When I pushed open the door of the main room, a mixture of the faint fragrance of herbs and the warmth of food hit me in the face.
The house is not big and the furnishings are simple, but it exudes cleanliness and ingenuity of life everywhere.
The dirt floor was swept clean, the kang was warm, and the kang mat was covered with a clean coarse cloth.
Against the wall stood an old varnished cabinet, on which were neatly stacked books and some bottles and jars.
The most eye-catching thing was a polished eight-immortal table, on which was placed a large-bellied enamel teapot, a few coarse porcelain bowls, and a... earthenware vase with a few dry reeds and wild chrysanthemums in it? It actually had a bit of rustic charm.
The windows were newly pasted with white window paper and simple red window grilles. The sunlight shone through, making the room bright.
On the windowsill, in addition to several pots of garlic sprouts, there was also a pot of lush green vegetables.
Does this have anything to do with the "remote countryside", "poor family", "hard life"... that he imagined? !
The old man opened his mouth, looked at the dazzling emerald green vegetables on the windowsill, and then looked at his grandson's face which was covered in kiln dust but looked calm and composed.
The words "Grandson, you've suffered" that I had been holding back all the way were stuck in my throat and I couldn't utter them out.
In the end, he only managed to utter a mumble of confusion and disbelief through his teeth, his voice even lower than before, almost as if he was talking to himself:
"This thing is totally different from what I thought?"
Lu Qingyang swiftly took down the old apron hanging on the wall and tied it on, and walked towards the kitchen while saying: "Grandpa, please go to the kang first to warm up, the kang head is warm! You must be freezing all the way, I'll make you something warm to fill your stomach!"
Old Master Fang was dazed as his grandson pressed him down on the heated kang. The warmth from under his butt dispelled the last bit of coldness and also calmed his chaotic thoughts.
He watched Lu Qingyang busying himself in 께께's kitchen, his movements skillful and neat.
First, he stoked the fire in the stove, put an iron pot on the stove, and then took out some bottles and jars from the cupboard.
“Sizzle——”
A domineering and strong aroma suddenly exploded!
After the oil was heated, Lu Qingyang scooped a large spoonful of bright red, solidified oil and stir-fried it, then added a handful of chili peppers, Sichuan peppercorns, ginger slices, and garlic cloves.
Mr. Fang was choked by the sudden strong aroma and couldn't help coughing twice, but his eyes widened involuntarily.
This smell... was very fragrant and had a "wild" flavor that he had never smelled before, which aroused his appetite!
It was totally different from the watery Beijing-style shabu-shabu mutton he was familiar with, or the warm aroma of home-cooked meat!
"Grandpa, can you eat spicy food?" Lu Qingyang turned around and asked, the spatula in his hand flying, the red oil bubbling, and the aroma becoming more intense.
"It's...it's okay!" The old man was almost drooling at the aroma and responded subconsciously.
Lu Qingyang smiled and deftly added hot water, a few pieces of smashed ginger and green onion knots into the boiling red soup, and sprinkled some salt.
Soon, a pot of bright red, bubbling soup began to boil on the stove.
Then, Lu Qingyang prepared some ingredients for the hot pot, saying, "Let the driver come in and have a bite later, since he came all the way here."
"Okay, I'll ask him to drive the car over later."
A loud and cheerful voice sounded at the gate of the courtyard, "Qingyang, I heard that my grandfather-in-law is here?"
Mr. Fang looked in the direction of the voice and saw a thin old man wearing a half-worn but clean cotton jacket and a dog-skin hat striding in.
He was holding a clay pot in his hand, with a warm smile on his face, clear eyes and full of energy.
녊 is Shen Mo’s grandfather, Uncle Shen.
"Haha, I heard that my old brother from Beijing is here, how can I not come to see him?" Grandpa Shen said in a loud voice, his eyes fell directly on Grandpa Fang on the kang, with undisguised generosity and a kind smile, "Old brother, you have had a hard journey! You are still strong! I am Shen Mo's grandpa!"
Mr. Fang quickly stood up. Although he was still a little confused, he was very polite: "Brother Shen, I'm sorry to bother you! My name is Fang Henian, please take a seat!"
Looking at Mr. Shen in front of him, who was in good spirits and had no fear of being a "countryside farmer", his assumption of "whether his in-laws would be worried" was shaken a little.
Uncle Shen was not polite either. He took off his shoes and climbed onto the kang neatly. He sat cross-legged opposite Uncle Fang and placed the earthenware pot in his hand on the kang table: "I have warmed up the persimmon wine I brewed myself. I will use it to drive away the cold for you, old brother!"
He opened the lid, and a sweet and slightly sour aroma of wine mixed with the spicy taste of the hot pot.
At this time, Lu Qingyang had already brought the boiling red oil hot pot to the kang table and placed it on a thick straw mat.
Put the fresh meat and vegetables on plates and pour the prepared dipping sauce into the bowl.
"It's cold, let's have a hot pot to warm ourselves up!" Lu Qingyang put the dishes and chopsticks in place, took off his shoes and sat down on the kang, "Our home is simple, you two will enjoy a taste of our 'earth hot pot'!"
Grandpa Fang looked at the boiling red soup, the fragrant aroma, and the rich ingredients of the hot pot in front of him.
How is this "simple"?
"Good! Good! This pot smells so good! It smells really appetizing!" Uncle Shen was the first to pick up the chopsticks, picked up a piece of mutton and dipped it into the boiling red soup.
"Brother, don't just stand there, use your chopsticks! Try Qingyang's cooking skills. This is what you're cooking!" He gave a thumbs up.
Mr. Fang no longer hesitated, and followed Mr. Shen's example, picking up a thin piece of mutton and carefully dipping it into the boiling red oil.
When it was taken out after a few seconds, the mutton had changed color and curled up, covered with bright red soup.
He dipped it in the garlic sesame oil and put it into his mouth.
This…this…” Mr. Fang was so amazed by the taste he had never experienced before that he was speechless.
"How is it, old brother? Is it strong enough?" Grandpa Shen smiled and picked up the warm persimmon wine. "Come on, have one! Warm yourself up!"
Mr. Fang picked up the bowl of amber persimmon wine in front of him, clinked glasses with Mr. Shen, and took a sip.
It’s sweet and slightly sour, with a fruity aroma, which perfectly neutralizes the spiciness of the hot pot.
The hot steam from the hot pot was still lingering in the house. The spicy and fragrant aroma dominated the air and also soothed Mr. Fang's stomach, which was tired from the bumpy journey.
He ate so much that his forehead was slightly sweaty and his whole body was warm. He drank warm persimmon wine with Uncle Shen and talked about the deliciousness of this hot pot.
The bamboo fence door was gently pushed open with a creaky sound.
"Oh, Xiaomo is back!" Uncle Shen immediately smiled and lowered his voice. "Come in quickly, it's cold outside! It's warm by the stove!"
Old Master Fang also quickly put down his chopsticks, and his eyes first fell on Shen Mo's face and stomach.
Even though he was several steps away, he could clearly see that Shen Mo looked very good.
Her cheeks were healthily rosy, her skin was delicate and smooth, and her eyes were warm and peaceful, without any of the haggard look that he had imagined a pregnant woman to have.
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