and ridiculed by others. Surely your anger has subsided by now?”

An’an picked up a small fruit the nanny had just given him and hurled it hard at Tang Yun. His aim wasn’t bad—Tang Yun clutched his head in pain. Looking at the little boy with his face full of proud defiance, he frowned and said softly:

“Nüluo, you’ve spoiled this child far too much.”

The moment he mentioned Jun’er, Liu Nüluo’s heart went cold. Now hearing him scold An’an, her expression turned equally frigid.

Before she could retort, Tang Yun was suddenly kicked to the ground, forced into a half-kneel, crying out in pain. Not far away stood a young general in military attire, arms crossed, sneering as he spoke:

“You took a slot meant for a Yue family child to attend the academy, and now you stand here complaining that others are too petty? I say you might as well stop buying paper and write everything straight on your thick skin. Wouldn’t that be more efficient?”

Tang Yun was a scholar—aloof, proud, and thin-skinned. His body trembled from the sting of the words, and coupled with the pain, he fainted on the spot.

The young general didn’t panic upon seeing him pass out. Instead, he walked over and gave him another disdainful kick, saying:

“Useless thing.”

Then he walked to the side of the carriage and took out a small, intricately made charm from the embroidered pouch at his waist, tossing it into Liu Nüluo’s arms.

The setting sun cast golden light on one side of Huo Siwei’s face, making him look even more radiant and high-spirited.

“Thanks for the safety charm you prayed for me that day. I really did return safely.”

Liu Nüluo stared blankly at the charm in her hand. Without her hand to hold it up, the carriage curtain fell, cutting off Huo Siwei’s burning gaze.

An’an leaned in and gently lifted the curtain again. Huo Siwei, who had been looking down, caught sight of the curtain rising and his eyes lit up—only to see a little face peeking out.

The nanny, knowing An’an liked looking outside and that the carriage was currently stopped and safe, didn’t stop him.

An’an held another large fruit in his other hand and stretched it out toward Huo Siwei.

“Yiya~”

Huo Siwei reached out and accepted it. Palace fruits were large—presumably to prevent children from accidentally swallowing them.

That brief moment had already been enough for Liu Nüluo to gather her thoughts. She grasped An’an’s hand and gently pulled him back.

An’an reacted quickly. Once one hand was held, he hastily waved the other toward Huo Siwei. That tiny gesture made Huo Siwei chuckle, his mood evidently lifted.

“Thank you.”

“Ya~”

Liu Nüluo didn’t intend for them to talk any further. She directly ordered the coachman:

“Let’s depart.”

“Yes, Miss.”

As the carriage began moving again, An’an folded one little hand over the other and closed his eyes to fake sleep, though his long lashes trembled restlessly.

Liu Nüluo clutched the charm tightly. It still felt warm, and her mind swirled with thoughts. She no longer had the heart to dig into it all.

That charm wasn’t something she had specially prayed for Huo Siwei. Before he left for the border, he had shamelessly snatched it from her hand.

Before meeting Tang Yun, because her parents didn’t overly restrict her, she wasn’t too mindful of propriety between men and women. Several times, she had disguised herself as a man and gone out drinking, boating, enjoying the spring scenery.

That was when she met Huo Siwei. He mocked her for being too weak to be a man; she mocked him for being an illiterate brute.

Later, he unexpectedly discovered her true gender. A few days later, it was time for him to go to war. He only took that charm from her—and then vanished without a trace.

Now, out of nowhere, she’d run into an old friend, and it was impossible not to recall those unrestrained, joyful days. Compared to the recent years, trapped in the rear courtyard of the Tang residence, endlessly revolving around Tang Yun—it all felt like a fleeting dream.

Before Liu Nüluo could dwell on it further, they had arrived at the Duke’s manor. When the carriage stopped, An’an tightly clutched her finger.

Feeling the pressure of his grip, Liu Nüluo felt her mood lighten. She gently withdrew her hand and told the nanny to carry him down quickly.

The argument on the road had been witnessed by both the Duchess and Liu Nüluo’s sister-in-law, but they hadn’t stepped in earlier as it wasn’t convenient. Now they hurried over to express concern.

“When you return to the estate, I’ll have your father arrange a few attendants for you. No matter where you go, take them with you. Understand?”

“Mm.”

