What Did You Call My Mother?

"Mother, can you make me a bowl of longevity noodles?" Feng Yuanxi looked at her with hopeful eyes.

When he saw children from other families celebrating their birthdays, they always had longevity noodles handmade by their mothers. Every time his birthday came around, he wished his mother were there so he could also enjoy the taste of her homemade longevity noodles.

Gu Qingluan understood Yuanxi's thoughts, and her heart ached.

"Of course, I can."

Feng Yuanxi pursed his lips and smiled, saying, "Thank you, Mother."

"You don't need to thank me, my child." Gu Qingluan gently touched his little face, then washed her hands and started to gather the ingredients.

She Kneaded the dough, rolled the noodles, lit the fire, cooked the noodles...

Yuanxi sat on a long stool, hands supporting his cheeks, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on the busy figure under the lamplight, feeling a serene and joyful tranquility in his heart.