Jiang Jinghuai walked back, squinting slightly as he looked down. After hesitating several times, he finally opened his mouth to Tian Sangsang: "Don't you think he's eating a bit too much?"
At the dining table earlier, he had observed closely. A bowl of rice, a bowl of soup, and then a variety of other dishes combined—this piece of meat, that piece of tenderloin, this chicken wing, that pork trotter, a bite of cabbage, a bite of eggplant—it was truly a lot.
A slightly sleepy Meng Shuyan, upon hearing his father's voice, immediately opened his dreamy almond-shaped eyes and asked in complete confusion, "A lot? Did I really eat a lot?"
The little guy had always eaten like this at home. He didn't know how much other kids ate, but this was what he ate. Now that his dad questioned his portion size, even he started to doubt himself. He felt his worldview had been rattled by some external force.
