Song Chengguang slept deeply that night, but even in sleep, he maintained his protective stance over his little brother and sister. As dawn approached, he was awoken by the cries of Little Moon and Little Baby, who were hungry.
"Don't cry, little brother and sister, brother will make you some milk," Song Chengguang said, rubbing his eyes with his small, chubby hands. He hurriedly slid down from the wooden bed and, wearing oversized slippers that were too big for him, pattered off to the kitchen.
It was still early, and Mrs. Song hadn't yet gotten out of bed. She was tired from staying up all night due to Wang Qinghua's childbirth and thus got up later than usual.
Song Chengguang entered the kitchen, his eyes catching sight of the powdered milk that Xu Xiuxiu often used for the boy and girl twins. The powdered milk was kept in a bamboo basket, hanging from a beam—a common practice in the countryside, meant to save space and keep the contents safe from cats and rats.
