Life in a quiet village in Xianshan

Gu Siwei was walking on the road of Zhuangzi with his oily mud. It was lunch time at this moment. Although the fruits in the orchard had not been completely picked, it was no longer like before, everyone was too busy to touch the ground. , now everyone has time to prepare three meals for themselves and their families.

Why doesn't Gu Siwei go home for dinner at this moment? Is he too busy? No, this is not the first batch of money that has been put down. Every family and every house is happy to receive the money.

In Gu Siwei's view, now that every family has made money, the food at home should naturally be improved, and the clothes with patches piled on top of each other on adults and children should be eliminated.

Gu Siwei wandered around Zhuangzi just to satisfy his vanity. He wanted to see that every bowl was filled with white rice, and the rice should be covered with at least some vegetables where you could see shredded pork.

Because this can make Gu Siwei feel that all his efforts are fruitful. I don’t know when it started. Gu Siwei’s mentality changed from living a good life by himself to everyone’s life getting better. Even Gu Siwei I don’t even know when this kind of lofty mentality of common prosperity took root in my heart.

As a result, after visiting several restaurants in a row, the smile on Gu Siwei's face became less and less, because Gu Siwei discovered that the bowls of the villagers still had the same old three: stick noodle porridge, dried sweet potatoes with vegetables.

It’s not that there is no progress, there is progress. The progress is that the original thin porridge, which mainly consisted of dried sweet potatoes and vegetables, has been changed to mainly eating stick noodles.

Although the stick noodle porridge in the bowl is impossible to hold up with chopsticks, there is no water color when you scoop it up, and it is thick and thick.

Some families even put a few stick noodle pancakes on the side of the pot at noon. During the meal, each person would hold one in his hand while sitting or standing, and while eating, he would chat with his neighbors. Chatting.

"Siwei, have you eaten? If not, can you eat some at our house?"

Second Aunt Guo saw Gu Siwei appearing alone with his dog behind his back, so she smiled and said hello.

When Gu Siwei heard this, he raised his head and smiled at Aunt Guo: "Auntie, what do you have for lunch?"

Aunt Guo was holding the bowl now. When she heard Gu Siwei ask, she tilted the bowl so that Gu Siwei could see the contents of her bowl clearly.

Seeing what was in Aunt Guo's bowl, Gu Siwei's face improved a little, because what Aunt Guo had in her bowl was rice porridge, very thick rice porridge, and the rice was not very good, it was obviously the worst type of japonica rice. Moreover, it is not produced in the village. In all likelihood, it is rice produced in the village and exchanged for inferior rice from outsiders.

Gu Siwei knew this market situation. One pound of rice from his village could be exchanged for one pound or three taels of rice. But even so, villagers rarely exchange good rice for bad rice. Generally speaking, they replace it with stick noodles, or that kind of buckwheat noodles, or simply sorghum noodles.

To put it simply, it is whole grains. This stuff was quite valuable when Gu Siwei came here. He relied on his health to make a turnaround in terms of price.

But in this era, all coarse grains are inferior to refined grains such as wheat and rice, so the price is relatively low, and it is a grain that ordinary people like very much.

Even if the family often eats whole grains, it is still considered a middle-class family in this era. It may not be the case in the city, but in the vast rural areas, the family has food for every meal. As long as it is not corn noodles with sweet potatoes, the life of the family is definitely good. .

"Auntie, what kind of porridge should we eat at noon? Wouldn't it be better to cook a bowl of white rice?" Gu Siwei asked.

Aunt Guo smiled and said, "Which one of us in our family is destined to eat white rice?"

The second aunt herself said that she looked back at her yard. There were seven or eight members of her family squatting in the yard. They were holding bowls in their hands after eating, and they were looking at each other with chopsticks in the hands holding the bowls. Gu Siwei is in a silly mood.

Those who haven't finished eating have no time to look at Gu Siwei, and all their attention is on the bowl in their hands.

"What do you mean? Everyone is making money now, but you have to improve your life. Even if you don't pay attention, you have to think about the children. Now the children are growing up. You Look at each one of them as thin as a chicken..." Gu Siwei said.

Second Aunt Guo didn't tell the difference. After hearing Gu Siwei's words, she just smiled.

When Gu Siwei saw it, it didn't make sense, so he chatted a few more words, picked up his feet and continued walking forward.

Just when Gu Siwei left Aunt Guo's house, Second Aunt Guo glanced at Gu Siwei's back twice and whispered: How can we compare with your family? We are farmers!

Fortunately, Gu Siwei didn't hear this sentence. If he had, he might have scolded his second aunt with a straight face: What's wrong with the farmers? Do they deserve to suffer and be poor?

Gu Siwei continued to walk forward and passed a few more houses. Everyone's lunch still didn't change much. A bowl of thick stick noodle porridge can go with everything.

Wandering around, Gu Siwei lost his good mood and turned around to go to Yang Chuanwu's house.

Arriving at the door of Yang Chuanwu's house, Gu Siwei found that Yang Chuanwu's family was also eating.

There was a small square table in the courtyard, where Yang Chuanwu, his wife and children sat with his parents at home.

