"This rice is quite good, pretty tasty. It's not easy—it's been so long, but at last, we're able to taste the fruits of our son's labor," Mrs. Han said with a hearty laugh.
"What do you mean? Didn't I leave some green onions at home earlier? They should be great for cold noodles," Han Qiwu retorted, unconvinced.
Mrs. Han swiftly fished out a large onion slice from the dish and placed it into Han Qiwu's bowl, "Green onions? Here's your green onion—its slices are as big as two thumbs."
Han Qiwu: "....."
Did I somehow grow our green onions into a tic-tac-toe grid?
After finishing their meal, the family of three rested for a while before hopping into Han Qiwu's uncle's car from the same neighborhood and heading toward their hometown, Han Family Village.
The uncle was kind-hearted but not very talkative. Upon seeing Han Qiwu, he gave him a warm hug and then drove off.
On the way, Han Qiwu took out his phone and started messaging Tang Qingying.
