Chapter 1 Then you can come to my house. How come the porridge was cooked so undercooked and...?
As night deepened, the streets fell silent. Although the shops along the road were brightly lit, there were no customers left.
"Clang... Clang clang..."
"Clang..."
The young man, who was sitting next to the trash can, slowly looked up in the direction from which the sound came, and saw a small dark figure walking towards him.
The shadowy figure was backlit, making it impossible to tell if it was male or female, but it was clear that he was dragging a bulging bag. The bag bounced up and down on the concrete ground as he walked, but it didn't seem to weigh much.
The young man glanced at it, then buried his head in his knees again, showing no interest.
"Big brother, I need to go through that trash can, could you move aside?"
"Oh, it's just a little boy," the young man thought.
The young man didn't say anything, but got up and walked away.
"Thank you, big brother." After thanking him, the little boy put the large snakeskin bag on the ground and went over to rummage through the trash can.
"There's one in the bushes over there."
"ah?"
The little boy looked up from the trash can and in the direction the young man was pointing; a red aluminum can was half-hidden in the grass.
The little boy ran over, picked up the can, turned around, waved the can in his hand, and happily thanked the young man: "Thank you, big brother."
After putting the can into the burlap sack, the little boy ran off to continue rummaging through the trash cans.
Tonight, we collected a lot of recyclables, stuffing the burlap sack to the brim. But the last plastic bottle just wouldn't fit, and the little boy was stumped by it.
"You can stomp on it," the young man said casually.
"What?" The little boy didn't understand what the young man meant.
The young man said nothing more, walked up to the little boy, took the plastic bottle from his hand, unscrewed the cap, threw it on the ground, and kicked it. "Crack!" The bottle was flattened.
"That's it! It'll fit now." The young man picked up the flattened plastic bottle and casually stuck it into the bag, where it was easily stuffed.
"Wow!" the little boy exclaimed, as if he had discovered a new continent.
He took out the largest plastic bottle from the bag, placed it on the ground, and, imitating the young man, raised one foot high, mustered all his strength, and stomped down hard.
The bottle on the ground bounced away with a "whoosh," but nothing happened...
The little boy, still not satisfied, stomped on the bottle again. This time, the bottle dented slightly, but it quickly bounced back.
"This is so hard," the little boy said dejectedly.
The young man walked over and effortlessly stepped on the bottle, which obediently flattened itself.
The little boy finally realized the difference between himself and the young man: he was too weak. "Never mind, I'm not strong enough."
"Thank you, big brother." The little boy thanked him again and picked up the plastic bottle that the young man had stepped on.
The young man silently walked to the burlap sack, lifted the bottom of the sack, and with a whoosh, all the waste inside the sack poured out onto the ground. "I'll help you."
The young man slowly raised his foot and stomped on a bottle, flattening it one by one. Then, with a gentle kick of his toe, the flattened bottle rolled precisely to the little boy's feet.
The little boy looked at the young man with admiration: "Big brother, you're so amazing!"
This time, all the waste was put back into the burlap sack, but it only filled a small halfway, making it much easier for the little boy to drag.
The little boy patted the dust off his hands. "Big brother, thank you for today. I'm going home now; it's very late. Aren't you going home too?"
The young man walked back to the trash can and sat down, looking down as he said, "I... can't find my way home."
The little boy said, "If you can't find your way home, you can ask a policeman for help."
"Even the police can't find it."
"Why?" the little boy asked, puzzled. His grandmother had clearly said that the police officers were very capable and that he could go to them for help with any problems.
"Because... I have no home anymore."
"Huh?" The little boy blinked his big, dark eyes at the young man, then looked at the deflated snakeskin bag hanging at his feet: "Then you can come to my house."
...
Under the dim streetlights, a little boy skipped and hopped ahead, followed by a tall young man carrying a snakeskin bag that swayed back and forth in the air.
"Big brother, my name is Ao Daiya, which means 'sprout' or 'bud'. Everyone calls me Little Sprout. What's your name?"
"My name is An Fusheng."
"Can I call you brother?"
"Can."
"Brother, we're friends now."
Before An Fusheng could answer, Ao Daiya continued, "Because you helped me step on the bottle, I took you back to my house. This is called mutual help. Friends help each other."
"OK."
Ao Daiya led An Fusheng through the narrow alleys. Few of the streetlights in the alleys were working properly, but fortunately, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could still see the way.
After turning through several alleys, we finally stopped in front of an old house.
Ao Daiya skillfully took out the rope hanging around her neck, then felt for the key at the bottom of the rope, grabbed the key, and opened the door: "This is my home."
"Um."
Ao Daiya opened the door, then ran to turn on the light in the yard, pointed to the corner of the yard, and said, "Brother, you can put the bag there."
