The palm opened.
Clear plastic packaging.
Gleaming with a rich orange hue inside.
Little Milk Bun's eyes lit up, and his little body couldn't help but inch closer.
The dried apricots, wrapped in the packaging, were carefully placed into Little Milk Bun's palm.
Fearing that Little Milk Bun would eat too much and feel discomfort in his stomach.
All those sour fruit preserves had been put away at home, with only a fixed daily allowance given.
No one knew where he had hidden some on his person, taking advantage of the moment when no one was around to please in silence.
Little Milk Bun looked at the dried apricots in his palm, then looked up at Tang Yan.
The youth's features had long lost their initial sharpness, his eyelashes partly lowered, his side profile delicate, the contours of his cheeks appearing gentle, his garment's hem resting on the couch, catching a touch of pale golden light.
Little Milk Bun still kept a straight little face.
