Chapter 755: Planting Herbs
He Yushui handed the pheasant to Yang Xiaohua, and her ponytail swept across the back of Yang Xiaohua's hand:
"Look, Sister Xiaohua, this breast meat is so firm. How about we stew it with mushrooms tonight? I found half a bag of dried mushrooms in the warehouse yesterday."
When Yang Xiaohua took the pheasant, she could still feel the residual warmth of the bird's body, and her fingertips touched the firm muscles.
I remember when I was queuing up at the grain store in the city, I would occasionally catch a glimpse of a few lonely pieces of frozen meat on the butcher's counter, and I had to hold my meat ticket tightly before I dared to move forward.
But the heavy wild animal in her hands suddenly reminded her of the day she first arrived in the Great Northern Wilderness.
The bowl of braised pork that Shen Chunhua stuffed into her's mouth had the fat trembling in the porcelain bowl and oil dripping down the edge of the bowl.
"Put it on the chopping board quickly,"
She turned and walked towards the kitchen, her apron strings swaying in a lively arc behind her.
"I'm going to boil some water to remove the hair. You guys take a break. By the way, I dug up some freshly harvested carrots from the vegetable cellar this morning. They will definitely be delicious when stewed with pheasant."
The setting sun shone onto her through the window, turning the flour on her temples golden. He Yushui watched her back as she was busy at the stove, and suddenly heard a rustling sound coming from the cupboard.
"Sister Xiaohua, what are you hearing?"
She leaned over to take a look, and saw Yang Xiaohua taking out a chipped coarse porcelain bowl from the depths of the cupboard, which contained half a half-eaten corn tortilla.
"This is an afternoon snack for you,"
Yang Xiaohua broke the cake into two halves and handed it over, then she picked up a kitchen knife and began to scrape the dead skin off the pheasant's claws.
"We'll have some soup later, and we can also drink a couple of cups of Shaodaozi that Brother Zhao has hidden away. It'll keep you warm in this weather."
When Zhao Shuzhuo took the tortilla, he saw that Yang Xiaohua's wrist still had a scar from chopping wood when she first came to the Great Northern Wilderness, but now it was glowing a healthy pink under the dim light.
The sky outside the window gradually darkened, and the flames in the stove crackled, casting three shadows on the earthen wall.
He Yushui was standing on tiptoe to sprinkle salt into the pot, Yang Xiaohua was stirring the tumbling pieces of meat with bamboo chopsticks, and he himself was stuffing the last bite of corn tortilla into his mouth, the salty and fragrant gravy had already overflowed along the edge of the pot.
"Look at this oil stain,"
Yang Xiaohua skimmed the golden surface of the soup with a spoon and suddenly looked up at the dark forest outside the window.
"Where in the city have I seen such a scene? Yesterday I saw some bacon hanging on the beams of the warehouse. Brother Zhao said that when the snow blocks the door in winter, we can have meat for every meal."
When she spoke, her eyes lit up like sparks in a stove, and He Yushui suddenly remembered the first time he met her.
The girl was still holding a wrinkled letter of introduction, her cuffs were worn white, but now she could lift a copper kettle full of hot water with one hand, and the scar on her wrist was faintly visible in the steam.
"Sister Xiaohua, let's go pick ferns in the spring."
He Yushui poured the washed mushrooms into the pot, and steam rose up with a sizzling sound.
"I heard from my fellow villagers that the wild peppers in the valley are growing well. When the time comes, we can make a hot and sour pheasant stew. It will definitely be more delicious than the braised pork elbow in sauce at the butcher shop."
Yang Xiaohua smiled and nodded. The flour on her temples was finally softened by the steam, and slid down her cheeks and fell into the pile of flour on her apron, like a handful of silver coins.
The chimney of the adobe house was still sending smoke into the sky, the neighbor's dog barked from next door, and occasionally a night bird flapped its wings in the woods in the distance.
