Chapter 44

"Harry, what's wrong with you?" In the great hall of Hogwarts College, Ron casually put his hand on his friend's shoulder, holding a greasy fried chicken leg in his other hand.

"It's okay. I probably didn't sleep well last night." Harry shook his head, his eyes still a little dazed.

The next morning after meeting the Destiny Bar, Harry stood at the door of Principal Dumbledore's house with his luggage. Although the old principal was very surprised by his appearance, he kindly took in this reckless student and patiently listened to everything he said about the Destiny Bar, no matter how incredible it was.

Harry stayed in Godrick Hollow for almost the entire month of August. He and Principal Dumbledore had the most enjoyable and wonderful summer vacation ever. The punishment from the Ministry of Magic that he had feared did not come. The old man comforted the Minister of Magic who seemed overly enthusiastic and cleared up the sequelae of his aunt's flattery for him.

Returning to Hogwarts, the happy and beautiful days should have continued, but...

Harry took out the small red-green light, which emitted a yellow light that was not strong but made him uneasy. He was busy packing his luggage yesterday and did not notice when it started flashing yellow. And this alert mode has continued until now. Harry did not sleep well all night, worrying about potential dangers coming from nowhere.

But why?

This is Hogwarts, the safest place in his mind.

Harry was puzzled. Could it be that the notorious wanted criminal Sirius Black had really sneaked into Hogwarts?

He did hear Ron talk about what happened on the Hogwarts Express yesterday, where the Ministry of Magic actually sent out Dementors to search for Black. He followed the headmaster directly through the fireplace to the school and did not meet the Dementors. But just listening to Ron's description was terrifying enough.

A monster that can suck away people's happy memories sounds much scarier than Blake.

But no matter what, there is danger in Hogwarts. Harry, who believes in fate and Fang Shao more than Hogwarts, thinks so.

This matter should be told to the principal.

Harry picked up a sandwich, ate two quick bites, and then found an excuse to leave.

"Harry~" Ron was very confused. His sleepy pet mouse, Scabbers, also poked its head out of his chest pocket and looked at Harry's back in confusion.

A few minutes later, Harry hurriedly spoke the password and opened the door of the headmaster's office.

"Colonel Dumbledore..." Harry had just finished shouting when his throat felt like it was blocked by a huge stone.

"The famous Mr. Potter, is this your manners? Shouting in front of the teacher." Opposite the white-bearded principal, a middle-aged man in a black robe said coldly in a venomous snake-like voice.

"Professor Snape." Harry instinctively took a half step back.

"Severus." The old headmaster patted the Potions Professor on the shoulder, then said gently to the boy, "What's wrong, Harry?"

"Uh..." Harry looked at Professor Snape, not knowing whether he should speak.

"Huh, it seems that young Mr. Potter is very dissatisfied with his poor Potions Professor." The professor said sarcastically, "Albus, there are still a lot of potion materials waiting for me to deal with in the cellar. If there is nothing else, I will leave."

When Professor Snape's black robe disappeared at the door, Harry's expression was a little dazed.

"Harry?" Principal Dumbledore looked a little surprised.

Harry stared at the traffic light in his hand, which was now flashing green.

"We're so lucky today. All the lights are green." Fang Shao and Dave rode the shared bicycle side by side. The cold wind blew on their faces, as if the spring breeze from the willows was brushing their cheeks.

The Spring Festival has been over for a while, and the streets of Yizhou have returned to their usual bustle. People who went home to celebrate the New Year or stayed at home to spend the winter have appeared from nowhere and filled every corner of Yizhou again.

On the back of the two people's bicycles were tied a heavy bamboo basket filled with dry grains that still carried the scent of sunlight. A guest who had never met quietly placed two baskets of newly harvested rice in the public welfare corner. He or she had left a request for seeds on the suggestion book of Yuanba a few months ago, and now the reward came.

Fang Shao was very happy to receive such a kind gesture, but he also had a headache. Because these were all unhusked millets. Where in modern cities can you find a place to husk millets?

Even though Fang Shao's internet search was useless, he asked a circle of friends, and his friends asked their friends, and finally it was Gao Yang's insurance friend who helped him contact a small grain and oil workshop in the suburbs. This is how Fang Shao and Dave made this trip.

Following the navigation on their cell phone, the two people turned from the main street into the alley, and from the bustling city to the deserted city.

"Fang Shao?"

On the sidewalk, a young man waved to him hesitantly.

Fang Shao knew that this was the person who helped contact the store, so he quickly stopped the car. "It must be Brother Liu."

They had met half a year ago, when Gao Yang brought a few of his childhood friends to Yuan Bar to support him, and this guy was one of them. Fang Shao also heard him tell many interesting childhood stories in the countryside.

"You're welcome. Just call me Liu Hao." Seeing this, the other party also took a few quick steps towards him. Perhaps because he had been polished by society for more than half a year, Liu Hao spoke and acted with a bit of the enthusiasm of a social person. He was wrapped in a thick down jacket, and saw that Fang Shao and Dave were only wearing a thin coat, and his expression was a little surprised.

