When Mu Ruanruan took out the bag of dried fish, Jiang Xiaotao was stunned.
He couldn't remember when he had eaten fish, let alone so much. The bag in Teacher Mu's hand should be more than half a pound.
Ever since he could remember, his father's legs were disabled and he could not go out to work. The villagers felt sorry for the father and son and found him a job weaving winnowing baskets. Even so, his uncle had to chop bamboo for them after work.
When he was a child, he sat next to his father and watched him weave bamboo strips into various things, from early morning to midnight, without stopping.
Later, when I grew up, I learned that most of the things my father made had to be handed in, and only a few were left that my uncle could take to Zhenshan to sell in exchange for food and daily necessities.
Even if they ate coarse food and vegetables, it was often not enough to feed the father and son, let alone meat.
Later, my father became more and more skilled at handicrafts, and he was able to sell more and more things, but even so, he still barely made ends meet with the help of my uncle.
During the Chinese New Year, we can eat meat, and occasionally my uncle will catch fish and shrimp and bring them over to eat with us.
The last time Jiang Xiaotao ate fish was a long time ago, and he almost forgot what fish tasted like.
This kind of dried fish is oily and smells very fragrant. It must be very expensive. Even when Aunt Niu Ying came, she never brought him such delicious food.
I heard that Aunt Niu Ying is going to marry my uncle in the future, so it would be perfect if Teacher Mu could be her mother.
Jiang Xiaotao drooled as he looked at the bag of dried fish.
They were all small fish, only about a finger wide, deep-fried, still very fresh and a little warm to the touch.
An idea germinated in Jiang Xiaotao's mind, and it was about to burst out. Should he tell it or not? Would Teacher Mu agree?
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