Liu Nüluo didn’t want to see Tang Yun again. After so many years together, she understood his nature well. He had probably only come to find her to make her compromise and send the child back to the academy—there wasn’t a hint of remorse in him.

“That must’ve been the Huo family’s legitimate younger son.”

The Huo family was a military household. Unfortunately, the elder son was sickly and couldn’t train in martial arts, while the younger son showed real talent.

A few years ago, when foreign tribes invaded, the younger son went to the battlefield before even reaching adulthood. After years of fighting, he finally repelled the invaders and returned covered in glory—currently one of the most sought-after suitors among the noble ladies of the capital.

“Mm.”

Liu Nüluo had no interest in pursuing this topic. The Duchess didn’t press further, thinking she must just be tired from the palace visit. She instructed the nanny to take An’an to rest and let Liu Nüluo have a good break.

As An’an was carried away, his hand reached longingly toward the air, cheeks flushed with frustration. He silently vowed that when he grew up a little more, he’d never leave his mother’s side again! No more getting whisked away just like that.

His little hand clenched into a fist, his face full of determination.

“Oh, my dear precious grandson, finally you’re home.”

Just moments ago, An’an had been making serious internal promises, but now, hearing his grandfather’s voice, he gleefully reached his arms out.

Duke Liu picked him up into his arms.

“Did you have fun today? Although our courtyard can’t compare to the palace gardens, I specially asked someone to bring in some chrysanthemums.”

It wasn’t that Duke Liu couldn’t get better flowers, but he preferred to keep a low profile to avoid unnecessary trouble.

The Liu family was currently one of the most powerful noble houses in the empire—the Empress herself was from their lineage. They had to be extra cautious; if anything was leaked to the Emperor, the whole family could be in danger.

So for his dear grandson, he indulged for once and brought in a few beautiful pots of chrysanthemums for his own courtyard.

An’an didn’t dare admit that he had stared too long at the Empress Aunt earlier and had drooled a bit. Too embarrassed to look at her afterward, he covered his face and dozed off.

“Yaa~”

His chubby little hand waved in the air. Seeing how eager he was, Duke Liu chuckled and brought him over.

“Look—do you like them?”

Duke Liu had specifically instructed the steward not to worry about buying any rare or expensive varieties; what mattered was that the flowers looked fresh and colorful to please the child.

An’an stared at them eagerly for a long while. Duke Liu kept the boy’s little hand firmly in his own to stop him from reaching out to grab anything.

At this age, An’an was fascinated by everything he saw. He loved to touch things, and if something felt nice in his hands, he’d try to put it in his mouth.

One of Duke Liu’s close friends, a highly reputed divine physician, had once told him that the vast majority of illnesses stemmed from eating unclean food. Ever since, Duke Liu had been extremely cautious in such matters.

Besides, the imperial physician had recently taken An’an’s pulse and said that although the child wasn’t as frail as Nüluo had been back then, his body still needed proper nurturing.

A dazzling array of flowers stood there, and An’an looked at them with sheer joy.

That evening, the Duchess mentioned that she had run into Tang Yun on the road. Duke Liu’s brows furrowed deeply the moment he heard it.

“Seems like he’s still got too much time on his hands.”

Back when their daughter was involved, Duke Liu had held his tongue about many things Tang Yun did, even though he didn’t approve of them.

The entire Liu family had been cautious, enjoying the glory and prosperity their eldest daughter brought them, terrified of doing anything too conspicuous that might implicate the Empress at court.

But Tang Yun had been far more arrogant than any of them, leveraging the Duke’s household influence to do all kinds of things.

At the time, Duke Liu had willingly cleaned up Tang Yun’s messes for the sake of his daughter. Now that all ties had been severed, if Tang Yun still had the nerve to come around, he shouldn’t blame Duke Liu for being ruthless.

“When the eldest returns, have him come see me. I’ve got something for him to handle.”

Duke Liu turned and gave the order to his attendant. His eldest son was now a court official favored by the Emperor, often returning home late in the evening.

As soon as the eldest son got back to the estate, he was summoned to his father’s courtyard. After hearing his father’s instructions, he nodded without hesitation.

He didn’t think his father was being cruel at all. For people like Tang Yun who didn’t know their place, only tough measures could teach them a proper lesson so they’d never dare bother his sister again.

