Everyone's been reborn, so who would bother finding a wife on their own?

Chapter 94 Starting a Fire and Cooking

The smoke in the kitchen was so thick it was impossible to disperse.

Song Huan squatted at the stove opening, clutching a handful of straw in her hand, her face flushed red from the smoke.

He turned his head and glanced at the person squatting next to him. Xiao Yunqing was stuffing firewood into the stove, stuffing it in so tightly that whole dry branches were being shoved in, like a duck being force-fed.

"Xiao Yunqing, don't stuff so much in..."

Before he could finish speaking, a loud "boom" came from the stove, and a thick plume of smoke billowed out of the stove opening, like a smoke bomb.

Holy crap, who sealed off the cigarettes?!

Both of them choked and leaned back.

Song Huan burst into tears as she rushed out of the smoke, standing at the kitchen doorway, gasping for breath, her eyes stinging so badly she couldn't open them.

"Xiao Yunqing! Are you trying to choke me to death?!"

Before the smoke had even cleared, Xiao Yunqing ran out from inside.

His face was covered in black soot, making him look like a spotted cat.

The ponytail was dusty, the bangs were stuck to the forehead, and there was a black mark on the tip of the nose, I don't know when it was rubbed off.

She stood at the door, looking at Song Huan's expression, and pouted, "I didn't mean to."

Her voice sounded very aggrieved, with the last syllable dropping downwards, like a child who had done something wrong.

"You're a real talent!"

Song Huan wiped away her tears, looked at her messy face, and wanted to scold her but couldn't.

She definitely didn't do it on purpose.

This girl grew up in the city and couldn't even use a gas stove properly; she'd never seen a traditional earthen stove before.

When she said "I'll start the fire" just now, she was so confident. She rolled up her sleeves and crawled behind the stove, like she was going to war.

Who would have thought that starting a fire could turn into a war?

"I just wanted to help you."

Xiao Yunqing lowered her head, her fingers twisting together on the hem of her clothes, her voice growing softer and softer, "I see you're busy washing vegetables, chopping vegetables, and starting the fire, you can't manage it all... but I can't do anything, I can't even start a fire properly..."

Her innermost thoughts drifted over, soft and yielding, like cotton soaked by rain.

I'm so useless.

[Will he find me troublesome?]

[He can't even start a fire properly.]

Song Huan sighed, walked over, and reached out to wipe her face.

When I rubbed my finger over it, the black mark didn't come off; instead, it spread and smeared from the tip of my nose to my cheek, making it even more of a mess.

Xiao Yunqing was stunned for a moment, but did not dodge.

Looking at the increasingly smudged face, Song Huan couldn't help but chuckle.

"What are you laughing at!" she snapped, raising her hand to rub her face haphazardly, making it even more smudged.

"Alright, alright, stop wiping." Song Huan grabbed her hand. "Come here, I'll teach you."

He turned around and walked back behind the stove, then squatted down.

Xiao Yunqing followed behind and squatted down next to him.

The fire in the stove had gone out, leaving only a few pieces of red-hot wood, dark red, like a filament about to go out.

Smoke was still rising from the stove, faint and carrying the smell of wood ash.

Song Huan took a handful of dry leaves from the side, smoothed them out in her hand, and divided them into two bunches.

"Watch this."

He stuffed a handful of dry leaves into the stove and placed them on top of the red-hot coals.

When dry leaves come into contact with charcoal fire, they first smoke, and then a small flame bursts out with a "poof".

"A bigger fire isn't always better; it has to be done slowly. You can't cram too much firewood in at once, or the air won't get in, and the fire won't catch fire."

He took the dry branch that Xiao Yunqing had been clutching until it was hot from her grasp, broke it in two, and gently placed it over the flames.

The flames licked at the branches, making crackling sounds.

"Wait until the fire is stable before adding more firewood. Add the thinner pieces first, then the thicker ones. Thinner pieces light easily, while thicker pieces burn longer. Add them one at a time, don't rush."

He stirred the firewood in the stove, and the fire calmed down. The orange-red light shone on his face, illuminating the lines of his profile clearly.

Xiao Yunqing squatted down beside him, listening intently.

Her eyes were fixed on the fire in the stove, unblinking. The firelight danced in her pupils, sparkling brightly.

I paid much more attention than I did in physics class.

Did you understand?

"Mmm." She nodded, a wide nod that made her ponytail sway.

"Then you give it a try."

Song Huan moved aside to give her her seat.

Xiao Yunqing moved over and squatted in the spot where he had just been squatting.

She picked up a thin twig and carefully inserted it into the stove, her movements as gentle as if she were conducting a chemistry experiment, afraid of exploding the test tube.

The branch was placed over the flame, the fire licked at it, but it didn't ignite.

She stretched it further in, and the branch touched the embers and burst into flames with a "poof".

She was startled and tried to pull her hand back, but didn't.

He stared at the burning branch for two seconds, then slowly placed it aside.

The fire has been brought under control.

She breathed a sigh of relief, turned to look at Song Huan, her eyes shining, "Do I understand now?"

