After carefully separating the dust-covered and clean pastries, she placed the walnuts and raisins on the clean portion, handing them to Abudan. "Eat up, they're really tasty."
Abudan took the pastries and, like a little dog, first sniffed them under his nose, then licked one, his small mouth spreading into a smile, "Sister, you eat too."
The little girl only had some dirty pastry crumbs left in her hand, but she still poured them into her mouth. Just as she was about to savor the deliciousness of the Baklava, she heard a "crack" — she had bitten into a stone.
Abudan looked at his sister nervously. The little girl shook her hand, "It's a particularly large piece of walnut."
"The door, left ajar, was pushed open and a woman came out. Her whole face looked flat, perhaps from eating too much Xinjiang bread; she had small eyes, thick lips, and a sunken nose, bearing not the slightest resemblance to the beauty of a Uighur woman.