When Liu Hao saw the heavy baskets behind their bicycles, he couldn't help but say, "Why don't you take a taxi? There are only two baskets of rice, and they can fit in the trunk."

Fang Shao smiled, "It's okay, it's not far, just treat it as a workout."

Liu Hao smacked his lips. "Not far? It would take at least one or two hours to get here from the city center. Amazing!"

He walked to the bamboo basket, picked up a few grains of rice, rubbed them with his hands, and smelled them. "It's new rice. Your friend is too honest. He gave me rice in the shell. Where can I find a rice mill in the city now?"

Fang Shao smiled and said nothing.

Liu Hao took them to a dark grain and oil store. It was probably the off-season, so the owner didn't even turn on the lights. But the inside was very clean, the half-worn machinery was wiped clean, and the goods piled in the corner were neatly arranged.

This shop is a common husband-and-wife shop. The boss and his wife are both in their fifties, but they are cheerful and strong. They enthusiastically helped Fang Shao and Dave unload the rice and moved it to the rice mill. The machine is not big, only about one meter. The rice inlet on the upper half is like a large funnel, with the main body of the machine similar to a drum in the middle and the rice outlet at the bottom.

The boss and his wife worked together to pour a basket of rice into the rice inlet, then placed the empty bamboo basket under the rice outlet and started the machine.

As Fang Shao and Dave looked on in curiosity, the rice mill started to work busily, and soon spit out the white rice.

This is extremely efficient!

Seeing their interest, the boss proudly introduced his own machines to them. The most used machine here is the oil press, which is also the most frequented business by nearby residents. Especially the elderly, they generally think that the oil squeezed out of his shop is more fragrant and purer than the vegetable oil bought in the supermarket. There is also a crusher that can flatten or crush grains, which is very convenient for cooking porridge or brewing wine.

"I used to have noodle machines and shelling machines here... but they are no longer usable now. Supermarkets have everything, so fewer people come here, and only the oil pressing business is okay. So now I only maintain the oil pressing machine, and I use the other machines as long as they can be used, and I won't buy new ones if they break down." The boss laughed.

Fang Shao and his companion followed the boss on a tour and returned to the place where they had started. The machine had stopped, two bamboo baskets were filled with rice, and another woven bag was filled with rice bran. The boss's wife and Liu Hao were working together to move the bamboo baskets to the door.

At the boss's suggestion, Fang Shao ground some of the rice into white and fine powder. This powder can be used to make rice paste for breakfast and snacks, or to make rice cakes and rice biscuits, providing more choices.

He paid the money readily, and thinking that he might have similar needs in the future, Fang Shao added the boss's contact information before leaving.

When they walked out of the door, it was almost noon. Fang Shao dragged Liu Hao to have lunch together. Liu Hao was not polite and found a nearby home-style restaurant. The three of them had a simple meal, but when it came time to pay, Liu Hao slipped away to the front desk to pay the bill. Fang Shao was embarrassed. He was obviously doing a favor for him and he still treated him. But Liu Hao's reason seemed to be very sufficient. His home was nearby, so he should be the host.

Fang Shao had no choice but to invite Liu Hao to visit the bar when he was free.

"Okay, the wild mustard you gave me that time really kept me craving for a long time!" Liu Hao laughed.

After bidding farewell to Liu Hao, Fang Shao and Dave carried their bamboo baskets back home. They ate one third for themselves, gave one third to Zhu Lao, and one third to Stark. Well, that's not right. Westerners don't eat rice, so they should give Stark a little less, just as a token of appreciation.

Fang Shao was riding his bicycle while thinking happily.

The next day, Dave prepared the rice paste according to the method taught by his boss, sprinkled fried peanuts, chopped pickles, green onions and chili oil on it, and a bowl of Yizhou version of oil tea with good color, aroma and taste was ready.

After happily finishing this breakfast, Fang Shao felt a little unsatisfied. "It would be better if there were more seeds. It still lacks some layers."

"What is Sazi?" Dave, who was very curious, immediately stepped forward to ask.

"What? It's just some thin fried shreds..." Fang Shao, who could only eat it but not cook it, was a little confused, so he simply found the introduction and pictures on his mobile phone and sent them to Dave.

Dave looked at it for a while and suddenly realized what was going on. It seemed that Chef Dai's oil tea 2.0 version would be ready the next day.

Such a delicacy must be shared with everyone, so Fang Shao thought of adding this snack to the menu. It is simple to make, tastes good and has its own characteristics, which is a good choice for the bar. Rice noodles are also sold online, and various seasonings are also convenient to buy.

After adding a special snack, Fang Shao also wanted to give back to the customer. Although he had never met him, Fang Shao could guess from the writings he left that he should have lived before modern times, farmed and could write some simple words. Thinking of the millet he sent this time that had been dried but not threshed, Fang Shao had a good idea.

He took out his phone, found the number of the grocery store owner and called him.

"A more primitive thresher, a purely manual one? I don't have that old-fashioned stuff." Although the boss was confused, he still gave Fang Shao a suggestion. "The Agricultural Museum has this thing, you can go and have a look. Of course they don't sell it, you can ask whoever made it and ask them to make one for you."

This is a solid idea.