"I say, Village Chief Zhao, what are you doing? Handing out rations?" Still unable to be serious, Wen Quanxin joked.
Old Zhao didn't get angry. A smile appeared on his dark face. "On New Year's Eve, it's all about reunion. There's one thing you have to eat. Wei Yang and the others have already kneaded the dough and divided it up. Come on! Everyone follow me to go make dumplings!"
"Uh… well, Uncle Zhao, can I apply to only eat and not make them?"
"No problem. As long as you cover the camp's meals for next week, you can skip making dumplings."
Seeing the crafty smile hanging on Old Zhao's face, Wen Quanxin lifted his hand and smacked his own head. "Uncle Zhao! It's such a waste you're not some landlord tycoon."
"Is that so? Then why don't you behave and listen. Alright, everyone get over there, don't keep the ladies waiting!"
Eating dumplings for the New Year is an old tradition passed down from our ancestors, and making dumplings is an essential activity for a family reunion.
