Guan Hongbo nodded, went into the house, got the key, opened the door, and said, "There are some sundries in here, everyone help clean it up."
Then Guan Hongbo asked Song Nanting, "Are you sure you want to cook?"
Song Nanting nodded, "OK."
"Okay, we won't force you." Guan Hongbo was happy that she didn't participate, and pointed to the things in the kitchen, "You can use the pots, pans, and firewood, but not the oil, salt, sauce, and vinegar."
That's quite clear.
Song Nanting said, "I have a small pot of my own, I can use mine, but I need to borrow some firewood."
"Will you return it if I borrow it?" asked a female educated youth.
If they were all good people, Song Nanting wouldn't mind making friends with them and getting along well with them. If she used their firewood, she would have to subsidize them in other ways.
But if the other party does not want to live in peace with her, then she must draw a clear line.
"Yes, it is." Song Nanting said as she looked at the house. After all, it was an earthen house. The house was not big, the windows were small, and it was pitch dark inside.
There is no way around it. There is no electricity in the village and we can only rely on kerosene lamps at night.
Guan Hongbo brought over a flashlight and said, "Hurry up and do it."
No one wanted to stay here late at night, so they all got busy.
There weren't many things in there to begin with, so the main thing was to tidy up and clean the kang, and then clean the kang path, and then light a fire so that it could be lived in.
Guan Hongbo said, "The rest is up to you to do."
Song Nanting nodded, "Okay."
Everyone went back to the house.
It's really exhausting to stay outside for an hour or two in such a cold weather.
After everyone left, Song Nanting closed the door and looked at the small room with the light of the flashlight.
This is where she temporarily stays.
When Song Nanting took the quilt out of the luggage bag, she heard a scream outside.
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