Ever since his uncle came in, little An’an, who had been lying down, couldn’t help perking up his ears to listen carefully.

When he heard his grandfather’s words, he clapped his hands happily.

Exactly! That’s the way to do it!

The eldest son, having returned so late, hadn’t even taken a sip of water. After greeting his father, he headed back to his own courtyard. Once he left, the Duchess sighed and asked:

“Isn’t this too heartless of you? He is An’an’s biological father after all. What if An’an grows up and resents us for this?”

The Duchess was much softer-hearted and thought further ahead, worried that the child her daughter worked so hard to raise might not remain close to her in the future.

Duke Liu never liked arguing with his wife over such matters. He simply picked up An’an, held him in his arms, and handed him over for her to look at carefully.

The little fellow’s eyes were sparkling, his small hands constantly clapping. Like a lively little caterpillar, he wriggled about, babbling cheerfully in three different tones—enough to show just how happy he was.

Seeing An’an in this state, the Duchess was momentarily speechless. After all, most kids would probably want to help their father if they saw him being treated like that.

But judging by An’an’s reaction, if he weren’t so small, he might have even kicked him a few times himself.

“Fine, fine. Let’s just pretend I never brought it up. You keep An’an close and raise him carefully. I refuse to believe a child you personally teach won’t grow up knowing right from wrong.”

That was exactly the kind of talk Duke Liu liked to hear. He enjoyed raising children. He had helped raise his younger siblings for his own parents, then raised his own children, and even took care of his grandkids for two years. Now it was his little grandson’s turn.

The kids he raised never turned out poorly. Even his dull-witted illegitimate younger brothers were now managing their own households just fine.

An’an was still giggling foolishly. In his past life, his adopted brother hadn’t been able to pass the exams and had constantly shown off his scholar status in front of him.

The system took one look at An’an’s clever, mischievous expression and gave up on reminding him of his mission. Especially now that he seemed genuinely happy with his life.

He had been treated as a tool by his birth parents, spent tens of thousands of years in a daze, unable to feel the passage of time in the darkness. Luckily, he had been very young then; otherwise, he would’ve lost his mind.

Feeling sorry for what he had gone through, the system now just wanted to let An’an live out this life happily, believing he had been reborn with great fortune.

Coincidentally, the objective in this world was to protect the Liu family and prevent them from becoming casualties during the change of dynasties.

As long as An’an loathed Tang Yun, and Liu Nüluo lived well, Duke Liu and the Duchess wouldn’t suffer from grief and pass away. With Duke Liu acting as a powerful protector, and the Crown Prince having made no mistakes, the mission wouldn’t be too difficult.

Speaking of child-rearing, Duke Liu suddenly thought about how An’an would need to start learning to read in three or four years. So he picked up a book and began reading it aloud next to the boy, hoping for some early influence through osmosis.

When An’an saw his grandfather approaching, he clapped happily. But the moment he noticed the book in his grandfather’s hand, his little face instantly fell.

Duke Liu had too much idle time at home, so he loved planning far ahead—especially for this little one he was now raising.

He didn’t expect An’an to become a marquis or prime minister one day. As long as he didn’t do anything outrageous, with his aunt and uncle around, his life would be peaceful and prosperous.

So Duke Liu didn’t pick any books focused on scholarly depth; he just wanted An’an to have a name for himself in the future, so others wouldn’t say he relied solely on his relatives.

The more An’an listened, the sleepier he got, and eventually, he just tilted his head and drifted off.

Duke Liu didn’t notice at first. When he suddenly realized the boy had been quiet for a while, he looked down and saw him fast asleep. Shaking his head helplessly, he set the book aside.

“This boy—no love for learning at all.”

He called the nanny in to carry the boy next door to sleep and couldn’t resist saying to his wife, “He’s nothing like Nüluo was at this age.”

The days were getting colder, and An’an had grown more reluctant to get out of bed. The nanny couldn’t wake him up at all.

Especially in the early mornings—no matter if it was his mother or grandfather coming personally to dig him out of bed—he would always crawl right back in.

For the first time, Liu Nüluo and Duke Liu felt that learning to crawl wasn’t such a good thing after all. Take now, for example.

If pushed too hard, he’d even force out a few fake tears, which looked far more convincing than his usual attempts at pretending to be pitiful.