Song Huan nodded, "I understand."

Xiao Yunqing laughed, her eyes crinkling with laughter. The firelight reflected on her face, making the dark marks on her face even more noticeable.

Song Huan stood up, walked to the cutting board, took the pork belly that had just been washed, and cut it into pieces.

The knife rose and fell, the rhythmic thuds steady.

The pork belly is cut into pieces the size of mahjong tiles, with alternating layers of fat and lean meat, white and red, and arranged on a plate.

He then sliced ​​ginger, garlic cloves, and crushed a few dried chilies, placing them in a dish for later use.

The pan is heated, then oil is poured in. The oil melts in the pan, producing wisps of blue smoke.

"Add another piece of firewood." He said without turning his head.

Xiao Yunqing immediately picked up a thin twig and carefully stuffed it into the stove.

The fire was a little too strong, and the oil in the pan got even hotter.

Song Huan poured the pork belly in, and with a "sizzle," oil splattered everywhere.

He used a spatula to stir-fry the meat, which rolled around in the pan, its surface slowly turning white and its edges beginning to turn a golden brown.

The fat in the pork was rendered out, and more and more oil appeared at the bottom of the pot, releasing its aroma.

"Ginger and garlic," he said.

Xiao Yunqing took the ginger slices and garlic cloves from the plate and handed them over.

Song Huan took it, threw it into the pot, and stir-fried it a few more times.

The dried chili peppers were added, making the aroma even stronger, wafting from the kitchen into the yard.

Grandpa sat on a low stool in the yard, looking towards the kitchen in the distance.

The kitchen door was open, and smoke was billowing out. At first, it was black and thick, like there was a fire.

He lifted his buttocks several times, intending to go over and take a look, but then sat back down.

Grandma sat on the chair next to her, her feet resting on a low stool, holding a palm-leaf fan in her hand, fanning herself slowly.

"Just ignore them and let them play," she said.

Grandpa glanced at her. "Playing? Cooking is not something to play with. That stove is hard to burn, how could two kids understand it?"

"If you don't understand, you don't understand," Grandma said, fanning herself as if she could see right through her grandson's thoughts.

"It's rare for Huanhuan to bring someone back, so let him show off a bit."

Grandpa didn't say anything, but glanced at the kitchen again.

Soon, the smoke changed from black to gray, then from gray to white, rising faintly and wispyly from the chimney and dispersing into the blue sky.

He then settled down, took out a pipe, put it in his mouth, but didn't smoke it; he just held it there.

In the kitchen, Song Huan was adding water to a pot.

Cover the meat with water, cover the pot, and simmer over low heat.

"Keep the fire down," he said.

Xiao Yunqing squatted at the stove opening, reached inside, and pulled out a half-burnt piece of thick firewood.

The firewood rolled outside the stove, scattering a few sparks that were about to ignite the firewood next to it. Startled, she quickly stomped it out.

Then I took a thinner twig from the side and stuffed it in.

The fire gradually subsided, and the soup in the pot went from boiling to bubbling. The small flames licked the bottom of the pot, making a soft sound, like humming a song.

Song Huan leaned against the stove, watching her squatting there poking at the fire, and felt a little amused.

The dark marks on her face hadn't been wiped off yet, and the one on the tip of her nose had spread to her cheek, making it look like she had a beard.

Ash clung to her ponytail, and stray hairs clung to her forehead, curled slightly from the heat of the fire.

"Xiao Yunqing".

"Hmm?" She looked up.

"You have dust on your face."

She reached up and wiped her face, but in the wrong direction, wiping the ash from left to right.

Song Huan sighed, walked over, and squatted down.

I grabbed a damp cloth from beside the stove, pinched her chin, and gently wiped it.

Her face was so small that he could hold it in one hand.

Wiping it with a damp cloth removed the ash, revealing the underlying skin, which was white and slightly red from being heated by the fire.

She didn't dodge; she just squatted there, tilting her face up, letting him wipe her face.

Xiao Yunqing opened her eyes and looked at him. Her eyelashes were long, and her fair face looked even more delicate and lovely in the firelight.

Xiao Yunqing's heart was beating a little fast.

"Alright." Song Huan let go and threw the rag back onto the stove.

Xiao Yunqing lowered her head and continued to watch the fire.

But his ears turned red, probably from being heated by the fire.

After simmering for about half an hour, the broth in the pot thickened and clung to the meat pieces, making them glossy.

Song Huan poked it with her chopsticks; the meat was tender, and the chopsticks went in with just a light touch.

"Okay, put out the fire."

Xiao Yunqing took the firewood out of the stove and placed it on the pile of ashes next to him, covering it with ashes.

The fire went out, leaving only glowing embers in the stove, their dark red light resembling the clouds on the horizon at dusk.

Song Huan served the dish, a full plate of braised pork, a deep reddish-brown color, glistening with oil, and sprinkled with a few chopped green onions.

Xiao Yunqing stood to the side, looking at the plate of meat, and swallowed hard.

"Take it out."

She quickly reached out, picked up the plate, and ran towards the main room.

