When Wang Daquan was little, he wasn't close to his grandma. Grandma was tall and stout, neither particularly …
When Wang Daquan was little, he wasn't close to his grandma.
Grandma was tall and stout, neither particularly virtuous nor beautiful. Her gruff voice and fiery temper made the young Wang Daquan somewhat afraid of her.
Grandma knew too—silent children were the most uneasy. She would dig out slightly wrinkled, shrunken buns and silently stuff them into the child's hand.
Those buns were from the big pot, stored hanging in a basket, long since dried to crumbs.
Wang Daquan cautiously asked Grandma if there were any fresh buns to eat.
Grandma furrowed her brows and snorted heavily through her nose. Wang Daquan was too scared to speak, just lowered his head and gnawed on the bun, only daring to relax when he heard Grandma push the door open and leave.
Outside the window, the wind grew stronger; inside, it gradually darkened. Wang Daquan lay on the rug and fell sound asleep.
Not long after, a subtle fragrance drifted into his nose. It was the scent of wheat and fat meat. Rubbing sleepy eyes, Wang Daquan's mouth watered at the sight of the bun before him.
"Eat. Fresh out of the steamer." Grandma's rough voice sounded. She picked up a bun, broke it open, blew on it, and handed it to Wang Daquan.
"What a greedy pup," Grandma muttered, watching Wang Daquan wolf it down. "Wasted another piece of my fat meat."
"Slow down! No one's stealing it from you! There's plenty more!"
Scolding came at the right moment, but Wang Daquan clearly saw quiet amusement in Grandma's eyes.