Everyone in the house sleeps upstairs except for Nanny Zhang.
Early the next morning, Jubaoge saw me stumbling out of the master bedroom with my hair a mess. He let out a grumpy snort and shuffled downstairs in his little slippers.
After I finished washing up and went downstairs, Nanny Zhang served congee and pork floss, asking me in a conciliatory tone, "Xiaohe, we’ve run out of pickles at home. Could you ask your father to make some more?"
Chapter 112