Chapter 37: Deliver this bowl of meat to the Ji family (2)
Because the weather was too cold, Zhong Qiao wrinkled his red nose, carried the bamboo basket, wrapped in his coat, and rolled to Mrs. Qian's door like a round ball of wool. He raised his hand and knocked tentatively.
"Who is it?" A strong female voice came from inside.
Zhong Qiao curled her fingers slightly, clenching the handle of the bamboo basket. After hesitating for a moment, she spoke crisply and explained her purpose: "Mrs. Qian, I'm Zhong Qiao. My mother asked me to bring something over."
With a creaky sound, the door was quickly opened.
Mrs. Qian was very fat. She poked her head out of the door with a rosy face like Maitreya Buddha. When she saw Zhong Qiao, she was stunned for a moment, but soon she reached out and pulled Zhong Qiao into the hot room.
"Girl, why don't you know how to pity yourself? Your mother is really something. Why did she ask you to come and send him off? Where is that kid Siqi?"
She has always been a talkative person. When she saw a cute little girl carrying a small bamboo basket in the snow, her face red from the cold, and her innocent big almond eyes staring at her with watery eyes, her heart melted and she couldn't stop talking.
"You should have stayed home in this weather. You're freezing cold! What a sin!"
Mrs. Qian was the one who cooked the big pot in the canteen. She was very strong and Zhong Qiao was pulled into the house without any resistance.
"Come." Mrs. Qian pushed her to the ground closest to the stove and stuffed a hot roasted sweet potato into her hand. "Warm up by the fire."
Zhong Qiao couldn't refuse, so he could only take it. He planned to sit for a while and took out the plate of lard residue and lard from under the floral cloth and put it on the table.
Seeing the lard and lard residue, Mrs. Qian exclaimed, "Oh, what a sin! Your mother really doesn't know how to live!"
"Lard and lard residue are something I only eat a few times a year. Your mother is so generous in giving away such good things. Are we going to live a miserable life in the future?"
Mrs. Qian's expression was filled with sorrow: "I taught your mother how to live, but this is how she lives her life!"
"Teach my mother how to live?" Zhong Qiao wondered.
She had never heard Mother Zhong mention it.
Mrs. Qian used pliers to fiddle with the weak firewood and said with a smile, "You definitely don't know this. Your mother is a face-conscious person."
"When your mother first came to this compound, she smelled delicious and had big, curly hair. She looked just like the little lion that the Ji family kept. When she walked, her shoes squeaked, and she looked so majestic."
"You look quite smart, but once you get into the kitchen, you can't light a fire, you can't cook, you can't do this, you can't do that. You feed your father and your brother half-cooked food every day, and they get diarrhea every time."
Zhong Qiao felt quite complicated.
Seeing that Zhong's mother was very skilled in cooking these days, she thought she had learned it herself during her spare time in Hong Kong, but she didn't expect there was such a relationship.
"Your mother's hands have been injured by oil splashes several times. I've never seen anyone like your mother. She cooks without even heating the oil, and then she throws the vegetables into the water and throws them back into the pot. If the oil doesn't splash on her, who else can it splash on?"
Mrs. Qian sighed.
"I couldn't bear it any longer, so I taught your mom how to cook, buy groceries, and do all sorts of housework. I wanted to teach her how to run a household. Otherwise, your dad and your brother would have starved to death long ago."
Zhong Qiao said sincerely, "Thank goodness you took care of my mother. Thank you so much."
Mrs. Qian uttered a "Hurry!" and waved her hand: "We are all neighbors, this is nothing."
She stuffed the lard crumbs and lard into Zhong Qiao's arms.
"So, you must not forget what I taught your mother. I don't want these. I don't want them! Take them back and eat them."
Zhong Qiao was stunned when he touched the warm plate.
I once encountered this situation when visiting relatives at the Xu family during the Chinese New Year. I gave the younger generations small red envelopes, and the elders refused each other, and once they started to refuse, it was like a fight.
Zhong Qiao likes to be straightforward and is not good at dealing with this kind of situation.
"Mrs. Qian." Zhong Qiao was embarrassed and pushed the two things back. "My mother asked me to give them to you. You should take them."
Mrs. Qian shook her head frantically, her face showing pain. "No, no, I don't want it. How can this be justified? If you're afraid of what your mother will say about you, I'll go talk to her later."
This back and forth refusal made Zhong Qiao feel as if he was back to the time when he was given the red envelope.
Painful memories.
"Then you can take the lard." Zhong Qiao chose to take a step back. "I'll take the lard back. The lard will not be crispy when I take it back later. I'll leave it to you, old man, so I can go back and report to my mother."
Mrs. Qian was startled. She saw what Zhong Qiao meant, and her eyes gradually flashed with complex emotions, as if she saw something through Zhong Qiao's face.
After a long while, she gritted her teeth and reluctantly took the plate of lard residue, feeling both happy and ashamed.
"Okay, but your mother can't waste good things like this in the future. You have three children in your family."
"If there weren't three, I only had one," Zhong Qiao explained.
Mrs. Qian smiled: "Aren't you and Siqi still here?"
Zhong Qiao was stunned.
Mrs. Qian took advantage of her stunned moment and quickly stuffed a piece of lard into her mouth.
Smiling, "You try it too."
The aroma of fresh lard filled his mouth. Lard scraps were a rare snack in 1976, and Zhong Qiao hadn't eaten them for a long time.
When you bite it, it is crispy and has a unique flavor.
Mrs. Qian smiled, turned around, opened the wooden door of the cupboard, took out two cooked eggs from inside, and put them in Zhong Qiao's bamboo basket.
"Take this back and share it with Siqi."
She didn't forget to specifically instruct: "Don't tell your mom that I gave it to you. Your mom is always fussy."
Zhong Qiao reacted quickly, jumped up like lightning, and grabbed the bamboo basket and refused to let go.
"No, no, I came here to give you something, how can I take something back?"
Mrs. Qian's Maitreya Buddha-like smile changed, her brows furrowed, and she forcefully, even easily, snatched the bamboo basket from Zhong Qiao's hand, lifted a corner of the floral cloth, and threw two eggs in.
"You look like your mother, but your personality is so much like Zhiwei's. You're so honest and naive."
"Take it if it's given to you. Be open and honest when you go out."
Zhong Qiao: ...She seems to remember that "大方方" isn't used this way. ?
In order to prevent Mrs. Qian from stuffing more things into the bamboo basket, Zhong Qiao pulled with her for a while, and left before he even had time to sit down.
After weighing the heavy bamboo basket, Zhong Qiao continued walking along the cobblestone path according to what his mother had said before.
Fortunately, the wall of the compound was demolished and all the rooms were connected. After walking for a while, I really saw the magnificent gate.
The door is a little different from other people's.
The other houses all had wooden doors and glass windows covered with old newspapers, and the areas in front of the doors were deserted.
The Ji family has a red-painted gate, and the grass in front of the gate seems to have been carefully tended by someone, with a hint of green hidden in the snow.
Zhong Qiao walked forward and was about to knock on the door.
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