The Butcher's Little Husband - Chapter 90

In some places, people roll Yuanxiao, but in Willow Tree Slope, they wrap them.

They dug out the glutinous rice flour from the bucket and put it into a wooden basin, then added water to knead it into dough. The prepared fillings were placed in small bowls—sesame, red dates, and red bean paste. 

Tian Xiaoman decided to make some of each kind, then mix them randomly into bowls to eat by luck.

Outside, under Father Li’s guidance, Le-ge’er and Liu Xilin completed their first lantern. It was a simple round lantern with no special features, but both children clearly loved it.

Next to Father Li, several more lantern frames were already completed—some shaped like butterflies, others like lotus flowers. They would definitely look beautiful once hung.

Just then, Li Amu returned. A nearby household had asked him to assist with a newborn. 

As soon as he walked into the yard and saw the pile of lanterns, he exclaimed, “Wow, Wenxuan is fast! Already bought everything?” He picked one up and inspected it. “Not bad. Why didn’t you make them before?”

Father Li didn’t even look up, still busy tying the frames. “You didn’t buy them…”

“How would I know you liked making lanterns? And besides, your legs work. Why did you not go buy things yourself?” Li Amu snorted, clearly blaming Father Li in return.

“…” Father Li said nothing, but in his heart, he thought: That takes money.

Feeling victorious, Li Amu cheerfully turned to the kitchen—he needed to grind more glutinous rice flour to make dumplings for the Lantern Festival tomorrow.

But when he arrived, he found Tian Xiaoman already sitting there making dumplings. 

What a relief to have someone helping. When it was just the three of them at home, they would rather starve than cook—let alone make something like this.

The finished dumplings were round, white, and looked adorable. Li Amu placed them in a basket and set them outside to freeze until cooking time the next evening.

After wrapping the dumplings, Tian Xiaoman felt a little hungry, but since no one said anything—especially not even Le-ge’er—he was too embarrassed to ask for some.

That night, after washing up, Tian Xiaoman lay in bed, still thinking about those snowy white dumplings.

“Li Wenxuan, I’m hungry again…”

Li Wenxuan was used to Xiaoman getting hungry every night. “Who told you not to eat more at dinner? Noodles? I’ll cook noodles for you.”

Tian Xiaoman tugged on him. “I want dumplings.”

“Dumplings are hard to digest. How about noodles?” Li Wenxuan tried to negotiate.

“Then I don’t want anything!” Tian Xiaoman flopped down, sulking under the quilt.

“Okay, okay, I’ll cook the Yuanxiao! Come out now, it’s so stuffy under there!” Li Wenxuan had no choice but to agree.

Seeing him walk out, Tian Xiaoman grinned smugly. Hehe, I get to eat Yuanxiao!

Soon, Li Wenxuan returned with a large bowl. The plump white Yuanxiao floated up and down in the hot soup. 

Tian Xiaoman scooped one up with a spoon and took a bite. “So sweet! So good!” He offered the next one to Li Wenxuan’s mouth.

Li Wenxuan helplessly opened his mouth and ate it. He chewed and swallowed, but it was still a bit too sweet for him.

Tian Xiaoman laughed unkindly at his expression, feeling that Wenxuan was just too unlucky. He happily popped Yuanxiao into his mouth one after another, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

Watching him like this, Li Wenxuan felt very content.

After eating more than a dozen, only two were left at the bottom of the bowl. Tian Xiaoman was already full and didn’t want any more, but since Li Wenxuan clearly didn’t like sweet things, throwing them away would be wasteful.

He hesitated, then gritted his teeth and stuffed them in. After handing the empty bowl to Li Wenxuan, he lay down, planning to slowly digest it.

Glutinous rice is hard to digest, and Tian Xiaoman had eaten sweet dumplings too fast. Soon, he felt a burning sensation rise from his stomach to his throat. He covered his mouth and quickly climbed out of bed.

Finding the toilet, he couldn’t hold it back any longer and vomited several times, bringing up all the dumplings he had just eaten. 

Li Wenxuan had just returned from the kitchen when he heard the sound and rushed in.

Xiaoman, in just his undershirt and barefoot, was squatting miserably next to the toilet, pale-faced with red-rimmed eyes.

“Husband… ugh…” Tian Xiaoman tried to speak sweetly but ended up retching again.

Li Wenxuan hurried over, wrapped a coat around him, and gently rubbed his back. 

After the vomiting stopped, he brought his shoes and helped him put them on. Luckily, there was a brazier in the house—if he caught a cold, it would be terrible.

That night’s vomiting seemed to have flipped a switch. Tian Xiaoman officially entered the stage of full-blown morning sickness.