Food bloggers made fortunes in ancient times

Song Yan asked nervously, "How is Sister Xiang doing now? Has she seen a doctor?"

Ah Niu said in a deep voice: "I have seen a doctor and taken a dose of medicine. I am much better now."

"How was it resolved in the end?" Song Yan frowned.

We can't just let this matter go.

"How else can it be resolved?! The old hag just paid a few eggs as compensation, and even said that Ah Xiang is a member of the Li family, and it is not our turn to make decisions."

When Aunt Niu heard this, she was so angry that her heart ached.

She wiped her tears and said, "If we hadn't gone there today, we wouldn't have known how much Ah Xiang had suffered. If Ah Xiang continued to beg for a living at the hands of that old hag, I'm afraid she would torture her even more."

Uncle Niu advised: "If it really doesn't work, let's take Ah Xiang back."

Aniu suddenly turned around and left.

Aunt Niu hurriedly shouted: "Aniu, where are you going?!"

"I'm going to pick up my sister!"

Aunt Niu's face changed slightly, and she quickly dragged the man back and taught him a lesson: "If you really make trouble, your sister's life in the Li family will be even more difficult in the future."

Song Yan couldn't help but say, "If it really doesn't work, let's just live separately. As long as my brother-in-law is hardworking and capable, we can live a good life as a small family."

Aunt Niu obviously took his words to heart and murmured, "That's a solution."

It was getting late, so Aunt Niu and the others only exchanged a few words before remembering that they had not fed the pigs yet, and hurried back home. They had been away all day and had a lot of chores to do at home.

Song Yan was also preparing to go back to eat when she heard a faint voice: "Why can't you go pick up Sister Xiang?"

Song Yan turned her head and saw Song Wanzhou holding a bowl with the cat eavesdropping beside him.

Song Wanzhou asked with a puzzled look on her face: "Since Sister Xiang is not living well after her marriage, why can't we take her back?"

Faced with her question, Song Yan was speechless for a moment, not knowing how to answer.

Aunt Niu naturally felt sorry for Sister Xiang, but she knew in her heart that even if she brought her back to stay for a few days, she would eventually have to return to the Li family.

This would also strain the relationship with the Li family and make Sister Xiang's situation in her husband's family even more difficult.

But such words were not suitable to be said to Song Wanzhou, who was only ten years old.

Fortunately, Song Wanzhou didn't intend to investigate further. Seeing Song Yan's silence, she asked again: "Brother, if it were me, would you take me back?"

Song Yan said without hesitation: "Yes, as long as big brother is here, the Song family will always be your home."

Song Wanzhou finally smiled: "Big brother is still the best."

This little episode did not leave a deep impression on Song Yan's heart.

In the next few days, the Niu family continued to go out early and come back late. It was said that they went to Lijia Village to try to get Sister Xiang's mother-in-law to agree to divide the family.

The final result should be satisfactory.

Aunt Niu, who had been frowning for many days, finally smiled when she came back yesterday.

After a few days, the foundation of Song Yan's new house had been laid and the walls had been built.

By the end of September, the cotton balls in full bloom in the yard looked like light clouds, soft and fluffy.

Originally, Song Yan hadn’t thought about closing it so early.

When Shitou and the others came over, they saw cotton balls blooming in the yard and asked what they were.

Song Yan explained that it was a kind of flower from the south and reminded them not to touch it.

At that time they all agreed readily.

But within two days, someone wanted to pick one, but Gousheng found him and barked at him a few times. The man was afraid of attracting Song Yan's attention, so he withdrew his hand in disappointment.

Song Yan learned about this from Shi Tou after work last night.

Song Yan was so angry that he laughed. During this period of time, he almost treated Cotton like his own father. He never thought that it was almost ruined.

This incident also reminded Song Yan that it was time to harvest the cotton.

There have been a lot of people coming and going in his house recently, and you never know for sure if someone will be so careless as to pick his cotton.

That day, after cleaning the sheep pen, Song Yan picked up the cloth bag and went to harvest cotton.

