Shocking! A three-year-old brings his aloof mother to their door.

He Wanqing's face flushed red instantly, both ashamed and annoyed: "I didn't! I just can't tie it properly, I can't see it and I don't know how to tie it..."

Mo Ye didn't give her another chance to explain.

He cupped the back of her head with one hand, ran his fingers through her hair, and leaned down to kiss her.

He Wanqing hummed in response, but the last syllable was swallowed by him.

Her hands loosened from the apron straps, climbed onto his shoulders, and her fingers gripped his collar, slowly closing in in response to him.

The kitchen was extremely quiet, with only the sound of two people breathing together, growing heavier and heavier.

The spatula hung on the wall, swaying slightly in the breeze outside the window, making a soft metallic clanging sound.

The two were kissing passionately when a childish voice came from the stairwell, sounding a little confused and anxious: "Daddy, Mommy~ Where are you~"

The two suddenly separated.

Mo Ye's breathing was still a little unsteady, as if something was stuck in his throat. He cleared his throat before speaking, his voice still a little hoarse: "Tongtong, Mom and Dad are in the kitchen."

Tongtong came running over with a "da da da" sound, her short legs moving incredibly fast, and she rushed into the kitchen like a little cannonball.

She tilted her head, looking intently at Mo Ye, her face filled with worry.

"Dad, do you have a cold? Your voice sounds a little off."

Mo Ye squatted down to be at her eye level, and smiled as he gently patted her head.

"Tongtong is so observant; she could even tell that her dad's voice was slightly off."

Tongtong laughed heartily after being praised, puffing out her little chest with a smug look on her face.

"Tongtong hears her dad's voice every day! She'll definitely recognize it!"

Mo Ye gently brushed her nose: "Daddy is feeling fine, Tongtong, don't worry."

Tongtong nodded vigorously, and her little pigtails swayed slightly.

She turned her head and saw He Wanqing wearing an apron, then looked at Mo Ye's apron and blinked: "Are Mom and Dad going to cook?"

He Wanqing squatted down and straightened her crooked little bun: "Yes, Tongtong, go watch cartoons. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

Tongtong walked up to Moye, her little hands clutching the hem of Moye's apron. She looked up, her big eyes blinking, and said, "Tongtong wants to help too. Tongtong doesn't want to watch cartoons."

He Wanqing was squatting on the ground tidying up her vegetable basket when she heard this, so she looked up and glanced at Tongtong.

The little girl's face was full of earnestness, as if she wanted to do something, and her eyelashes fluttered like two small fans.

He Wanqing reached out and patted her little head, her voice soft: "Okay, Tongtong will help too. Tongtong is such a good girl."

When Tongtong was praised, she was so excited that her face lit up with joy.

She puffed out her little chest, raised her chin slightly, and looked so smug, while her invisible little tail wagged rapidly behind her.

Mom praised her...

He Wanqing's heart softened when she saw her daughter's bright, sparkling eyes.

Children need to be praised a lot. If you praise them, they will start to take it seriously and eventually it will become real.

She stood up, took a small basin from the sink, filled it halfway with water, and then took a few lettuce leaves from the vegetable basket and put them into the basin.

Tongtong looked at the few lush green lettuce leaves, her little face filled with excitement, even the tuft of hair on her head was shaking, and she thought to herself,

"Is Tongtong going to advance? Last time it was peeling garlic, and this time it's washing vegetables. Will she be able to stir-fry vegetables next time?"

He Wanqing didn't know what was going on in her little head, but seeing how excited she was, she didn't try to dampen her spirits.

No one is born liking to cook.

Cooking serves three purposes: survival, livelihood, and the well-being of those I love and care about.

Seeing someone you care about eating the food you cooked and hearing them say "It's delicious" brings you immense satisfaction.

But how many people take everything the person who cooks every day for granted?

For example, when our mom or dad cooks every day, we might inadvertently say things like, "The food is too salty," "It doesn't taste good," or "It's just cooking once, what's so difficult about it?"

Habit makes everything seem natural. How can someone who has never cooked know how difficult it is to cook for decades?

It's not a big deal to cook again; the important thing is to keep at it.

If Tongtong wants to do it, she won't discourage her enthusiasm.

Even if she doesn't want to do it anymore, she has the ability to hire a chef for her for the rest of her life.

He Wanqing squatted down, pushed the basin in front of Tongtong, and said gently, "Come on, Tongtong, watch how Mommy washes it."

Tongtong immediately shuffled over to He Wanqing like a little crab, her little arms pressed tightly against her mother's, her neck stretched out, her eyes fixed on the vegetables in the bowl.

He Wanqing looked down at the soft little dumpling beside her and smiled.

She picked up a head of lettuce and slowly peeled off the leaves one by one, meticulously breaking down each step:

"Tongtong, look, after you break off the leaf, this part is black; that's dirt. You need to wash it clean. Rub it like this with your hands, okay?"

She gently rubbed the broken-off leaves in the water, her fingertips tracing the veins, the water washing away the mud from the crevices of the leaf stalks.

Then she picked up another leaf and rinsed both sides in the basin. "The leaves need to be washed too, like this."

Tongtong watched intently, her little mouth slightly open, her eyes following her mother's hand as it moved around.

After He Wanqing finished speaking, she immediately nodded and announced in a childish voice, "Tongtong knows~ Tongtong is going to do it!"

Seeing her eager expression, He Wanqing gave her a heads-up:

"Okay, Tongtong, try it yourself. But no playing in the water, okay? Tongtong is a good girl, right?"

Tongtong's chubby little hand had just gone into the water when she heard this, and she paused, her whole body stiffening for a moment.

She gently dipped her fingers in the water, then quickly grabbed a head of lettuce and began carefully breaking off the leaves.

She lowered her head, pursed her lips, and wore a serious expression, her voice muffled: "Tongtong didn't want to play in the water."

He Wanqing looked at her smug, clueless expression and didn't expose her. She simply hummed softly, "Mom believes Tongtong didn't want to play in the water."

Upon hearing this, Tongtong washed even more enthusiastically.

She rubbed each of the broken vegetable leaves in the water, scrubbing both sides, even picking at the gaps in the stems with her chubby little fingers, washing them more carefully than He Wanqing.

Water occasionally splashed out and landed on her bunny T-shirt, but she didn't care, her head down, completely absorbed.

As she was washing, Tongtong suddenly stopped.

Her eyes widened as she stared at the back of the leaf in her hand. A lush green cabbage worm was crawling on the vein, its plump body wriggling slightly, segment by segment, like a little green train.

Tongtong looked like she had struck gold, her little face instantly lighting up with excitement.

She carefully scooped the leaf out of the water, held it in her chubby little hands, then turned to He Wanqing and called out excitedly, "Mommy! Tongtong has something to show you!"