Fu Chenyuan quickly and efficiently handled the chicken and duck.
When the old hen is cooked in the pot, it smells delicious as soon as it boils.
They still used firewood, and those earthen stoves.
Old Yang was somewhat surprised by Fu Chenyuan's skill level; it wasn't that he couldn't cook, but rather that he was extremely good at cooking.
Jiang Wanning was tending the fire nearby, her face covered in graffiti without her even realizing it.
Seeing their natural way of getting along, and seeing that they were capable yet not arrogant at all, Mrs. Yang had already made up her mind.
"It smells so good!"
Yes, the aroma travels so far, you can hear dogs barking in the distance. I bet someone's dog is drooling with envy.
The old hen soup is ready, the boiled fish is ready, the stir-fried vegetables are ready, and the blood duck is ready—a table full of dishes.
The four of them couldn't finish the food, so they shared half with the people Mrs. Yang brought.
They sat at one table, and Mrs. Yang's group sat at another.
The food was delicious, and it was well past lunchtime. All the ingredients were prepared by ourselves, so no one had time to chat or drink alcohol. Everyone ate to their heart's content.
After dinner, Jiang Wanning was about to wash the dishes when Fu Chenyuan said, "No need, I'll wash them."
Mrs. Yang also stopped her: "Don't go to wash, let the men wash, let's chat?"
“Okay.” Jiang Wanning sat with Mrs. Yang in the front yard to enjoy the cool air.
It's already 4 PM, and I'll be off work in a little while.
It seems like no one got anything really done today, but we all felt satisfied, as if we'd been healed.
"As for me, Lao Yang and I actually started from scratch."
Mrs. Yang began to tell her love story.
Jiang Wanning listened attentively.
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