The freshly steamed meat buns, with their rich aroma of meat mixed with wheat, wafted into the little boy's nose.
Shi Wangyue suddenly felt a bit of a twinge in his nose, "You should hurry back, it's about to rain. Don't get wet, you'll get sick if you do. Stop following us, you'll get lost, and you don't remember the way home, it would be dangerous."
After speaking, he started pushing the chubby young man back.
The chubby young man, unlike his usual easygoing manner, struggled not to leave, stubbornly passing the bun to his son's mouth:
"Baby, you're hungry, eat the bun."
"I'm not hungry, I don't want it." The little boy turned his head away.
"The bun is delicious, baby, eat it."
The overcast sky finally released its long-held raindrops.
The young man persisted in hoping his son would eat the bun at hand: "Eat the bun, baby."
It was raining, and the people in the car were waiting.