Duke Liu felt sorry for him. After all, his little grandson wasn’t even a year old. It was perfectly normal to have these lazy little habits.

Thinking of An’an’s future, Duke Liu deliberately brought a book to sit at his bedside and read aloud, one word at a time.

Snuggled under the covers, An’an was woken by the sound of his grandfather’s reading. He slowly wriggled out, managing to leave only one ear exposed while reluctantly asking to get up.

Seeing him drooping like that, Duke Liu chuckled heartily. Even as the nanny helped him change clothes, he was still muttering away.

“You, honestly, are just someone who doesn’t know how good you have it. Do you know how many children are already being read to while still in the womb?”

An’an reached out to cover his ears and shut his eyes, clearly unwilling to listen.

Unable to get angry at his beloved little grandson, Duke Liu gently dressed him, fed him, and then carried him outside.

Today was the first snowfall since the start of winter. He had made plans with Duke Li to have tea and admire the snow in the latter’s courtyard.

Duke Li’s household was wealthier than the Liu family, and especially, his garden was a sight to behold—absolutely beautiful.

There was even flowing water diverted into the yard, with small boats that could float on it. It was a perfect setting for admiring the view.

An’an was still too young to resist whatever his grandfather wanted to do. Over time, he had simply learned to comply.

As long as his grandfather wrapped him up tight enough to keep the cold out, he would just go along with it.

At Duke Li’s estate, a thin layer of ice had formed on the lake’s surface. As they boated across, they could occasionally hear the sound of the ice cracking beneath the boat. Some dried yellow lotus leaves still stood in the water, their shapes taking on a poetic quality in the snowy breeze.

At first, An’an only came along because he had no choice. But later, he found his hands unconsciously reaching out to touch things as he quietly began to appreciate the view.

Say what you will—it really was beautiful.

Duke Liu glanced down and saw the absorbed expression on An’an’s little face. He took a sip of the wine he’d just warmed and smiled to himself—he knew this little fellow liked it here.

Snow began to fall again, a light layer blanketing the withered lotus leaves, making them look freshly dressed in white. An’an’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

In the small boat, the child’s “Waaah” of amazement and the clinking of wine cups between the two old men rose at the same time, a joy that even the wind and snow could not smother.

As they were about to leave, Duke Li instructed a servant to bring over a piece of jade he had prepared earlier. He handed it to Duke Liu with a scowl on his face.

“A belated gift from last time. You really had to come begging for it?”

Now that he had the gift in hand, Duke Liu didn’t care how Duke Li spoke to him. Smiling, he accepted it and even gave a mock bow.

“Many thanks to Your Grace for your generosity.”

Duke Li waved him off impatiently, turning his head away before the guest had even left, clearly hoping he’d just go.

On the carriage ride back, Duke Liu opened the box. Inside was a palm-sized piece of jade, with excellent luster. As he reached out to touch it, he was surprised to find it warm to the touch—his eyes lit up.

“Didn’t expect that old man to actually part with something this nice—warm jade, no less, as a greeting gift.”

He closed the lid and set it aside, planning to have the household staff store it away carefully when they returned. When An’an grew a bit older, he would let him wear it. Jade was said to nourish the body and was especially suitable for children like An’an, who had been frail since birth.

To say it hit Duke Liu right in the heart was no exaggeration.

Some time ago, Duke Liu had asked his half-brothers who were traveling for business to keep an eye out for any warm jade for sale. But it was rare and precious, and no good news had come yet.

An’an was still watching the snow. Since he looked so absorbed, Duke Liu didn’t disturb him. Instead, he casually recited a poem about the snowy scene, successfully catching An’an’s attention.

“Yah~”

“Suddenly, like a spring breeze overnight, thousands upon thousands of pear trees bloom.”
“Cen Shen’s poem. Beautifully written.”

With Duke Liu’s slightly aged voice blending with the sound of the wind outside, An’an unknowingly slipped into deep thought. Before long, they arrived home.

After returning to the manor, Duke Liu, still thinking about the warm jade, carried An’an to show it off to his wife. It made the trip worth it—braving the cold just to go out.

When the weather turned cold, it wasn’t just An’an who became sluggish. Liu Nüluo did as well. She used to visit An’an every day but now only came every couple of days.

