Yang Donghu was a little overwhelmed by the sudden question, and his movements when he turned to look at the old lady were a little stiff.
The old lady's expression did not change, and even the hand that picked up the spoon was still as calm and unhurried, as if it was really such a casual question.
Yang Donghu muttered to himself that he was careless. How could a person who had been tortured since childhood and had little experience make such fancy things?
Zhu Cuilan didn't notice anything was wrong between the two of them, and she said cheerfully, "Donghu is very smart. You know how to raise children. Among the guys and girls in our village, not to mention the guys, there's no one as capable as Donghu and can make money. When he first came here, he made something called snowball hawthorn. Oh, he must have been very clever, otherwise I would have racked my brains to think that snow could grow on hawthorn."
Yang Donghu looked at the old lady and said carefully: "Dachuan's mother is from the south. She often mentioned these things to me, so I just tried to make them."
The old lady nodded, her expression unchanged from beginning to end, still looking gentle. She looked at Yang Donghu with a loving gaze: "No wonder, this is the first time I've heard of hawthorn. Can you make some for me to try next time?"
The old lady seemed to believe this excuse, so Yang Donghu breathed a sigh of relief: "Okay, it's not hawthorn season now. Wait until the summer heat is over, then we can go to the mountains and pick some fresh ones to cook."
Although Zhao Fangchu couldn't eat the peaches, he had to sit by and watch. His nose was filled with the sweet fragrance of the peaches and he didn't care what others said.
The old lady reached out and rubbed the top of his head, and said with a smile: "Poor little thing, wait until you are ready before eating."
Zhao Fangchu wanted to cry but had no tears, so he just nodded twice and tried to hold it in.
Yang Donghu was afraid that if the topic continued to revolve around him, he would reveal more and arouse the old lady's suspicion. He put down his bowl after finishing his meal, wiped his mouth and said, "Qiqiao Festival is coming soon. I heard that there's a three-day gathering around Mingyue Bridge next to Taoyuan. Some people are offering Qiao fruit to Taoyuan and floating lanterns in the river. Should we go and join in the fun?"
"Grandma, you should go too when the time comes and get some fresh air." Yang Donghu pulled the old lady's arm and begged.
The old lady patted her legs and said softly, "My legs are not good. I can't walk and it will delay your fun. I won't go, but."
She pulled Yang Donghu over to her lap and said, "I can make lanterns. I'll make a special one for you when the time comes. I guarantee no one else has one, okay?"
Zhao Fangchu had nothing to eat, and he had to have his share of the fun. He was afraid that the old lady would forget about him, so he quickly interrupted: "Grandma, I want some too."
"Okay, okay." The old lady agreed with a smile and looked at Yang Chunxiao: "None of you three can be missing."
Yang Chunxiao hadn't been able to join in the fun on such days, so seeing that her grandmother hadn't forgotten her, she felt touched: "Thank you, grandma."
"When I heard about this, you seemed to be very excited. You just ate and played all day long, with no other thoughts in your mind."
Zhu Cuilan finished her meal and started to clean up the leftovers. There were only a few bowls, so it wasn't a big deal. Yang Chunxiao tried to grab them, but she pushed him down and said, "You should take a break too. There's no point fighting over a few bowls. You won't get tired."
As she spoke, she nagged Zhao Fangchu a bit: "You seem so excited when you hear about this. You've been eating and playing all day, with no other thoughts in your mind. Have you embroidered the handkerchief for the Qiqiao Festival? Where's the sachet? Are you just going there to join in the fun?"
Although she said this, she was actually hoping that Zhao Fang would do well on his first day. If he could find a good husband right away, it would be a relief.
Zhao Fangchu wilted when he heard this, frowned, hung his head and did not answer.
Yang Donghu could help him with other things. He could make the delicious cakes from Feng Taoyuan as exquisitely as he wanted, but his embroidery skills were not as good as Zhao Fangchu's. If he embroidered a handkerchief for Zhao Fangchu, he would probably never get married in his life.
The Qiqiao Festival was originally a day for girls and boys to get together to compete in embroidery skills. Since when, it has gradually become more lively. The story of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl is so touching that some people believe that if they can find their lifelong partner on this day, they will be together for the rest of their lives.
I don’t know whether the rumor is true or not, but if it has good intentions, who wouldn’t want to get involved?
When a man who wants to beg for a girl wants to get married, he will first look at the embroidery work and then the appearance. On that day, if a girl wants to find a marriage partner, she will try her best to carry the best handkerchiefs and sachets she has embroidered with her. If someone likes her, she will generously give them to show her love.
If the man also accepts it, it means that the two of them are in love with each other, and they can find a matchmaker to come and propose marriage the next day.
Zhao Fangchu's embroidery skills are average, not even 30% of Zhu Cuilan's. If he had Yang Anjin's good embroidery skills, Zhu Cuilan wouldn't have to worry so much.
She nagged for a while but knew Zhao Fangchu wouldn't listen. She even wanted to embroider for him herself, but she could hide it for a while but not forever. Even if Zhu Cuilan did that, she was afraid of getting a reputation for being dishonest.
After eating the peaches, the time passed in a flash. Zhao Luochuan had originally said that he would be back in half a month after going up the mountain, but if we count carefully from the day he left, more than sixteen days have passed. In two days, it will be the Qiqiao Festival. I wonder if he can make it back in time.
Yang Donghu was getting anxious and depressed. The peaches on the tree ripened quickly, and he could pick half a basket every day. Now the remaining peaches on the tree were blocked by the leaves and not much could be seen.
It was a very hot day at the time, and the skin of the fresh peaches started to dry out soon after being picked, making them difficult to store. It was a pity to waste such good peaches, so Yang Donghu simply pickled the leftover ones in honey and used them as fillings for peach blossom cakes.
The pickled peaches are pink and tender, but they will not look so outstanding if they are wrapped in peach blossom cakes, and their color will become darker after baking.
If it could be as pink and tender as peach filling, and then pressed into a nice shape with a mold, it might sell better than peach blossom cakes.
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