Return to New York

Nothing happened that night. Early the next morning, just as the eastern horizon began to pale, Lin Hai and Gwen woke up in their respective rooms.

The tempting aroma of food had already filled the air. Clearly, Lin Hai's parents were in the kitchen preparing breakfast for them.

When they reached the dining room, they found several typical Huaxia breakfast dishes laid out on the table: fragrant, thick millet porridge, a plate of refreshing pickles, several peeled boiled eggs, and a small steamer basket of piping-hot meat buns.

Since Gwen had mostly eaten the Western or Chinese-Western fusion breakfasts Lin Hai made in endless variations when they were at their little home in Los Angeles, these traditional Huaxia breakfasts felt especially familiar to her as well.

But when she picked up her chopsticks and tasted them, she immediately sensed a clear difference. The breakfasts Lin Hai's parents made tasted distinctly different from the ones Lin Hai made.

It was not a matter of which was better or worse, but a difference born from different life experiences and the emotions poured into the food.

But to Gwen, they were both equally delicious! She ate with great relish and generously voiced her praise. "Uncle, Auntie, these buns are so good! The porridge smells amazing too!"

At her words, Lin Hai's parents smiled even more brightly than the sunshine outside.

After breakfast, once they had helped clear away the dishes, Lin Hai told his parents about their plans for the day. "Dad, Mom, Gwen and I are planning to go out today and buy some things for her family."

Naturally, Lin Hai's parents had no objections. His mother eagerly added, "Right, right, you should prepare properly. Look around first, and buy the good stuff!"

As if she had suddenly remembered something, she patted