The plate was a little hot, and she held the edge with her fingers, walking quickly and steadily, as if she were carrying a precious treasure.

Song Huan shouted from behind, "There's a wet towel over there, can't you use it? You idiot, be careful not to burn yourself!"

But the person had already run away.

In the main room, Grandma sat in a chair, while Grandpa had just walked in from the yard.

Xiao Yunqing placed the plate on the table, turned around, and said with a smug look on her face, "Grandpa and Grandma, dinner's ready!"

Grandma glanced at the plate of braised pork, then at Xiao Yunqing's smeared face, and looked on incredulously.

"Wow, this meat looks really good."

Xiao Yunqing proudly puffed out her chest, "That's right, he's a great cook."

She only realized what she had said after she finished.

Grandma looked at her with a smile.

Grandpa looked at her, smiling but saying nothing.

Xiao Yunqing's face turned red starting from her neck and burning all the way to the tips of her ears.

She lowered her head, staring at the table, wishing she could bury her face in it.

Song Huan came out of the kitchen carrying two other dishes: a bowl of green vegetables and a bowl of egg drop soup.

He placed the dishes on the table, glanced at Xiao Yunqing who had her head down, then at his smiling grandmother, looking completely bewildered.

What's going on?

"Let's eat." He pulled out a chair and sat down.

Grandma greeted Xiao Yunqing, "Yunqing, sit down, don't stand."

Xiao Yunqing hummed in agreement and sat down next to Song Huan, her head still lowered.

Song Huan picked up a piece of braised pork and put it in her bowl. "Try it."

She looked down at the piece of meat in the bowl, picked it up, and took a bite.

After chewing a couple of times, his eyes lit up.

He took another bite, his cheeks bulging, and mumbled, "Delicious."

Grandma also picked up a piece, put it in her mouth, chewed it, and nodded. "Mmm, delicious. Better than your grandpa's."

Grandpa, standing to the side, protested, "I did just as well."

"You made it too salty," Grandma said bluntly.

Grandpa stopped talking and lowered his head to eat.

Xiao Yunqing chuckled softly beside her, then quickly suppressed it.

Grandma looked at her like that, then at Song Huan, and smiled meaningfully.

The meal took almost an hour.

The braised pork was eaten clean, and even the broth was eaten by Grandpa using steamed buns as a dip.

The vegetables were all gone, and only a little egg drop soup remained.

Xiao Yunqing ate two bowls of rice and was so full that she leaned back in her chair, not wanting to move.

After finishing her meal, Song Huan wanted to wash the dishes, but her grandmother stopped her, saying, "Leave them there and let your grandfather wash them."

Grandpa nodded beside him, "I'll wash, you guys rest."

Song Huan didn't argue, but she still had to do some chores for the old man, right?

Then he took Xiao Yunqing to the courtyard.

The pineapple tree in the yard has a large canopy, with lush branches and leaves that spread out like an umbrella.

There are two bamboo reclining chairs under the tree, which Grandpa usually uses for his afternoon nap.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shimmering spots of light on the ground.

Song Huan lay down, and the chair creaked.

The bamboo strips, warmed by the sun, felt very comfortable against my back.

Xiao Yunqing lay down on the chair next to her, moving very gently, as if afraid of breaking the chair.

"Is it comfortable?" he asked.

"Mmm," she said softly, her eyes closed, "It feels so good."

In a corner of the yard, a mother hen was leading a group of chicks, digging in the dirt.

The mother hen walked in front, followed by seven or eight chicks, fluffy and yellow, who looked like rolling balls of fluff when they ran.

A chick fell behind and chirped as it chased after the mother hen. The mother hen stopped and waited for a moment before continuing on its way.

In the distance are fields, where most of the rice has already been harvested, with only a few unharvested, golden stalks swaying in the wind.

Beyond the fields are mountains, green mountains, though they are short and not very tall, they rise in layers and extend into the distance.

Looking from a distance, it seems that the farthest layer is connected to the sky, making it impossible to distinguish where the mountain ends and the sky begins.

Although it's almost December, people in Jiangcheng, in the south, are still wearing short sleeves.

The sun was warm and gentle, not too strong, and felt just right on my skin.

The wind carries the scent of earth and rice straw, along with a hint of sweet jackfruit.

Xiao Yunqing lay on the chair, looking at the leaves above her head.

The leaves were dense, and sunlight filtered through the gaps, dancing on her face.

"Song Huan".

"Um?"

Did you play here every day when you were a child?

"More or less, I'll come back sometimes during summer vacation."

"Shall we go catch fish in the pond?"

Song Huan laughed. "You heard it from Grandma?"

"Hmm." She laughed too. "You really fell into the pond?"

"I fell in once. Damn, the mud on the edge of the pond is really slippery; you just slide right in."

"and then?"

"Then my grandfather pulled it out. To avoid being laughed at by my grandfather and the villagers, I had a bright idea and caught a fish. Later, when the villagers asked me, I said that I went into the river to catch fish, not that I fell into the river."

Xiao Yunqing burst out laughing, making the chair shake.

His childhood in the countryside was so much fun...