In the blink of an eye, it was New Year’s Eve. By tradition, the emperor would host a banquet at the palace, and most high-ranking officials had to attend. Naturally, Duke Liu’s household couldn’t excuse themselves.

Since they expected to return late, An’an was left at home. A nanny held him in the courtyard, listening to the firecrackers going off outside. An’an was so frightened he covered his ears, his wide eyes full of fear.

After a while, he realized those things wouldn’t actually hurt him. He gave a little cough, trying to act like nothing had happened.

The older he got, the more thoughtful he became. His little head was full of strange thoughts these days, and he’d even developed a sense of pride.

Just then, he suddenly heard a soft chuckle. Startled, An’an instinctively turned his head, looking around to find who had spoken.

Huo Siwei was sitting on the wall. He tossed a pouch down in front of An’an from afar.

The nanny from Duke Liu’s household recognized young General Huo. She picked up the pouch and was still wondering what to do with it when Huo Siwei spoke again:

“Your lucky money.”

Here, it was customary for elders to give children who hadn’t yet reached coming-of-age a red envelope for the New Year. It didn’t have to be much—just symbolic.

As soon as An’an heard the words “lucky money,” he instinctively felt it must be valuable. He reached out his hands, asking the nanny to give it to him.

Huo Siwei watched An’an’s greedy little expression and chuckled again.

“What? Your mother went to the palace banquet and didn’t take you with her?”

An’an had just been about to happily open the pouch, but this sentence made him freeze. He puffed up his cheeks in anger and flung the pouch aside.

He turned to the nanny and stretched out his hands, clearly asking to be taken back inside.

Stupid pouch from that smelly man—who wants it?

Winter passed and spring came. When some of the trees in the back garden began to bud, Duke Liu started carrying the child out for strolls. An’an practically watched the leaves grow, bit by bit, turning from green shoots to fully unfurled foliage.

He always looked mesmerized when he saw such things. In his previous life, he hadn’t had much exposure to them. Every sign of life blooming felt magical to him.

He loved watching them. When he was watching, he stayed quiet. So Duke Liu let him be.

An’an watched the trees grow. Duke Liu watched his little grandson grow.

As the weather warmed, the heavy winter clothes were replaced with lighter ones. An’an, who had previously found everything cumbersome, now felt much freer, able once again to wriggle happily like a little caterpillar.

He still wasn’t very steady on his feet and needed help from the nanny. Two little front teeth had popped out, and when he smiled, they were adorably obvious.

Though Duke Liu’s courtyard wasn’t the most stunning around, it was still a lovely place.

Especially when the spring breeze blew—everywhere, even the countryside, was full of vitality. Let alone a well-tended back garden.

Liu Nüluo still liked to make clothes for An’an. Ever since she’d cut ties with Tang Yun, she hadn’t been keen on going out.

Those ladies and young misses were always trying new ways to comfort her. Even if she knew they meant well, it didn’t cheer her up. She went once, found it dull, and decided not to bother anymore.

She stayed at home helping her sister-in-law with accounting and house management, or embroidered handkerchiefs for herself and made new clothes for An’an. Occasionally, like before she was married, she’d dress in men’s clothing and go out to watch a play or enjoy the scenery.

Outsiders all thought Liu Nüluo had lost her spark after separating from her husband. They figured she was staying in the duke’s residence to reflect and refine herself. Some even speculated that she might retreat to the Buddha Hall and, in a few years, rumors would start that she’d become a nun.

No matter how the outside world speculated, Liu Nüluo never responded, even going so far as to forbid her relatives from speaking on her behalf.

Whether she was doing well or not, what need was there for others to comment?

The Duke of Liu was very satisfied with his daughter’s attitude when facing such matters. Only occasionally, when he was alone, did he feel a pang of heartache. He had long since come to terms with everything and didn’t think there was anything wrong with his daughter leaving such a man and returning home.

But in the eyes of the world, a woman’s life was only considered complete if she married into a good family. His daughter was still bound by this flawed thinking, and he was powerless to change it.

Fortunately, the Duke’s household was currently at the height of its prosperity, and the Empress herself looked after them. Few dared to speak such nonsense in front of them.

Liu Nüluo heard from her mother that her father had been tossing and turning for several nights, unable to sleep. Coupled with some recent rumors she’d inadvertently come across, she went to the kitchen and made a pot of soup each for her father and An’an, then brought them over.

