She remembered hearing someone say that the standard for kneading dough was "three shines": the dough shines, the basin shines, the hands shine. Lian Shouxin had completely met this standard, and his kneading movements were very professional: he would knead a large piece of dough a few times on the workbench, then throw and slap it down, the dough seemingly still elastic.
"Kneading dough, you see, requires quite a bit of strength," Lian Shouxin said with a smile, "But it's not just about using brute force, or you'll kill the dough. You have to use a skilled touch, so that the noodles you roll out are strong and delicious."
"Dad, you really know a lot," Lian Manman said, looking at Lian Shouxin with an admiring gaze, "Did you learn this from Mom?"
Lian Shouxin chuckled, neither confirming nor denying.
"You're underestimating your dad," Lady Zhang said, "When it comes to kneading, rolling noodles, making buns, making dumplings, your mom still has to learn from your dad."
