Her eyes curved into crescent moons, and she leaned against him sleepily. "Hehe… next time, we'll make more."
He brushed her hair softly. "Next time, huh?"
"Mm-hmm… with lots of flavors."
"Alright, sweetheart," he said, smiling as the sunset painted the sky orange and pink. "Next time."
That night, back home, Yuanfeng carried her to bed. Her small hands were still faintly dusted with flour. She murmured something in her sleep, half a recipe, half a dream, and he couldn't help but chuckle quietly.
He turned off the light, then paused, glancing toward the kitchen. The faint smell of baked mooncakes still lingered in the air, mingling with the laughter that had filled the house for days.
It had been years since this home felt so alive.
And as the moon hung high outside, glowing softly, Yuanfeng thought to himself—
Maybe this was what the Mid-Autumn Festival was truly about. Not lanterns or mooncakes, not tradition or competition, but togetherness.
