Chapter 9 - 008 Dad
Killing a chicken was a trivial matter for Tian Sangsang. Back in the countryside, she used to help her aunt kill chickens. Pin the chicken down, flip it over and snip, scrape with a knife, blood pouring out; pour hot water over it, pluck the feathers, and the basics were done. Chicken feathers couldn't be thrown away either—people specifically came to collect them, and they could be sold for money.
But now, she was too hungry. Killing a chicken was exhausting work, so she decided to make something else to fill her stomach first. After all, there was still her son to think of.
Tian Sangsang went back into the house to take a look. There was a tiny bit of rice left in the jar, a bit of flour in the storage room, plus the wild vegetables Meng Shuyan had just picked. As for seasoning, on top of the stove was a small jar of lard and some salt—more than enough to make a meal to warm their stomachs.
Tian Sangsang took out the wild vegetables, pulled two green onions from the yard, and checked. There was no well in the yard, but the jar had plenty of water left—just enough. She used the water to wash the vegetables and onions clean, then cut them up. Walking to the stove, she rinsed out the large black pot with water.
She remembered how back then, things weren't as convenient as they were later. Cooking required burning firewood. Tian Sangsang fumbled around the stove for a long time but couldn't find a lighter or matches.
"Mommy, here ~" Meng Shuyan suddenly appeared, holding a small box of matches in his hand and handing it to her.
Looking at her adorable son, Tian Sangsang couldn't resist planting a kiss on his cheek and patting his little head. "Yanyan is amazing!"
Meng Shuyan stared at her in a daze. This was the third time—over the four years of his life, this was the third time his mom had kissed him. Ever since she'd started walking around the place washing and chopping vegetables, he'd been watching her curiously. Mom had never done things like this before—it was so strange. But he was happy, and he felt a bit of fondness for it...
Tian Sangsang struck a match, and a spark burst forth. She adjusted the firewood in the stove and placed the match underneath to light it. As the fire grew and the pot heated up, she scooped a spoonful of lard into the pot. When the oil was hot, she added some chopped onions. The fragrance of sizzling onions filled the air, causing Meng Shuyan to sniff instinctively. She habitually wanted to add chili but remembered there were no red chilies here. From the moment she'd arrived in this world, she'd realized this was in the South. In her past life, she'd been a Northerner who liked adding a bit of spice to everything—even the steamed buns she ate as a child were always dipped in chili sauce. Later, when she worked in the South, she got used to Southern cuisine—a balance between the two worlds. But the South's mild flavor palate always stood out, with few dishes having any heat.