"Comrade Qiao Mo, your stove is not ready yet. It will definitely not work for another day. Come to our place and cook first."
"Is it okay?" Qiao Mo asked in surprise. In her previous life, she vomited after eating instant noodles, and now she doesn't want to eat this stuff anymore.
"Of course it's true. You are a martyr's relative and you are still young. We will definitely take care of you." Han Yimo saw the surprise in her eyes and thought that Brother Yuan's decision was very good.
"Thank you." Qiao Mo happily picked up the rice, put it in the iron pot, and then carried the pot to their kitchen.
"Put it on that stove and cook it." Seeing her come in, Kang Mingyuan, who was lighting the fire, pointed to the small stove next to him. "You go do something else first. I'll light the fire for you."
"Thank you, Comrade Kang." Qiao Mo didn't bother to be polite with him. She still had to go wash the vegetables.
Back in her room, she picked and washed the water spinach, then entered the wooden bracelet space again. She used a can to dig a bottle of lard from the oil tank in the kitchen of the wooden house, wrapped some crushed coarse salt in oil paper, found a clove of garlic, a small chopping board, a kitchen knife, and a small bamboo sieve and took them out.
She didn't take the bowl, not because the bowl in the wooden bracelet space was too big, or because it was impossible to fit so many things in her quilt and box, especially something as fragile and not very valuable as a bowl. Taking it out would only arouse suspicion.
Qiao Mo washed the chopping board and kitchen knife, peeled the garlic cloves, smashed them and chopped them into small pieces, then put them into the lunch box. Then he took the oil and salt and the water spinach in the sieve to the kitchen.
By this time, Kang Mingyuan and his friends had cooked their rice and were preparing to stir-fry the dishes. Qiao Mo couldn't help but twitch his lips when he saw Han Yimo pouring half a basin of lively loaches into the pot and adding water to boil.
"Comrade Han, how long have you been raising these loaches? Have they ever spit out the mud?"
"What happened to you when you were catching people at noon last year and you spit mud?" Han looked at her in confusion.
"Spitting out mud means that the loach has not been opened yet and there is a lot of dirt in its stomach. We have to keep it for a few days until it spits out all the dirt in its stomach before we can eat it." Qiao Mo explained helplessly.
"What should we do now?" Han Yimo didn't expect that there were so many details to pay attention to when making loach. No wonder the loach they cooked was fishy and bitter and not tasty at all. If the villagers hadn't said that loach and eel were good for nourishing the body, they would have stuffed them into their mouths in order to replenish their strength. Otherwise, he would never eat it even if he was beaten to death.
"Do you have to eat every day?"
"Well, there's nothing else to eat, so I can only eat this."
"Then cut it open and take out the internal organs." Qiao Mo took a sieve and poured out the loach.
"We won't." Han Yimo scratched his hair, unwilling to speak.
"Do you have scissors?" Qiao Mo knew that they didn't know how to use them, so she had to bite the bullet and help. Fortunately, she had done this kind of thing many times in her previous life, and she was numb to it after doing it so many times.
"No."
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