"TAP, TAP, TAP..."
Qinghe sat at the very corner of the table, silently observing the others bustling about. His hook-like claws tapped lightly on the tabletop, the almost inaudible rhythm seemingly narrating his boredom.
Another wooden board was placed on the table.
Huai Xu claimed he had years of experience watching others make naan, so he eagerly volunteered to knead the dough.
Zheng Zhilan guided him by the side.
And believe it or not, the old demon was quite adept at this manual labor. He quickly kneaded the dough into what they called the 'three-shines' state: clean hands, no residual flour in the bowl, and a smooth surface on the dough.
"All set," Qinghe said from the side.
Zheng Zhilan leaned in for a closer look, then gently pressed the dough with her fingertip. Satisfied, she nodded, fetched some plastic wrap, covered the bowl with it, and had Qinghe slice the wrap neatly with a swipe of his claw. Thus, Qinghe also contributed to the dumpling-making.
