The waiter announced, "The fragmented dumplings are ready!"
No one else reacted much, except for Ji Maomao and Wu Fan, who were both taken aback.
How many years had it been since they last heard the name of this dish?
Ji Maomao leaned forward to look at the large bowl of fragmented dumplings and the accompanying side dishes around it, instinctively turning his head to the old gentleman sitting beside him.
Wu Fan was also staring blankly at the fragmented dumplings.
The swirling steam blurred their vision, and before them appeared the scene of two people, one big and one small, squeezed together in that somewhat narrow kitchen from years ago.
Ji Maomao's parents were busy with work and didn't have time to take care of their child.
Back then, many academically strong students would board at their teachers' homes for convenience in tutoring and supervision.
From Ji Maomao's cohort, Wu Fan only took him under his wing.
