Xiaofeng's life was very regular.
She would wake up every day at three-thirty in the morning, finish wrapping all the buns by five-thirty, steam the buns by six o'clock, and before six-thirty, she would sort them into insulated baskets wrapped in quilts, then head downstairs with her son.
Downstairs, there was a simple tricycle, and each kind of bun filling was placed separately in a basket on the back of the bike, along with Xuanxuan, slowly heading towards the direction of the school...
Right opposite the school was a small hospital, and the people coming and going from the hospital were Xiaofeng's target customers.
But today was a little different.
As soon as she got downstairs, she saw the old lady on the first floor peering curiously into her basket and then hesitantly asked, "Xiaofeng, I always smell a scent of green onions, did you make pork with green onion buns?"
Xiaofeng was taken aback.
