He Tiantian did not delay, wiped her hands with a handkerchief, and then took out a piece of osmanthus cake from the pastry box, carefully feeding it to Wei Yuanniang.
The osmanthus cake was indeed not very fresh anymore; it must have been made about two or three days ago.
But its sweet fragrance and soft, glutinous texture still made Wei Yuanniang's mouth water.
Feng Yanting had finished his cornbread and turned his head, only to see Wei Yuanniang devouring two pieces of osmanthus cake.
Ah, how disheartening!
The heart that had just floated aloft was instantly plunged into the abyss.
Mom was playing favorites!
Mom didn't love me anymore!
Such thoughts occupied Feng Yanting's heart.
Yet, how could such a young child know of the cruelty of reality and the wickedness of human hearts?
Following that, something even more upsetting happened—
The carriage jolted, the wooden wheels rolling over the yellow earth with a rumbling sound.
