Lu Jiang climbed out of bed in anger, put on his clothes, opened the door, and went to make breakfast.
Little Fatty adamantly refused to leave his mother's embrace. Once his gaze fell upon Lu Jiang's stern face, he burst into loud, obnoxious crying, wailing and sobbing piteously as tears ran down his face in rivers and snot bubbles erupting from his nose.
The children who were always early to bed and early to rise were disturbed, accusingly saying, "Uncle (brother-in-law), how could you make Xibao cry?"
Yes! Little Fatty hiccupped in agreement.
"Yes, yes, yes, he is my ancestor! My little ancestor!" Lu Jiang replied grumpily; and just as gruffly, he instructed his two nephews to help him with the chores in the kitchen. He planned to cook a porridge of coarse rice and dried sweet potato, steam a loaf made of a mixed dough of corn and wheat flour on the steamer, and stir-fry a few pickled vegetable lumps with red chili peppers.
