Jiang Wanyue was very excited.
A cornucopia can produce water and eggs, but can it produce money?
Song Laosi gave all of his six-dollar monthly subsidy to the original owner, so there should be some left.
She quickly searched the house. The key was hidden in a jar under the bed. She opened the wooden box and the first thing that caught her eye was a bag of sweet potatoes and a small bag of black flour. In addition to food, there were also some cloth, paper, pen, envelopes, and a stack of stamps.
Seeing this, Jiang Wanyue shook her head.
The original person would write to her parents in the provincial capital almost every month, asking her family to find a way to let her return to the city.
But all the letters I sent out fell into the sea.
Jiang Wanyue turned to the bottom of the box and found a cloth bag. After opening it layer by layer, she finally saw the money!
However, the money was not much, only four dollars and seventy-three cents.
She tried to recall that most of her original money was used to buy paper, pens, envelopes and other things. Every once in a while, she would go to the county town to send a telegram to her parents. In those days, sending a telegram was expensive and was charged by the number of words. Her original self would spend four or five yuan each time.
Unfortunately, there was no response to the telegram.
Jiang Wanyue could also understand. After all, the original body was an adopted daughter. After the Jiang family’s biological daughter was found, the original body was naturally abandoned.
But the original body could not accept this fact, and wrote letters and sent telegrams day after day, like a possessed person.
She was too lazy to think about these trivial matters and put all her money into the treasure pot.
Everyone was busy with all sorts of things and it was getting late.
Jiang Wanyue's stomach was playing the empty city plan.
When she was studying abroad, she couldn't get used to foreign food, so she reluctantly learned to cook, but her cooking skills were average.
She walked out and saw her youngest son still sitting in the yard playing in the mud, while her older son and daughter were watering the vegetables in their private plots. There were only a few kinds of vegetables, just radishes, cabbages, and a bunch of green vegetables that she couldn't name.
The original person hated doing farm work the most, so the matters concerning the private plots were either handled by her husband or handed over to the sensible children.
"Huaizhi, Yingzi, just pick some vegetables and bring them in."
Jiang Wanyue gave an order and turned to walk towards the kitchen at the back.
The kitchen was a low shed made of reed poles, with dry firewood piled on one half and an earthen stove on the other half. On the stove was a small, somewhat broken pot.
There are limited ingredients at home, so you don’t need to think too much about what to cook.
Let’s light a fire first.
She found a match, scratched it, and the fire started, and she quickly put it on the dry wood.
But before the wood could burn, the fire went out with a puff.
She used several more matches, but there was no spark.
Jiang Wanyue wanted to cry.
No one told her that it was so difficult to make a fire. How was she going to live in the future...
"I'll do it."
A voice sounded behind me.
She stood up calmly and gave up her seat.
Song Huaizhi walked forward and squatted down. He first gathered a handful of hay together, then scraped a match and put it at the bottom of the hay. After a while, the hay caught fire. He quickly threw the hay into the stove, then put some corn stalks in and blew on them. The fire instantly grew bigger. Finally, he put the dry firewood on the fire.
Jiang Wanyue gave a thumbs up: "Huaizhi, you are so awesome!"
Song Huaizhi looked at her with a puzzled look.
For some reason, he felt that his mother seemed different.
Would be willing to hold Huazi.
Will touch Yingzi's hair.
I would praise him for being great...
Instead of looking unhappy every day like before and always ignoring the three of them.
"Hey, where's the oil?"
Jiang Wanyue searched the whole kitchen but couldn't find the oil can.
Song Huaizhi took out half a piece of pig skin from a basket on the wall and handed it over: "Here."
Jiang Wanyue was stunned.
The conditions of this family should be considered good in the village, but it turned out that they didn't even have oil.
The original person would rather spend money on stationery and stamps that are destined to receive no reply, rather than buy some oil for the family... Alas!
She took the pig skin that had been used who knows how many times and rubbed it on the bottom of the pot...it would be better not to use this little bit of oil.
Jiang Wanyue originally planned to make pancakes, but now it seems that she can't do that. Forget it, she'd better make dumpling soup, even without oil.
She poured water into the pot and boiled it first.
Then pour the black noodles into a large bowl and beat an egg into it and stir.
Her action made Song Huaizhi stunned for a moment.
There were two hens at home. His mother would collect the eggs they laid every day and take them to the supply and marketing cooperative to exchange for money, which she would then bring back to buy paper and pens. He and his younger brothers and sisters could only eat eggs during the Chinese New Year and other festivals.
Jiang Wanyue had no idea that a seven-year-old child had so many thoughts, so she continued to stir busy herself.
Wait until the water in the pot boils, then pour the dumpling noodles into the boiling water, stir with chopsticks to prevent them from sticking to the pot. After the noodles float up, add the chopped vegetables and sprinkle some salt. After a while, the dumpling soup will be ready.
She took out four bowls and served one to each of them: "Huaizhi, don't move. I'll serve."
If I accidentally get burned, I can’t afford to go to the hospital.
When everything was done, it was already dark and the family sat at the dining table in the dark.
Jiang Wanyue really couldn't get used to this kind of light.
She searched the room, found a kerosene lamp, lit it, and placed it on the table.
"Mom, it's delicious!" Song Yunying licked her lips, "It tastes like eggs."
Song Huaizhi's eyes were complicated.
In the past, we ate sweet potatoes or black bean porridge for every meal at home, and my mother never changed the dishes.
I always feel like my mother has become a different person.
He first fed Huazi a mouthful with a spoon, and the little guy immediately danced with joy.
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