"Siwei is here, sit down, have you eaten? Sihong, go get your uncle Siwei a bowl and chopsticks..."

Seeing Gu Siwei enter the yard, Yang Chuanwu's father, Yang Xingjia, immediately asked his grandson Yang Shanhong to get a bowl and chopsticks for Gu Siwei.

Gu Siwei said: "No, no, I've already eaten."

Seeing the things on the table of Yang Chuanwu's family, Gu Siwei felt a little relieved, because there was a pile of white-faced steamed buns on the small table of Yang Chuanwu's family. The serious white-faced steamed buns were not made in the village some time ago. The kind of steamed buns mixed with grains.

"Eating steamed buns?"

Gu Siwei asked.

At this time, Yang Shanhong carried a bench to Gu Siwei. Gu Siwei reached out to take it and sat down almost two meters away from the table.

"Yeah, white steamed buns just made at home."

Liu Kailan said, took a steamed bun from the small bamboo basket on the table and handed it to Gu Siwei.

Gu Siwei asked: "Do you have enough to eat? Don't starve others."

Gu Siwei really wants to taste what steamed buns taste like. Don't get me wrong, how could Gu Siwei never eat steamed buns? He just wants to taste what the steamed buns that Yang Chuanwu's family usually eats now taste like.

Yang Chuanwu laughed and said, "You can just eat. There is a basket in the house. I steamed it for two days in the morning. One more for you is not more, and one for you is less."

Gu Siwei then took it and took a look at it in his hand. The facial hair was of average quality. Although the steamed buns were a little cold now, they did not become hard, which proved that they were not too long when steamed.

The steamed buns are a bit hard, which proves that the hair is not very good. If it were Gu Siwei, the steamed buns would have sunk in as soon as they were pinched. After a while, the pressed area would have returned to its original shape at least eight or nine times after releasing it. become.

But the steamed buns in my hand are not like this.

It’s not surprising. Even the Yang Chuanwu family may not eat this kind of white flour a few times a year. Let alone it has developed, even if it turns into hard lumps, for today’s folks, that’s it. It is also a first-class delicious food.

Gently tear off a little bit from the steamed bun and put it in his mouth. Gu Siwei also observed the torn off piece. The white noodles, although the quality of the noodles was average, was not as white as what Gu Siwei's family eats. The noodles are white, but they are indeed white noodles and not mixed with anything.

As for why it is such a color, it is because the surface of the grains is not completely removed during the machine processing. Everyone has seen the color of wheat after it is shelled, right? It is not pure white flour, but often has a little bit of the color of the outside of the chaff. It is also edible. After decades, it may still be used to promote health.

But this kind of flour is definitely not as delicious as pure white flour.

Nowadays, the market is divided into 80 flour or 70 flour. The so-called 80 refers to the flour rate, which is almost one hundred pounds of wheat. How much flour is produced? 80 pounds of flour is produced. Twenty pounds of bran is 80 flour. The wheat flour is produced. 60 pounds of flour, forty bran is 60 pounds of flour.

The lower the flour extraction rate, the more times it is ground, the finer the flour, and the whiter the flour. Of course, if there is any wheat core powder in the future, it will be better. It can be said that the essence of wheat has been taken out by profiteers and sold at high prices.

For example, the flour used by Yang Chuanwu's family is almost 80 cents, and the flour used by Zhuangzi to greet the fruit pickers is hard to say. One hundred catties of wheat may produce more than ninety catties of flour. .

"How about it?"

"It tastes good." After Gu Siwei took a bite, he smiled at Liu Kailan who asked.

When Yang Chuanwu saw it, he said to his wife: "You think Siwei is us. It would be strange if he can only eat steamed buns. Isn't there some fried pickled vegetables at home? Go and pick some out!"

Yang Chuanwu knew that Gu Siwei had nothing to eat with steamed buns, so he would definitely not be able to eat them, so he asked his wife Liu Kailan to bring out the freshly fried pickles at home and let Gu Siwei eat them with the steamed buns.

Gu Siwei was not polite here. Waiting for Liu Kailan to bring the pickles, he opened the steamed bun in his hand, sandwiched the pickles in the middle, held it in his hand, and turned it into a burger, then put it in his mouth. Li started eating in big mouthfuls.

"Tell me, if you are not resting at home at this time, why are you wandering around the village?"

Yang Chuanwu knew Gu Siwei well. When he saw him eating his own steamed buns and thinking about it, he knew that Gu Siwei must have some ideas. Otherwise, he was someone who had never eaten steamed buns. Let's put it this way. The oily mud that followed Gu Siwei came in, even though it was a dog. Except for Gu Siwei's family, no one else in Zhuangzi could compare to the oily mud.

Even Yang Chuanwu's family can't compare to the food of Youni.

Yang Chuanwu understood that Gu Siwei's family ate well and had meat every meal, so the family dogs naturally ate accordingly.

At this time, Yang Chuanwu had never heard of canned dogs or dog food. He had never even thought about it. There were canned food specially for dogs in this world. Dogs just followed people to eat. They would eat whatever was left by people.