For some reason, this year, poetry felt particularly fast, as if there were not a few days and nights, and it was almost mid-fall. Half a month ago, the kids started asking me when I was making mooncakes, being a mother, if they wanted to. So it's already been done a few times this year. The broad moon cake is the favorite of poetry in all kinds of mid-Autumn cakes, of which omelet is the number one. The process of making wide-range mooncakes seems not to be complicated, but it is also full of small problems, and poetry is the most perfect person -- the sort of little compulsion that you call it -- so it is the percentages that repeat it. This year's moon cake, I've changed the previous square, and I've never broken it。