An Fusheng placed the snakeskin bag in the corner designated by Ao Daiya and began to examine the house in front of him.
A small, red-brick house with a strong sense of history, consisting of a living room and two bedrooms. The living room is in the middle, with a bedroom on each side. The kitchen and bathroom are separate on the left side of the house. It is quite spacious, but the surrounding buildings are all taller, making the small house look particularly dilapidated.
Ao Daiya reached out and tugged at An Fusheng's clothes, noticing they were wet. "Brother, why are your clothes wet? You'll get sick if you wear wet clothes. You need to take a shower and change into clean clothes."
An Fusheng was still in a daze even after Ao Daiya pushed him into the bathroom.
Why are his clothes wet?
He was picking mushrooms in the mountains when he accidentally tripped and fell, ending up in a completely unfamiliar place. A group of strangers surrounded him, asking if he was alright, saying he had fallen into the river and that's why his clothes were wet.
This was not a place An Fusheng was familiar with. He wanted to go home and asked the people around him for help, but no one knew where "Chenzhou" or "Fushan Village" was.
Later he discovered that the clothes he was wearing were not his own, the voice was not his own, and his hands were not his own, but he refused to think about it further.
Looking at the unfamiliar "self" in the mottled mirror, An Fusheng had to admit that he had transmigrated, transmigrated into the body of a stranger!
It feels like a dream, but it's true.
If this body isn't your own, then what about your own body? Is it dead?
He must be dead, that's how it's always portrayed on TV, An Fusheng thought in despair.
But what about Grandma? If I die, Grandma will be very sad. What will she do when she's sad? What will she do when she has no one to keep her company?
Also, where are this body's relatives? The original owner suddenly disappeared; his family must be very worried, right?
Should I go find them? But I'm not the original owner of this body, so what good would it do if I found them?
An Fusheng's head was throbbing.
Sister Chunyi is right. Many things become very complicated once they involve two families.
"Brother, you have to turn that faucet many times before water comes out," Ao Daiya kindly reminded him after not hearing water from the bathroom for a while. The faucet at home had been used for too long and wasn't very reliable. Sometimes it would take a long time to turn and no water would come out, and once it did, the flow was very strong, which was really inconvenient.
"I understand." An Fusheng's thoughts were interrupted.
Let's take it one step at a time. Maybe when we wake up tomorrow, we'll find it was all just a dream.
There was no shower in the bathroom, only a wall-mounted faucet that dispensed hot water. There was also a collapsible bath tub in the bathroom, presumably used for bathing.
An Fusheng didn't use a bath tub or a towel. He simply brought the water to a suitable temperature, cupped his hands, and gave himself a quick bath. The hot water warmed his icy body.
After taking a shower, An Fusheng realized he didn't have any clean clothes to change into. Just as he was about to put his half-wet clothes back on, there was a knock on the door.
"Brother, I found you some clothes."
An Fusheng threw down the wet clothes in his hand, peeked halfway out from the crack in the door, and took the clothes from him.
Huh? There's even a pair of underwear? An old one.
An Fusheng silently put the underwear aside. It wasn't that he disliked that the underwear wasn't new; it was just that underwear was really not suitable to wear someone else's worn underwear.
Sleeping without underwear at night should be...okay, right?
But these clothes... why are they so flashy? Are these... an old lady's clothes? And are the top and pants a matching set??
An Fusheng held the clothes printed with dense blue floral patterns in his hands and fell silent...
After a while, he finally moved. Well, wearing wet clothes was indeed not very comfortable.
After taking a shower, An Fusheng washed his clothes before coming out of the bathroom. With his elbows draped over his wet clothes, he walked out of the bathroom and immediately saw a clothesline in the yard.
He went over and hung the clothes on the clothes rack, but before he could even spread them out, he heard a "smack" from the kitchen.
"What's wrong?" An Fusheng ran into the kitchen.
Ao Daiya stood blankly on the small stool, with a puddle of white porridge splashed on the ground.
"The porridge was too hot, I couldn't hold it and it fell to the ground. I'm so clumsy," Ao Daiya said regretfully.
“It’s alright, just give me another bowl…” An Fusheng stopped mid-sentence.
There was indeed a little porridge left in the pot leaning precariously on the stove; it was a dark, murky mixture.
Is the porridge overcooked? It doesn't seem fully cooked yet. How can porridge be overcooked and burnt?
“This porridge… you shouldn’t eat it…” An Fusheng sincerely suggested.
"But this is Grandma's dinner. Grandma says that when you're sick, you have to eat a lot so you can get better faster."
“Then…do it again?” An Fusheng asked.
"Alright." Ao Daiya sighed. There was indeed too little porridge in the pot; it wasn't enough to eat.
