"It's not the sister-in-law that's tasty, it's the dumplings," Lin Qiao couldn't help but joke casually.
"Sister-in-law is tasty..." Song Tingfan realized his words were off, quickly corrected himself, "The dumplings wrapped by sister-in-law are tasty." After he said that, his face turned beet red.
Song Qin and Song Rong were amused, their old faces full of wrinkles.
After the meal, Lin Qiao heated some water for the two elders to wash up and rest. Watching them enter the room, she returned to the kitchen and said to Song Tingfan, who was tending the fire, "Little Uncle, go to sleep now."
"Sister-in-law, aren't you going to sleep?" asked the young man by the firelight, his dark pupils reflecting the lovely face of the woman.
Lin Qiao took out the chili peppers and garlic she bought from next door in the afternoon. The garlic was already peeled and she placed them on the chopping board to chop, "I'll sleep later after marinating the fish, so we can smoke them tomorrow."
