Early the next morning, Yue Qingqing woke up to familiar scents.
The farther a person goes, the more they miss the flavors of home.
The aroma of food, the scent of the detergent her mother often used, even the smell of old wooden furniture.
Like the local dialect, these smells may not be particularly unique, but they always make one feel relaxed.
Couldn't help but smile.
"Mom, I'm hungry."
Yue Qingqing stretched lazily and then went to the kitchen to hug Zhang Ying from behind, acting coquettishly.
Zhang Ying brushed her finger across Qingqing's nose.
"Almost ready, you little glutton, go wash your hands."
Yue Jiandong wandered over in his pajamas, looking a bit sour and humming.
"Such a big girl now, and you still act spoiled when you come back. Aren't you ashamed?"
Yue Qingqing didn't feel embarrassed at all, "No matter how old I get, I'm still my mom's daughter."
"Your dad feels you haven't been acting spoiled with him."
