Grandma Gu's house is located in Qingyu Lane, not far from Fu'ai Road, separated by several lanes. Like Zhao Di's lane, it is a very crowded little lane.
Ye Qingqing quickly arrived at Qingyu Lane and found number 56.
Number 56 is an old-style shikumen house, similar to Hu Laosan's house. More than a dozen families live in the courtyard. Several old women are pasting paper boxes at the door. Because of the rare good weather today, there is not a breath of wind. The sun has not yet set, and many people are out sunbathing.
"Grandma, could you tell me which room Grandma Gu who sells balut lives in?" Ye Qingqing asked politely.
The older women took a liking to Ye Qingqing, seeing that she was a pretty and clean young girl, and said with smiles, "Her home is in the attic room on the second floor. Young lady, are you here to buy balut?"
"No, I'm here to eat at Grandma Gu's house."
Ye Qingqing thanked them, carrying a bag of apples and a box of malted milk powder that she had just bought at the store, and went upstairs under the questioning gazes of several middle-aged women.
The pavilion room is the worst room in the whole building. It is a small room that the thrifty people of Pingjiang partitioned off using every nook and cranny. It is at most ten square meters.
The pavilion-style rooms are cold in winter and hot in summer. In the past, they were usually used by servants. Families with a little money would not rent such houses, preferring to spend more money to live more comfortably.
Ye Qingqing felt a pang of sadness. Grandma Gu was so old, living in such poor conditions, yet she still had to set up a stall to earn money to support her mentally challenged son. What had happened to her?
Has her husband and family all disappeared?
As soon as Ye Qingqing reached the top of the stairs, she smelled the mouthwatering aroma, and her mouth watered.
The pavilion room wasn't on the second floor; to be precise, it was on the first and a half floors. Ye Qingqing saw it after walking only a few steps. Granny Gu was sitting at the door, with a small coal stove in front of her. Something was stewing on the stove, and the aroma was wafting from the pot.
As they got closer, the aroma grew stronger, and Ye Qingqing's mouth watered incessantly, while her stomach growled.
My body completely lost control of my brain and reacted instinctively. How embarrassing!
"Grandma, I'm here!" Ye Qingqing greeted loudly.
Grandma Gu looked at her kindly, but when she saw what was in her hand, her smile disappeared. "Why did you bring anything when you came to eat? Take it back later, Grandma will buy it herself."
Fruits are expensive in winter, and malted milk powder isn't cheap either, so she can't accept anything from the little girl.
"I won't buy it next time."
Ye Qingqing chuckled and went into the house. She put her things on the cabinet and found the house empty. She wondered if Grandma Gu didn't live with her mentally challenged son.
"My son is cooking in the kitchen. Honey, wait here for a bit while I go get the groceries!"
Grandma Gu got up. The kitchen was on the second floor. She took a tray and went upstairs to get the vegetables.
Ye Qingqing was alone in the house. The aroma of the soup on the stove grew stronger and stronger. She couldn't help but lift the lid and take a look. It turned out to be the pickled bamboo shoots and pork soup that Tang Yuanyuan had mentioned not long ago. She was craving it, and she didn't expect that Grandma Gu would serve her this dish.
She's so understanding.
Ye Qingqing swallowed. The soup had turned milky white and was bubbling away, steaming hot. The aroma alone made her teeth ache.
Tang Yuanyuan used to describe the deliciousness of food as "so delicious it makes your teeth fall out," which she thought was an exaggeration. But now, she finally understands that feeling.
My teeth are really falling out!
I really want to take a spoon and scoop up a spoonful of soup!
Ye Qingqing suppressed her urge to sneak a sip of the soup, put the lid on, went into the room and stopped looking at the soup, even pinching her nose tightly.
If you can't see it or smell it, you won't crave it!
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