Li Xiuli quickly set down the farming tools in her hands and hurried toward the kitchen.
Once inside, she saw on the stove a dish of smashed cucumbers, a dish of Tomato Scrambled Eggs, and a stir-fried loofah.
The colors were appealing, suggesting that the taste wouldn't be bad.
"Tangtang, you cooked, didn't you? Are you hurt anywhere?" Li Xiuli asked, her face filled with concern.
She went over and grabbed Lin Tang's hand, inspecting it several times, turning it over and over.
"I'm not hurt; I'm fine, not a scratch, Mother, you don't need to worry," Lin Tang said, feeling both warmed and helpless at her mother's overprotectiveness.
Li Xiuli, looking serious, replied sternly, "How could I not worry? You've never done the cooking by yourself. What if you cut or burned yourself?"
Lin Tang: How could she explain to her mother, whose heart was full of maternal love, that she had already learned to cook several dishes?