Chapter 3: Fighting for Water
The interior of the house could be described as having nothing but four bare walls. The only things of some value were the two new sets of bedding bought before the new year, and half a vat of rice left over.
The walls, built with yellow mud mixed with thatch, were neither warm nor moisture-resistant.
When the rain was heavy, it would patter down along the thatched roof.
Heavy rain outside meant heavy rain inside; it was very bitter.
Fortunately, this year was another severe drought, so there was no need to worry about the roof leaking.
Squatting next to the woodshed with a kitchen knife, he scraped the scales off the silver carp, cut open its belly, and washed it clean.
Then he brought a relatively large clay bowl and boiled the fish together with water.
After it was cooked, he mashed it. Waiting until the broth was as white and tender as milk, he then used a thin cloth to filter out the tiny fish bones.
By this time, the rice was already steamed. He poured it into a clay pot and sprinkled some coarse salt on it.