Seeing that Ao Daiya was about to clean up the pot and start cooking porridge again, An Fusheng quickly said, "How about I help you? Cooking porridge takes a long time, and it's getting late. Do you have any other ingredients at home?"
Ao Daiya didn't consider whether An Fusheng could cook. In his eyes, adults were omnipotent, and cooking was a simple thing. Even a seven-year-old like him could do it, so his older brother would definitely be able to.
Ao Daiya jumped down from the small stool, ran to open the refrigerator door, and showed the food to An Fusheng.
There were plenty of ingredients in the refrigerator. An Fusheng found a bag of hand-pulled noodles, as well as eggs and tomatoes. He could make tomato and egg noodles, which would save time and effort.
The pot was still hot. Anfu was afraid that Ao Daiya would get burned, so he refused Ao Daiya's help to wash the pot and quickly washed it himself, then put it on the stove.
But how do I turn on this fire?
An Fusheng always cooked with firewood at home. Although he had seen this kind of gas stove in town, he had never used it.
"Could you help me turn on the fire?" An Fusheng asked.
"Can."
Ao Daiya climbed onto a small stool, grabbed the gas stove switch with both hands, and used all her strength to twist her entire upper body to turn on the flame. After turning it on, she thoughtfully adjusted the flame size.
An Fusheng added water to the pot and put the lid on.
That ignition switch looks kind of magical; I really want to try it.
He looked it over once and roughly knew how to use it.
So An Fusheng grabbed the switch with one hand and twisted it hard, and "pop," the fire went out.
An Fusheng, who originally wanted to turn the fire up a bit more: "..."
An Fusheng glanced at Ao Daiya beside him. It should have only taken a little effort, so why did he look like he was struggling so much? An Fusheng then casually turned the knob and turned on the fire.
So easy!
Turn the heat to high, and the water in the pot will boil quickly.
An Fusheng used a knife to make a cross on the bottom of the tomato, put the tomato in a bowl, ladled boiling water from the pot into the bowl, until the tomato was completely submerged in the boiling water.
The tomatoes needed to be soaked for a while. An Fusheng first put the noodles into the pot to cook, then cracked two eggs into a bowl and stirred them with chopsticks. Then he took the tomatoes out of the hot water. The skin of the tomatoes had already peeled off where they were cut. An Fusheng gently peeled off the peeling skin, and the entire tomato skin was easily peeled off.
After peeling, cut the tomatoes into thin, even pieces, arrange them neatly, and then make a few horizontal and vertical cuts to turn the tomato pieces into evenly sized cubes.
Watching a large tomato transform in An Fusheng's hands as if by magic, Ao Daiya couldn't help but exclaim, "Wow! Brother is so amazing!"
An Fusheng readily accepted the children's compliments.
The noodles in the pot wouldn't be cooked for a while, so An Fusheng used the time to wash some greens and scallions. He threw the washed greens into the pot to cook with the noodles, chopped the scallions, and then took the noodles and greens out separately after they were cooked. He put the greens in a bowl and rinsed the noodles in the prepared cold water to prevent them from clumping together and to make them smoother and more chewy.
Wash the pot for cooking noodles, dry it on a rack, and then heat it with a suitable amount of oil.
Then, with a "sizzle," the prepared egg mixture was poured into the pan. As soon as the egg mixture was cooked by the hot oil, its aroma was immediately released.
Ao Daiya, standing nearby, was already drooling. "It smells so good!"
The eggs set quickly in the hot pan. An Fusheng gently stirred them with a spatula a couple of times, and before the eggs were fully set, he poured the diced tomatoes into the pan and stir-fried them together. This way, the eggs wouldn't break into too many pieces, and they would stick to the tomatoes.
The sweet aroma of eggs and tomatoes mingles and evaporates during stir-frying, creating a rich fragrance that instantly fills the entire kitchen.
Once the stir-fry was almost done, add broth to the tomato and egg mixture and let it simmer for a while. An Fusheng then scooped the noodles from the cold water into a bowl and divided them into three portions.
After dividing the ingredients, the tomato and egg soup in the pot boiled. An Fusheng ladled the soup into noodle bowls, then added vegetables, soy sauce, and salt to each bowl, and finally sprinkled chopped green onions on top.
While rummaging through the refrigerator for ingredients, An Fusheng also found half a bowl of lard. He then instructed Ao Daiya to put a small dollop of lard into each serving of noodles.
A bowl of delicious tomato and egg noodles is ready.
"The noodles my brother made smell so good!" Ao Daiya exclaimed.
"What are you doing? It smells so good!"
An Fusheng turned his head, "Ah...Grandma..."
A note from the author:
----------------------
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com