While Yu Yang was away, Chen Hong released a lot of daily necessities and farming tools.
Grabbing a bamboo basket and a plastic box, and carrying a pickaxe, Chen Hong ran back.
Accompanied by the sounds of picks digging through the soil, a large pile of plump bamboo shoots, each as thick as an adult's wrist and resembling a hand grenade, gradually gathered together.
While she was using a pickaxe to dig around in the soil where she thought there might be bamboo shoots, she would occasionally glance at her son who was diligently picking bamboo fungus.
Yu Yang is very capable. He had heard his mother say that wild bamboo fungus is very expensive and is only produced in the south.
Last year, their family ate it without interruption, all of which were picked by the mother from here.
Stewed pork ribs, stewed chicken, and stewed duck are all especially delicious; these are the most popular dishes in their household.
He had to work hard and hurry up, because his mother said that if he didn't pick all the bamboo fungus that had opened their caps, they would rot, which would be such a waste. If he could sell them, they would be worth a lot of money!
Even if we don't sell them, if we harvest too many, we can give some to relatives and friends.
Last year, the family harvested very little, so my mother didn't give it away and saved it all to stew for him.
He knew this even though no one told him. These mushrooms were too expensive; neither his maternal grandfather's nor his aunt's family would be willing to spend the money to buy them. It was only at his house that he had eaten them for the first time.
He couldn't let such good stuff rot in the ground; that would be such a waste.
At first, the child squatted to pick the leaves, but later, when his legs went numb from squatting, he grabbed a large leaf, laid it under his bottom, and started picking while sitting.
This kid is quite cunning; he uses his buttocks as the center point and circles around to pick mushrooms.
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