Then the family of three started to eat lunch, because the custom here is to eat rice for lunch and steamed buns in the morning and evening.

Therefore, you are not allowed to cook soup at noon on New Year's Eve, because the older generation said, "If you don't cook soup on New Year's Eve, your granary will be full of grain in the coming year."

Zhou's mother was happy this year and also drank a small glass of wine with Zhou's father.

"Come, pour me a glass of wine, so I can try the wine my daughter bought."

It has been more than 20 years since Zhou's father saw his wife celebrate the New Year so relaxedly, without any frown or sigh.

He happily filled a glass for his wife and said, "Come on, let's drink to this year and every year to come so relaxed and happy."

Zhou's father was happy and Zhou's mother was relaxed, but they both drank too much. Zhou Xiang could only ask them to go and rest while he cleaned the table.

Then I knead the dough and chop the dumpling filling. My father likes to eat meat dumplings, but my mother likes to eat vegetarian dumplings.

I chopped some cabbage leaves into the meat filling, added soy sauce water when stirring the meat filling, then mixed it with cabbage leaves and an egg to make the dumpling filling soft.

For the vegetarian filling, use Chinese cabbage, black fungus, vermicelli, chop the filling, and then spread the egg skin, chop it up and add it inside.

The eggs in the two fillings are all from the space. There are two or three hundred eggs in the space now. Well, it is enough for two chickens to lay eggs.

Zhou Xiang was busy cutting dough, rolling out dough sheets, and kneading dumplings by himself until four o'clock.

Zhou's father and mother got up and saw that their daughter was almost done. They felt embarrassed and thought they had lost their composure today.

Zhou's mother found a small porcelain basin, scooped glutinous rice flour, boiled the dough, and rolled the Yuanxiao.

Zhou's father boiled water, put the Yuanxiao in when the water boiled, and when the Yuanxiao floated up, he put the dumplings in, cooking the vegetarian dumplings first and then the meat dumplings.

The remaining dumplings were enough for tomorrow morning. Zhou wanted to make more, so he made more than a hundred of each kind.

After eating dumplings and Yuanxiao, wash and scrub what needs to be washed, but don’t wash or scrub on tomorrow, the first day of the new year.

Then he started frying melon seeds and peanuts. In his previous life, the melon seeds and peanuts on his grandmother’s melon seed stall were all fried by Zhou Xiang.

Seeing his daughter staring at the sunflowers in a daze, Zhou's father said, "Think about those watermelon seeds you harvested this summer. Take them out and fry them!"

"Huh? Oh, I don't remember where I put it. Let me look for it."

Zhou's mother reminded her, "Put it under the cupboard, behind the noodle barrel."

Zhou wanted to open the bottom door of the cupboard and pull out the flour bucket. He saw a small cloth bag inside. He took it out and opened it. It was indeed black watermelon seeds.

It looks good, not moldy or scratched by rats.

I picked out a dozen particularly plump ones, smuggled them into the space, used a winnowing basket to dustpan them, removed the white membrane outside the seeds, and fried these handfuls of watermelon seeds on the stove.

Dissolve some salt water and set aside. Fry the melon seeds until fragrant. I tried it and it was just right. Pour salt water on them and stir-fry quickly. A layer of white salt frost will appear. Take it out of the pot and scoop it out.

Father Zhou tasted it and said, "Hmm, my daughter, your fried melon seeds are pretty good, just right. Why don't you fry a few pots of sunflower seeds?"

"Okay!" Zhou Xiang nodded, cleaned the pot, and started frying sunflowers.

Sunflowers are still delicious in their original flavor. By the time Zhou wanted to fry all the sunflowers, his father's pot of peanuts was finished.

Looking at the slightly black peanuts, Zhou Xiang sighed. Dad actually couldn't do many things well, but Mom was even worse.

Maybe it’s because they are busy preparing three meals a day, so they only fry melon seeds and peanuts during the Chinese New Year. My dad usually buys melon seeds and peanuts from outside, but the peanuts for drinking are fried very well by my dad.

"Dad, please move aside. I'll fry the peanuts."

Zhou's father made room for the stove, and Zhou Xiang brushed the pot a few times with a brush, dug out the remaining sand from building the kang from the woodshed, and poured half of the sand into the pot.

He asked Zhou's mother to light a high fire. When the sand got hot, he touched it with his hand and it was hot. He asked Zhou's mother to light a low fire.

Pour the peanuts in and start stir-frying. Looking at her daughter's skillful movements, Zhou's mother knew that this was the result of training from her own mother in her previous life. Poor daughter, a child of twelve or thirteen years old, was ordered by her mother to fry melon seeds and peanuts for her. She had no time to study and was not allowed to turn on the lights to do her homework at night.

Zhou's father even asked his daughter, "Aren't you wasting fire? When will it be cooked?"

"It's not wasteful. It just takes time to preheat the sand. The peanuts cook very quickly in the sand! After you scoop out the peanuts with a colander, you can immediately add the second batch. You'll see if you watch me fry them."

After that, I tried a peanut, which cooked on its own. I scooped it out with a slotted spoon and let it cool, then it became crispy.

Soon, pot after pot of peanuts came out. As soon as the peanuts in the last pot were mixed with the sand, Zhou's mother was asked to light the fire.

Zhou's father tasted the peanuts fried by his daughter. They were delicious and crispy, and the skin looked raw.

After frying the melon seeds and peanuts, everything is cleaned up, the pot is cleaned out, and the sand is poured out.

It's time to set off fireworks. Zhou Xiang took out several types of fireworks he had bought and used a burning branch to light the fuse.

Zhou Xiang was having a great time setting off fireworks, which made his mother feel distressed. Zhou Xiang looked at the fireworks soaring into the sky. In his previous life, he envied others for having fireworks. When he was in fifth grade, his mother gritted her teeth and bought him three small fireworks.

For the rest of my life, all I remember was the crackling sound of the fireworks, the small star-shaped sparks that burst out, and my mother's smiling face in the fireworks when I clapped my hands and danced, asking her to appreciate it.

After setting off fireworks, the family of three played poker.

Zhou wanted to stare at her father to see if he would bring up the idea of ​​playing for money. The words were about to come out of her mouth, but when she looked at her daughter's bright eyes, she quickly swallowed them. Her daughter was so good at playing chess and had perfect scores on the exams. If she counted cards, he would have no money to lose, and it would not be a good omen to lose money during the Chinese New Year.

"Let's play the game of sticking on mustaches." The words in his mouth changed.

Zhou was disappointed and wanted to teach his father a lesson. In fact, he went out to play every day and sometimes played for money.

Father Zhou raised his wrist and looked at his watch. It was already half past eleven. There was not a single note on his daughter's face. His wife and his own faces were covered with notes and there was no room for more. His daughter was not spared either and put some on her ears, and she helped to put them on.

Eleven forty-five, "Stop playing, it's time to set off firecrackers and welcome the gods."

Father Zhou put down the cards in his hand and refused to play cards with his little girl anymore.

The paper strips on my face had dried up and couldn't be torn off, so I had to soak them in water before I could tear them off completely.

After setting off the firecrackers, we could finally go to bed. In fact, Zhou Xiangying had already dozed off.

He brought a bucket of water and a spatula into the space, planted the dozen or so watermelon seeds he had smuggled in in the small yard, and watered them.

I picked the cucumbers and tomatoes, cut the leeks, harvested the rapeseed, and threw the vegetable roots to the chickens to eat. Well, I don’t plant rapeseed anymore because I always have to re-sow it, which is too tedious. I’d rather plant something that can be picked many times.