Carefully stepping into the flower bed, Song Yan bent down to take a look, only to see that the cotton leaves had turned yellow and all the cotton bolls had bloomed. It was probably time to harvest.

Song Yan stretched out her hand and pinched a cotton ball on the cotton boll. She pulled it gently and the cotton was stretched long and flexible like a thin thread.

Spread a white fluffy ball on the palm of your hand, wrap it tightly with your fist, and then spread it out, and the cotton will quickly swell up.

Song Yan became addicted to the game and would pinch every cotton flower he plucked.

He picked and counted as he went along, and there were seven or eight such bolls hanging on each cotton plant.

There were only five cotton plants in total, and if you took your time, you could pick them all in just a quarter of an hour.

Finally, he picked up the cloth bag and weighed it. The total weight of the cotton he picked was less than half a pound.

Song Yan still couldn't believe it. They had all been picked. Was this all there was?

Song Yan poured the cotton into a winnowing basket, took out the seeds inside, weighed it again, and found that it was a little lighter.

Song Yan took a breath of cold air.

I thought I could make a cotton jacket, but in the end I could only make a pair of cotton gloves.

The beautiful fantasy of the family wearing cotton-padded clothes was shattered, and it would be a lie for Song Yan to say that she was not disappointed.

But fortunately, we harvested a lot of cotton seeds, so we will probably be able to wear cotton-padded jackets next year.

Song Yan stared at the pile of cotton in front of her in a daze. How could she make cotton gloves?

Directly into the gloves?

No, no, he remembered that the cotton had to be blown open before it could be used.

With her powerful memory, Song Yan finally remembered the scenes of cotton-flicking in certain movies and TV shows.

It is to carry a big bow and play with cotton.

But there is no such big bow at home.

By the way, the last time I went into the mountains with Shu Changyu, I found the broken bow left by Song’s father in the cabin.

A broken bow is one in which the bow attachment is broken, but the bowstring made of cow tendon rope is still in good condition and can be used again after some repairs.

Song Yan immediately took out the broken bow and temporarily attached the broken bow back with a straw rope. He pulled the bowstring again and heard a "buzzing" sound.

Great, it seems to work.

"Brother, what are you doing with the bow?" Song Wanzhou walked in and saw Song Yan holding the bow. She suddenly looked alert and asked, "Are you going into the mountains again?"

Song Yan cleared his throat and said, "Fluffing cotton."

After saying this, Song Yan felt sorry for the bow. His father used it for hunting, but he used it to pick cotton.

"Fluffing cotton?" Song Wanzhou didn't know what fluffing cotton was. She picked up Yaya, who was playing with puppets at the door, and followed Song Yan, wanting to see what he was doing.

Song Yan found a broken toothbrush, plucked the bowstring, and found that it fit the bill perfectly.

So he pulled the bowstring and started shooting at balls of cotton.

"Buzz buzz-"

The boring and tedious repetitive actions of pulling the string and plucking the cotton.

After watching for a quarter of an hour, Song Wanzhou felt sleepy and started yawning with his hands covering his mouth.

She quickly patted her face to sober herself up: "I'm going to bring water to Brother Shitou and the others, brother, you keep an eye on Yaya."

Half an hour later, Song Yan put down the bow and rubbed his wrists. It was too tiring to fluff cotton.

Looking at the winnowing basket again, the fluffed cotton became fluffy and soft, like a big ball of white fluff.

Huh?

I didn't expect that so much cotton would pop out, enough to make a little cotton jacket for Yaya.

"Making a cotton-padded jacket?" Song Wanzhou touched the soft cotton and rubbed his little face against it. It was soft and warm.

Her eyes lit up slightly: "Brother, is this cotton? It's so soft."

If it is made into a cotton-padded jacket, it must be very warm.

"I'll make a small cotton-padded jacket for Yaya this time," Song Yan said with a smile, "I'll try my best to make sure that next year, our whole family can wear cotton-padded jackets for the winter."