"I have a cold, I have a cold, I have a cold..." Qiu Yan weighed his feet and turned over a piece of ginger in the kitchen basket. He hummed as he washed the ginger, put it on the chopping board, picked up a kitchen knife and patted it. A few times, "Cold, cold, cold..."
"Why are you so happy when I have a cold?" Felix Qiu went into the kitchen, filled a small pot with some water, threw a piece of brown sugar in, and put it on the stove to cook.
When he wanted to take the kitchen knife from Qiu Yan's hand, Qiu Yan said anxiously: "I'll do it, I'll do it, I'll do it, I'll do it."
"Okay, okay, you come, you come," Felix Qiu stood aside, "When you're done, it's time to go to bed."
"Why didn't Big Huzi come over to play today?" Qiu Yan threw the crushed ginger into the pot and stirred it back and forth with a spoon.
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