CHAPTER 45: THE WARMTH OF HOME

"Oh?" Yuanfeng raised an eyebrow, amused. "But you said to make it flat."

"Flat, not squished!" she huffed, glaring adorably.

He chuckled, his usually cold, work-worn expression softening. "Understood, boss."

As they worked, the kitchen filled with the sweet scent of lotus paste and sugar syrup. Flour dust danced in the air, catching the golden light from the ceiling.

At some point, Yuanfeng found himself laughing more than he had in months.

"Daddy, look!" Huaijin exclaimed, holding up a slightly uneven mooncake mold. "It has a bunny on top!"

"Oh? That’s cute," he said. "You chose it because of the Jade Rabbit?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Yes! The rabbit makes mooncakes on the moon, right? So it’ll bless ours!"

Yuanfeng smiled faintly. "Then let’s make sure they’re good enough for the Moon Goddess herself."

"En!" She nodded, determination lighting her face.

By the time the first batch went into the oven, the two were covered in flour from head to toe.

Huaijin’s cheeks had white streaks, and Yuanfeng’s shirt was a disaster, but neither cared. They leaned on the counter, peering through the oven glass, waiting for the dough to turn golden brown.

"It smells nice," Huaijin said softly.

"It does," Yuanfeng agreed. "Better than anything I could buy."

She giggled. "Daddy, you sound like an old grandpa."

"Grandpa?" he repeated in mock offense. "You wound me."

She laughed again, her tiny hand reaching out to pat his arm. "Don’t worry, Daddy. You’re still handsome!"

He blinked, then burst into laughter. "You little flatterer."

But inside, a warmth bloomed quietly, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Since her mother’s passing, his life had revolved around work and responsibility.

Happiness had been a luxury. But in this moment, with his daughter’s giggles echoing in the kitchen, everything felt... peaceful.

When the oven dinged, Huaijin practically jumped.

"They’re done! They’re done!"

Carefully, Yuanfeng pulled the tray out, setting it on the counter. The little mooncakes gleamed golden brown, their surfaces embossed with perfect bunnies and flowers.

"Wow..." Huaijin breathed out in awe. "They’re so pretty!"

"Let’s see how they taste," Yuanfeng said, slicing one open. The fragrant lotus paste oozed slightly, its texture smooth and sweet.

Huaijin took a bite, eyes widening immediately. "Delicious!"

"Really?" Yuanfeng asked, raising an eyebrow. "You sure it’s not because you made it?"

She giggled. "It’s both!"

"Then try mine," he said, offering her one of the pieces he made. It was a little crooked, but the filling was rich.

She bit it, chewed seriously, and gave a solemn nod. "Hmm. Needs improvement."

"Oh?" he asked dryly. "What’s wrong with it, Chef?"

"You put too much syrup," she said, wrinkling her nose. "But it’s still good! I’ll eat it!"

And she did, happily munching as though it were the best thing in the world.

Yuanfeng watched her, half-amused, half-moved. "You’re going to spoil yourself before the fair."

"No," she said between bites. "I have to make sure they’re safe for others to eat!"

"Is that your excuse for eating the whole batch?"

"Quality control, Daddy. Quality control."

They spent the rest of the evening experimenting with different fillings, red bean, mung bean, egg yolk, and even one weird batch of peanut paste that Huaijin swore "tasted nostalgic."

Each time something came out wrong, she would wrinkle her nose, scribble something on a notepad (her "secret recipe book"), and announce a new improvement.

By the time the clock struck ten, they were both exhausted but grinning.

On the counter sat a mountain of mooncakes, some perfectly shaped, others tragically lopsided, but each carrying laughter, mistakes, and love.

"Tomorrow, we’ll try again," Huaijin said, yawning but determined. "We’ll make the best ones for the fair."

Yuanfeng lifted her into his arms, wiping a bit of flour from her cheek. "Alright, little chef. Tomorrow again."

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"Today was fun."

He smiled softly. "Yeah... it was."

The next few days became a blur of flour, sugar, and laughter.

Every evening after work, Yuanfeng found himself back in the kitchen, kneading dough with his tiny assistant. They even started making small pastries and sweet glutinous rice balls, experimenting with shapes and colors.

Sometimes, Huaijin would hum as she worked, a soft, old-fashioned tune that made him wonder where she’d learned it. She’d move with quiet confidence, her motions strangely precise for a child. When he asked her about it, she’d just grin and say, "I saw it in my dream again."

Dream or not, her skill amazed him.

One night, she even crafted a tiny rabbit-shaped mooncake, pressing the mold perfectly. "Look, Daddy! It’s a bunny! It’ll bring luck!"

He looked at it, and at her shining eyes, and couldn’t help thinking that it already did.

Finally, the day of the festival arrived.

The school courtyard had been transformed into a colorful wonderland, paper lanterns everywhere, music playing softly, tables covered with food, crafts, and smiling families.

Huaijin stood proudly behind her table with Yuanfeng by her side. Their mooncakes were neatly arranged in a little wooden basket, wrapped with red ribbons.

"Wow, look! So pretty!"

"They even have rabbit designs!"

Parents and kids stopped by, admiring the treats. Some bought a few, others came back for seconds.

Huaijin bowed politely each time, offering small paper plates. "Thank you! Please try the bunny mooncake, it’s my favorite!"

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and soon her stall was one of the most popular.

Meanwhile, Yuanfeng watched from behind, arms crossed, unable to hide his small, proud smile.

Every time someone complimented the taste, Huaijin’s face would light up like a lantern.

And every time she laughed, his heart softened a little more.

When the fair ended that afternoon, the basket was empty.

Huaijin sat on a bench, munching the last leftover mooncake with a satisfied grin. "We sold everything, Daddy!"

"We did," he said, handing her a bottle of water. "You did amazing."

She beamed. "Then... does that mean I win?"

"You definitely do," he said gently. "You’re the best little chef in the world."