She intended to have a proper conversation with her father about the matter, to let him know she wasn’t trying to be strong—she genuinely didn’t think that issue was worth her worry.

An’an was sitting on one side of the soft couch, and her father was seated across from him, with a chessboard set up between them.

“Father, An’an’s still so little—how could he possibly know how to play chess?”

The Duke frowned a bit at her words and called her over to take a look. Liu Nüluo did know how to play chess, but even after watching for a while, she couldn’t make sense of what the two were doing.

“Children of other families at his age wouldn’t know any of this! But look at An’an—he already knows where to place the pieces. You know what that means? That’s called talent!”

Liu Nüluo didn’t quite agree. From her perspective, no matter what An’an did, her father would sing his praises. And in this case, all An’an really knew was to place pieces where the lines crossed.

“If you ask me, he should start learning to read and write early. That way, he’ll develop some real talent as he grows.”

An’an, who had been leaning over the chessboard and thinking how fun it all was, suddenly straightened up upon hearing this.

“Bo, no, no ten-fu!”

His pronunciation was slurred and unclear, but his general meaning still came through.

The Duke and Liu Nüluo were both stunned for a second, then simultaneously burst into laughter as they looked at the little one sitting there nervously.

The Duke leaned over and gently pinched his chubby little cheek.

“Just now, Grandpa was only joking with your mother. But now… I’m not so sure. Were you pretending not to understand all along?”

An’an stiffened up and didn’t dare admit it. He flopped back down and pretended to be asleep. Only after making sure Grandpa wasn’t looking did he quietly pout—after all, Grandpa was always going on about how he’d teach him to read once he learned to talk.

The idea scared him so much that even if he vaguely felt he could speak, he wouldn’t dare open his mouth. He definitely didn’t want to spend his days like Grandpa, always buried in books. It was much more pleasant lying down and looking at flowers.

“Father, I came today because I wanted to talk to you about that matter…”

She couldn’t bear to see her father, at his age, still worrying about her and losing sleep over it.

“I know what you want to say. No need to speak—I understand it all.”

The Duke had lived this long, after all. He was certainly more clear-sighted than his daughter. The reason he couldn’t let go right away ultimately came down to heartache.

“Father, if I were to live my life based on others’ words, how could I possibly find happiness? No matter how well I live, people who want to talk will always find something to say. Besides, I truly feel I’m doing well now.”

There were no messy entanglements bothering her, and she no longer had to worry about upsetting Tang Yun with every little misstep.

Her sister-in-law was kind and generous—whenever she lent a hand, she’d receive all sorts of interesting little gifts in return.

“Enough, enough. If you don’t like going out, then don’t go out. Don’t believe what others say. What’s all this nonsense about a woman being incomplete if she doesn’t marry? Utter rubbish!”

“I know, Father.”

Liu Nüluo had completely let go of any thoughts in that direction. After walking past the gates of the underworld, all she wanted now was to raise An’an well.

She’d come this time mainly out of fear that her father would keep brooding over the matter and that it would affect his health. After all, he was getting older and couldn’t afford to be worn down.

“Come, let’s take a good look at An’an. Now that he can speak, how about he studies with Grandpa?”

An’an’s foot twitched slightly, but he stayed silent, determined to keep up the act. The Duke didn’t care whether he was really asleep or not—he just leaned over and scooped him up.

“Heaven and earth are mysterious and yellow, the universe vast and boundless.”

After reciting this, he seemed worried the little one wouldn’t cooperate. Glancing at him, he spotted the two pots of soup on the nearby table and said in a serious tone:

“If you don’t study properly, then the soup your mother made… won’t be for you.”

An’an had already caught a whiff of something fragrant in the room earlier, and now, realizing where the scent came from, he couldn’t help swallowing hard.

Knowing there was no point in pleading with Grandpa, he turned his head and stared longingly at his mother. Liu Nüluo, feeling a bit guilty, quickly looked away and made up an excuse.

“An’an, Mama’s going back to finish sewing your clothes. If I delay, I won’t get them done in time.”

An’an’s mouth dropped open as he watched his mother leave in shock. Then he turned to see Grandpa beaming at him. He pouted, took a deep sniff of the delicious scent in the air, and reluctantly began to recite:

“Tien dee shwan fang, yoo zow fung fang…”