After dinner, Chen Laohan carried himself to the newly built kitchen, checked the condition inside the pot, and then added two more sticks of firewood to the roaring stove.
After doing all that, Chen Laohan took a breath, inhaled some of the white steam into his lungs, and a blush immediately appeared on his dark red old face.
Hoo!
Chen Laohan exhaled and finally felt at ease.
Chen Dalang had been watching from the side. Seeing his father's approach, he cautiously asked, "Father, how's it going?"
Chen Laohan nodded and laughed lightly, "It's done!"
"That's great!"
Chen Dalang was overjoyed and grabbed a clay bowl from beside, licking his lips as he prepared to open the covered pot lid.
Chen Laohan smacked his son lightly, stopping him, "Fool, wait for the fire to die down before opening it. If you open it too soon, the aroma will escape."
Chen Dalang was stunned for a moment and quickly pulled his hand back.
