[Marriage first, love later] She is happy after marrying a widower

If we want to go into the mountains, it will definitely take a day. If we can't come back at noon, the adults can go hungry, but the children can't.

After dinner, Song Yanzhi lit the tung oil lamp again and started working in the kitchen.

She planned to make some pancakes and fry some sugared chestnuts to take up the mountain to eat tomorrow.

There is still food for Sanwa. I will boil a bag of goat milk for him tomorrow morning and put it in a cowhide bag. I am afraid it is not enough for a day's food.

She prepared to fry some rice and chestnuts, grind them into powder, and when the child was hungry, she would give the child a bowl of thinly sliced ​​rice or chestnut powder.

After Han Heming washed and dressed his three children and coaxed them to bed, he saw that the kitchen light was still on, so he walked towards the kitchen.

"Why are you still busy?"

He stood at the kitchen door, looking at the woman kneading dough under the dim light. She had willow-shaped eyebrows, almond-shaped eyes and an oval face. She was very pretty, and her figure was more voluptuous than when she first came.

"Make some food for tomorrow's trip into the mountains. Help me light the fire."

Han Heming raised his eyebrows and walked to the stove and sat down. When he went into the mountains before, this little woman never prepared dry food for him. He always thought she couldn't cook and never mentioned it. It turned out that this little woman could make dry food.

"Turn down the heat. I want to fry rice and chestnuts."

Song Yanzhi had boiled the chestnuts in water and peeled them, and she had also soaked the rice in water.

Rice cooks quickly. She puts the soaked rice in a large iron pot without adding oil or salt, and stir-fries it continuously until the rice turns brown.

She scooped up the rice, put it into a small stone mill, and ground it into rice flour later.

After the rice is fried, you can fry the chestnuts. She has boiled the chestnuts and ground them into chestnut powder. Put the chestnut powder into the pot and stir-fry it continuously until the moisture in the chestnut powder is dried.

"What are you doing all this for?"

Han Heming didn't understand. He had never seen anyone make dry food. It was made into flour. Don't people make it into dry biscuits and take them into the mountains?

"These fried rice noodles and chestnut noodles can be mixed with a little sugar and then mixed with hot water to make a bowl of paste for the children to eat. Not only the eldest and second children can eat it, but also the third child.

Sanwa only brought him goat milk, and I was afraid it wouldn't be enough, so I came up with this idea."

The stove fire flickered, and the eyes of the man who was burning the fire also flickered. He looked at the back of the busy woman. Is this woman really Sister Yanzhi?

The food she cooks, the methods she uses, the knowledge and wisdom she possesses are not what a country girl who grew up in Hongya Town should have.

"who are you?"

His voice was low, like a whisper, but it startled Song Yanzhi. Did Han Heming discover that she was not the real Song Yanzhi?

How should she answer him?

If she told the truth that she was a descendant from later generations, would she be mistaken for a ghost and burned to death?

He didn't tell the truth and just endured it. In Song Yanzhi's memory, there were very few things about Han Heming, which showed that they didn't spend much time together on weekdays.

So can she get away with it?

She couldn't completely trust Han Heming now and couldn't tell him everything.

"What did you say?"

Song Yanzhi pretended not to hear Han Heming's question clearly.

"What shall we eat?"

Han Heming didn't ask the previous question again and changed the subject.

"How about scallion pancakes? I'll make some extra. We can heat up a few and eat them tomorrow morning. We can take the rest back to the mountain. I also made some chili sauce. I'll bring a can of it tomorrow to eat with the pancakes."

Song Yanzhi put the ground rice flour and chestnut flour into a small ceramic jar, and the dough she had just kneaded had also risen.

She rolled the dough into pancakes of appropriate sizes, put soybean oil in a large iron pot, heated the soybean oil, put the pancakes into the pot, and turned them over, and the pancakes were cooked.

Han Heming was a big eater, so she made more than 30 fried cakes in one breath before she stopped.

The next morning, before daybreak, Song Yanzhi got up and cooked some sweet potato and grits porridge. Her family had no sweet potatoes or rice this year, so Su sent some to her for him to try.

He cooked the porridge and heated up a dozen or so of it. He also made the fried cakes from last night, steamed two bowls of egg custard for the children, put them on a plate, and added some pickled cucumbers. Breakfast was ready.

Today, not only Song Yanzhi got up early, but the children also got up early. When he prepared the meal, the children had already washed their faces and ran to the kitchen to help him serve the dishes and get the bowls.

There was only Sanwa at home, and he hadn't woken up yet. He planned to boil goat milk for Sanwa after dinner, wake the child up and feed him well. He put the remaining goat milk in a cowhide bag and took it to the mountain to feed the child when he was hungry.

Outside the mountain next to the Han family's house, many villagers often go up the mountain to collect firewood, pick wild vegetables, and pick mushrooms. Song Yanzhi followed Han Heming, carrying a bamboo basket and holding her two children, and she felt that this mountain was very ordinary.

After walking along the mountain road for another half an hour, Song Yanzhi noticed the difference between the deep mountains and the outer areas. The shade of the trees became denser and the trees became much thicker. There were many more thorns and dead leaves underfoot, and the mountain road became rugged and difficult to walk on.

"Have you reached the mountains this time?"

The dense forests all around and the only sound was the birdsong, which made Song Yanzhi unconsciously tighten her grip on the two children's hands. This scene was very similar to the corpse dumping scenes she had seen on TV in her previous life. If someone was killed here, no one would see it.

"Almost there, but we still have to walk inside for another quarter of an hour to pick chestnuts."

Han Heming's voice rang out in the forest, and Song Yanzhi felt less scared.

She calmed down and looked behind Han Heming.

After walking for half a minute, we saw a dozen large chestnut trees. The trees were full of chestnuts, and there were many fully grown chestnuts falling under the trees.

In addition to chestnuts, there are many small mushrooms under the dead leaves. Song Yanzhi saw and recognized five or six kinds.

The third child was not asleep. He was held in Han Heming's arms, his big eyes rolling around with curiosity. Han Heming put him in the carrier prepared for him, and the little guy didn't cry.

"Big Boy, Second Boy, would you please sit here and watch over your brother?"

Sanwa was not asleep, and we couldn’t put him in the backpack, for fear that he would cry because he couldn’t see anyone in the backpack.

The eldest and second child walked for nearly an hour, and when they arrived at the destination, the two children collapsed on the ground. Climbing the mountain was really tiring.

Song Yanzhi took out the candied chestnuts she had fried last night from her backpack and asked the two children to eat them. The soft, sweet and fragrant chestnuts attracted the attention of the two children as soon as they were taken out.

The two children responded to Han Heming casually: "Okay"

Then he turned his head and asked Song Yanzhi, "Mother, these chestnuts are so fragrant and sweet. Are they for us?"

"Of course it's for you. You two sit here and eat the chestnuts. Look after your brother and don't feed him any chestnuts!"

After Song Yanzhi finished instructing the children, she took a bamboo basket and searched for mushrooms under the dead yellow leaves.

Just now, when she saw the mushrooms here, she became less enthusiastic about picking chestnuts. Compared with picking chestnuts, she preferred picking mushrooms.

"What are you picking this for? It's poisonous."

Han Heming saw Song Yanzhi picking wood ear mushrooms from a dead tree, and he hurriedly stopped her.