When Chen Yuan returned to the small courtyard,
dusk had fallen, and the sky was dark.
As soon as Chen Yuan entered, he saw a small head peeking out.
"Brother, Grandpa, you're back!"
"Come over and eat quickly."
First, a milky voice floated over.
Then a boy walked out of the house carrying a food box.
The boy's thick eyebrows were slightly raised, and his pudgy face was flushed with a pink glow.
His clothes were covered with dust, clearly just back from the fields.
"Brother, I made these pastries, do you want to try some?"
The boy looked at Chen Yuan with hopeful eyes, displaying his white teeth and a silly smile.
"They taste good, Zhuangzhuang, you could almost open a restaurant," Chen Yuan tasted them and exaggerated.
Hearing this, the boy's large, shiny eyes instantly narrowed into slits with joy.
This eleven-year-old boy named Zhuangzhuang, formally Chen Guang,
was the only family in the neighborhood who shared the surname with Chen Yuan.
