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

He Wanning smiled and replied "okay," then took out a lighter from her bag and picked up a few dry leaves, crushing them to use as tinder.

She skillfully arranged the thin branches into a cone shape, leaving a gap in the middle, then stuffed tinder inside and lit it with a "click".

The orange-red flames shot up with a "whoosh," greedily licking the withered leaves and quickly igniting the twigs.

Tongtong squatted by the fire, her big eyes fixed on the leaping flames, her little face full of "I want to play too".

She stretched out her chubby little hand, eagerly wanting to touch the warm flame—

"Smack."

He Wanning gently slapped her hand away, her expression serious:

"Children shouldn't play with fire, you know? If they do, they'll wet the bed at night."

The words "bedwetting" were like a curse, and Tongtong immediately withdrew her hand.

She even instinctively covered her little bottom with her two small hands, and a hint of fear flashed in her big, dark, grape-like eyes.

The memory of being spanked by my mom for wetting the bed is still fresh in my mind! It stung so badly!

She took several steps back, moving far away from the fire, but her big eyes still stared intently at the flames, her gaze a mixture of longing and fear.

The flames danced and reflected in her clear pupils, as if infusing those eyes with a magical radiance.

As He Wanning looked at him, she suddenly felt that the little guy's eyes really resembled Sun Wukong's "Fiery Eyes." Under the firelight, Tongtong's eyes shone brightly.

"Tongtong," she teased her deliberately, "why don't you want to give it a try? Auntie will teach you, it's very simple."

Tongtong jumped up, but then seemed to remember something, and slumped back down, shaking her head like a rattle-drum.

"No, no...wetting the bed will get me a spanking..."

He Wanning suppressed a laugh and continued to "tempt" her: "It's fine as long as there are adults watching."

Children only wet the bed when they're playing alone in secret. Your aunt is taking you to play; it's teaching you survival skills, not playing with fire.

This twisted logic actually convinced Tongtong.

She hesitated for a few seconds, then finally shuffled over in small steps.

He took a thin twig from He Wanning and carefully placed one end of it gently into the fire.

Watching the branches being consumed by flames, slowly turning black and smoking.

Finally, a tiny flame ignited, and Tongtong's eyes grew brighter and brighter, her little mouth opening in surprise into an "O" shape.

"It's on fire! Auntie, look! It's on fire!"

He Wanning smiled and nodded: "Tongtong is great."

When the firewood had burned down to almost nothing and turned into glowing red charcoal, He Wanning used a twig to pry open the middle of the embers and make a hole.

She placed the five sweet potatoes inside one by one, and then carefully covered them with the charcoal fire.

As soon as the charcoal was buried, Tongtong couldn't wait to ask:

"Auntie, when can we eat? I'm starving!"

He Wanning: "...You know how to be quick-tempered."

She made an estimate:

"About... half an hour. Smaller ones might be a little faster."

Tongtong nodded vigorously, then squatted down beside the charcoal fire, resting her chin on her hands, staring intently at the spot where the sweet potatoes were buried, as if she could ripen them with her gaze.

"Tongtong, come sit down, it's hot over there."

He Wanning sat on a flat rock next to her and greeted her.

Tongtong shook her head firmly without turning her head:

"No, Tongtong needs to watch them. What if they run away?"

He Wanning chuckled: "Sweet potatoes don't have legs."

"What if other small animals steal it?" Tongtong's logic was sound. "Squirrels, birds... they love to eat fragrant things too!"

He Wanning had no choice but to give her some advice:

"Then you're not allowed to come near, understand? It's very hot."

"I know~" Tongtong replied in a childish voice, but her bottom seemed rooted to the spot and didn't move at all.

Time passed second by second.

The forest was quiet, with only the occasional crackling of the charcoal fire and the faint chirping of birds in the distance.

Twenty minutes later, He Wanning stood up. She picked up a long branch, preparing to check on the sweet potatoes.

Tongtong's eyes lit up instantly, like two little light bulbs: "Auntie! Is it ripe? Is it ripe?"

"The smaller one should be ready by now." He Wanning gently brushed aside the surface of the charcoal with a twig, and a wave of heat mixed with the aroma of caramel and sweetness wafted out. "The largest one will probably have to wait a little longer."

Tongtong rubbed her little hands excitedly as she watched her aunt use a twig to pick out the sweet potatoes.

The charred outer skin cracked open, revealing the golden, tempting flesh inside, steaming hot.

The little guy, fearless as a newborn calf, stretched out his chubby little hand to grab it—

"Wait!" He Wanning exclaimed in surprise, quickly stopping her. "It'll burn your hands! It'll hurt!"

She dared not let Tongtong get hurt, otherwise she would face more than just a scolding when she got home.

She glared sternly at Tongtong: "Don't touch it, do you hear me?"

Tongtong pouted, looking aggrieved.

"But Tongtong wants to eat..."

That pitiful little thing softened He Wanning's heart. She sighed and wrapped the smallest sweet potato in a tissue.

Carefully peel back the charred outer skin to reveal the golden, soft, steaming flesh inside, then offer it to Tongtong's lips:

"Come on, blow on it before you eat, take small bites."

Tongtong immediately stopped crying and started laughing. She took the sweet potato with both hands and, imitating He Wanning, puffed out her cheeks and blew on it.

Then, I carefully took a small bite.

He Wanning took one for herself, peeled it, and took a big bite—

As a result, he was scalded and gasped for breath, constantly fanning himself with his hands.

Tongtong took a small bite, so it wasn't very hot at all.

But when she saw her aunt making "sha sha" sounds, she also started making "sha sha" sounds, her little face scrunched up as if she had been burned too.

He Wanning looked at this little drama queen who was imitating her, feeling both annoyed and amused.

She ignored her and continued eating—this time she learned her lesson and blew on it to cool it down before eating.

Tongtong watched as her aunt quickly finished one sweet potato and picked up a second one. Looking at the sweet potato she had only taken a few bites of, she suddenly felt a sense of crisis.

She quickly shoved the remaining sweet potatoes behind her back, using her small body to block them, looking like a possessive little girl saying, "This is mine."

He Wanning almost burst out laughing when she saw her clever little devil. She deliberately sped up the speed at which she ate the sweet potato.

Seeing this, Tongtong didn't care about the heat and quickly peeled the sweet potato herself.

But her little hands were clumsy, and she was in a hurry to eat, so she peeled the skin unevenly, leaving her hands covered in charred bits of the outer skin.

She subconsciously wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

With that wipe, she successfully transformed herself into a little tabby cat.

On her fair and tender face, there were black marks left and right, like a kitten that had stolen ink.

When He Wanning looked up and saw her face, she was first stunned, then burst into unrestrained laughter.

"Hahahaha! Tongtong! Your face! Hahahaha!"

She laughed so hard she almost fell over, and tears were welling up in her eyes.

Tongtong blinked blankly, "Auntie, what are you laughing at?"

He Wanning took out her phone, turned on the front-facing camera, and held it up to her face:

"Look at yourself, doesn't it look like a little kitten that just crawled out of the stove?"

Tongtong looked at herself on the screen, her face covered in black marks, only her eyes still shining.

First, she stared wide-eyed in shock, then quickly wiped her face with her little hands—

........