When Su Qingluan heard the adjectives used by her little sister, she couldn't help but laugh: Although children sometimes tend to speak in childish terms, they can also sometimes say amazing things that adults find incredible.

Yang also laughed and said, "Oh, our third girl is quite good at talking."

Su Qingluan smiled and said, "Maybe Xueyan can become a female poet in the future?"

Yang laughed quickly and said, "Oh, a female poet! You're really getting carried away by praising her like that!" Turning around, she smiled at the smug Su Xueyan, her face raised high, and said angrily, "Don't take your sister's words of partiality to you seriously! There are so many talented men in the world, why is it a little girl like you who gets the chance? Just eat yours!"

The little girl pouted, stopped talking, and ate silently. Su Qingluan sighed in her heart, but she also understood that some things could not be blamed on her mother - the environment she lived in and her life "experience" told Yang that women could be hardworking and strong, but dreaming of becoming a "female poet" was unrealistic.

Being a poet is something that only educated people can do, and girls were not allowed to go to school. Even if they went to a girls' school, they could only learn a few words, read account books, manage accounts, and supervise their children to do their homework.

To put it bluntly, we still have to return to "supporting our husband and raising our children".

Therefore, Yang felt that the term "female poet" was just nonsense.

Su Qingluan wasn't necessarily suggesting that her sister become a poetess; she was just saying it casually. But she still felt a sense of sadness about Yang's attitude—not for Yang or Su Xueyan, but for the entire era.

Su Qingluan sighed and said nothing more. She picked up a piece of fish and said: Food is still the best way to soothe people’s hearts!

Su Qingluan placed the piece of snow-white black fish meat in the soy sauce dipping dish and gently rolled it over, then evenly spread the soy sauce on both sides of the fish meat and put it into her mouth.

Then, she couldn't help but squint her eyes slightly in enjoyment: Sure enough, the hot pot made from the rice soup is less spicy and spicy than the ordinary spicy or pepper pot, but it is more tender, smooth and fragrant!

The rich aroma of rice completely wrapped up the sweetness of the fish and slid into the throat in an instant - just like what my sister said just now, the ingredients seemed to melt!

Soon, everyone discovered the deliciousness of this rice soup hotpot and started eating it faster.

In order to ensure that the meat is smooth, fresh and delicious enough, Su Qingluan asked Yang to prepare the ingredients in larger pieces this time. This way, the spices used for marinating will not cover up the taste of the ingredients themselves.

What's more, if ingredients like fish are cut too thinly, they will easily fall apart and become inedible.

What's more, there are river fish and other raw meats. Su Qingluan dare not take the ingredients before the pot is boiled, otherwise she will get parasitic diseases.

There's delicious food right in front of you, but you have to wait. Therefore, the time before the pot boils again seems particularly difficult.

But it was not so easy to just stare at each other in the cold wind. The rumbling of their stomachs made them feel so awkward that they could only start chatting - otherwise, one by one, the whole family would be like hungry wolves reincarnated, with green eyes shining with cunning light, staring at the white water inside to see when the joyful bubbles would begin to appear.

Yang sighed, "Third girl has so many ideas. Why didn't I realize before that the meat cooked in this rice soup is so tender and soft!"

Su Guangfu retorted, "In the past, our family would never grind good rice into rice milk just to make hot pot base."

Yang nodded in agreement. "That's true." In the past, the Su family would cook even unhusked rice, skin and flesh included, not to mention rice. The reason was simple: while the husks were difficult to chew, they weren't poisonous and could satisfy hunger.

When you have nothing in your stomach, "eating" is everything. You don't even have any extra money to buy salt and other seasonings. You just want to exchange everything for food. How can you have the leisure to study hot pot?

"But why?" Su Xueyan tilted her head, "I cook everything, but rice soup tastes especially good!"

Su Qingluan stroked her sister's furry little head. "Because the rice soup is thick, it's more accurate to say it's 'simmered' rather than cooked. This way, the meat won't be overcooked, and it will naturally taste better."

What's more, the thickness of the rice soup can also lock in the moisture and flavor of the meat slices, making them naturally more delicious.

While they were talking, the pot was already boiling slightly. Su Xuanhe was impatient and hurried to pick up the half-plate of river shrimp. Su Qingluan hit him on the arm with a chopstick: "Don't eat until the pot boils! Otherwise, you'll have another stomachache!"

"Isn't it boiling already?" Su Xuanhe pointed at the two bubbles that had just surfaced. "Look, all the bubbles have surfaced. Here, the third one!"

"You counted really carefully then." Su Qingluan glared at her brother with a forced smile, "Count another hundred!"

According to Su Xuanhe's counting speed, which is comparable to reciting a line, he will probably be able to continue eating after counting a hundred numbers.

However, she forgot that Su Xuanhe was, to put it bluntly, just a seven-year-old child, and a seven-year-old child from an ancient rural area who had not experienced the cruel baptism of internal circulation.

It was okay for him to count numbers within 20 or 30, but it became a bit more difficult for him to count numbers beyond that. After counting 40 or 50, he started to stumble.

My dear, there is more to this chapter. Please click on the next page to continue reading. It will be even more exciting later!