The aroma of stir-fried dishes seeped from the gaps in the smoke duct. A group of children clutched handfuls of sunflower seeds, squatting at the side with wide eyes watching them. A thick layer of seeds was piled at their feet. Passing adults drove the children away, waved a distant greeting towards the group, and then slipped into the room next door, right as a round of mahjong games ended, the sound of tiles being shuffled and voices reaching a new crescendo.
"Grandpa, what are you guys doing?"
A child with a face as red as a dog's butt asked boldly, not intimidated in the slightest, his eyes filled with curiosity about Su Huan.
The camp leader Song Zhiyue chuckled and scolded, "You nose into everything. Get your dad to fetch a pit of vegetables, we're stewing vermicelli tonight."
[Note: In Northeast dialect, 'zi' is often replaced with 'de' in words, like stickde, goodde, childde... etc.]
"Stewing vermicelli?! Sure thing!"