He Yushui looked at the pieces of meat rolling in the pot and suddenly felt that the night in the Great Northern Wilderness was like this pot of pheasant soup that became more and more fragrant as it stewed.
All the cold and fatigue melted away in the hot air, and even the smile lines at the corners of Yang Xiaohua's eyes turned into warm ripples under the light.
As dusk spread over the roof, He Yushui was adding pine branches into the stove. Sparks crackled on the gray bricks, making the loose hair on her temples glow with warm light.
Yang Xiaohua was wearing a blue apron and cutting freshly picked green peppers on the chopping board. As the knife moved up and down, the emerald green pepper shreds were neatly stacked into a small hill. Occasionally, a few seeds would bounce onto the windowsill, startling the sparrows that were perched there.
"Sister Yushui, do you smell the fragrance of this bacon?"
Yang Xiaohua suddenly straightened up and rubbed the tip of her nose with the back of her hand. The soup in the casserole on the stove was bubbling. The dark brown pork skin absorbed the sauce and trembled slightly in the steam.
He Yushui smiled and poked the skin with a bamboo chopstick, and it immediately bounced back softly:
"It's almost done. Just simmer a pot of brown rice and we'll be ready."
At this moment, the wooden door of the main room was pushed open with a creaky sound, and Zhao Shuzhuo's voice came in with the cool air from outside:
"We're back."
Yang Huaixi followed behind with half a basket of firewood on his back, beads of sweat on his forehead.
Yang Huaiqing was like a happy deer, rushing to the kitchen with mud on the soles of his shoes, and the red hairband on his braid swayed like a ball of fire in the twilight.
"Sister Yushui! Sister Xiaohua!"
Yang Huaiqing's voice was like a firecracker that had just been fired, shaking off half of the dust on the roof beams.
"Do you know what we did today? Brother Zhao took us for a long walk around the back of the mountain. My brother had sharp eyes and found a depression in the west slope. The grass was taller than a person..."
He suddenly stood on tiptoe and moved closer to the stove, with his nose almost touching the pot.
"That land is amazing. The moisture is so high that you can squeeze water out of it. My brother squatted on the ground and dug the mud for a long time. He said that this kind of place is most suitable for growing astragalus and codonopsis!"
Yang Xiaohua poured the chopped green peppers into the wok. A sizzling sound covered Huaiqing's words. As the smoke rose with the aroma of the vegetables, Zhao Shuzhuo suddenly coughed lightly at the door.
He took off the heavy backpack, glanced at Huai Qing's joyful face, and then turned to He Yushui calmly:
"I met Uncle Wang on the road, and he said it was time to replace the steel blade on his plow."
Yang Huaiqing was just talking excitedly when he saw Zhao Shuzhuo interrupting him. He stamped his feet anxiously:
"Brother Zhao, don't interrupt me! I haven't finished yet - do you know where that piece of land is? It's..."
"Huaiqing."
Zhao Shuzhuo's voice became deeper. He pointed to the copper basin beside the water tank, and the old watch chain on his wrist flashed in the dim light.
"Go wash your hands first and look at the mud under your fingernails."
Only then did Yang Huaiqing notice that Zhao Shuzhuo winked at him, and those eyes that always smiled now revealed a hint of seriousness.
He followed his gaze and saw Yu Shui stirring the vegetables in the pot with a spoon, the firelight flickering on her face.
Suddenly he swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue, muttered "I know", but when he passed by Zhao Shuzhuo, he secretly tugged at the corner of his clothes.
When Zhao Shuzhuo lowered his head, he saw him silently asking with his mouth:
"Why not let me say it?"
He didn't answer, but raised his hand to rub Yang Huaiqing's head and pushed her towards the basin.
The sky outside the window darkened completely, and a few dogs barked in the distance.
The moment the oil lamp in the kitchen was lit, He Yushui just picked up the steaming clay pot. The porcelain spoon hit the edge of the pot, making a crisp sound, which sounded like spring water dripping in a mountain stream.