[Titanic] Rose is not shredded pork

A week later, Roof was going to visit friends in London, and Rose was ill without hesitation.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Rose spent the morning and afternoon of the next day in a pre-meeting trance.

Thinking of the night ahead and the barbecue, I felt a tinge of uneasy excitement, almost like... like elopement.

She laughed at herself, and under the pressure of the tights, she tried her best to take a few deep breaths to calm down.

It's been a long time since such an interesting thing happened, and it's been a long time since I met such a lovely person.

She still had no expression on her face and didn't talk much, she was afraid of revealing a mischievous cheerfulness when she opened her mouth.

The scorching sun gradually subsided, and Rose rode a horse for a while to relieve her mood.

The driveway of Rose Manor is wide and winding, paved with white gravel, with flat lawns and rose trees alternately distributed on both sides.The driveway casts the lazy and flickering warm glow of the afternoon, wild roses in full bloom, fragrant and sensual, like unkempt sluts seducing men in bars.The large groups of cedar, birch and beech trees beside the road, as well as many species of trees that she couldn't name, were like staunch knights, unmoved by the temptation of roses.

There is the sound of the waves in my ears, I don't know if it is the high tide or the low tide.Behind the house is a valley full of flowers, which isolates the waves from crashing on the shore, but the sound of the rumbling waves crosses the sea of ​​flowers, stubbornly invades the ears, and stirs up echoes.

Her heart surged accordingly.

At last the long sleepy afternoon of eyelid intimacy was over, dusk was coming late, the western sky was magnificent and bright, and the first stars were beginning to blink.

After dinner, Rose went back to her room.Rose stood for a moment in front of the black-framed full-length mirror, taking off her tiara, necklace and earrings, gloves, tights and high-heeled shoes.

She put on a loose and convenient blue and white striped sailor shirt designed with Coco half a month ago, a men's black coat over it, a pair of bloomers, and sturdy little boots.

She looked at the mirror for a moment, then picked up the scissors and trimmed her temples and bangs without hesitation, dropped the comb and scissors, and the graceful steps of a lady, and galloped like a woman who sprinted [-] meters in her previous life go downstairs.

Extremely happy for no reason.

Rose felt like a pot of boiling hot milk, bubbling with happiness from the bottom of her heart.

If it doesn't cool down, it will be poured out of the pot.

Crossing the path, Rose saw Jack.He sat on a huge slippery rock and threaded worms on his hooks.

The boy is very young, and the doll's face is full of concentration and seriousness, giving Rose the illusion that an old cow is eating young grass for no reason.

"You came so fast." His blue eyes were like a night sky full of stars.

"Without jewelry and dresses, there would be no dawdling."

Jack stretched out his hand: "Be careful, step up on the sunken place, don't slip." His soft blond hair was wet, "Look, life becomes so pure after things like jewelry are thrown away and simple."

His manner of speaking was much more mature than his childish appearance, but there was no sense of incongruity.

"I was a good tree climber when I was young." Rose almost jumped onto the reef. She stood firmly, picked up an earthworm, and asked curiously, "How do you put it on the hook?"

"I thought the British nobles were good at fishing." Jack put his hands in his pockets, refusing to help.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Jack! Only men do this kind of thing. Women don't soak in cold water with water shoes on." She sat down conveniently in her knickerbockers and no skirt.She stared intently at the earthworm and hook in her hand. The earthworm twisted and twisted, causing her hand to be pricked by the fishhook.

Rose cursed in a low voice, looked up and found that Jack was laughing at her.

"Girls are pretty useless for this sort of thing, aren't they?" Rose looked at him angrily.

"Useless? Absolutely not! I just admire that the noble lady can say the word 'shit' without hindrance."

Rose raised her chin provocatively: "I can speak more words, if you don't help me dress the earthworm well."

The sea is clear and rippling, the tide surges up and then retreats, the twilight spreads up but does not retreat, and the surrounding is quiet and silent.

While throwing the fishing line out, Jack threw out the fishing rod vigorously.His hands are graceful and steady, and the fishing rod does not move at all.

After everything was done, Jack opened the folder, sharpened the charcoal pencil and began to draw.

"Drawing seems more attractive than me, doesn't it?"

"I promised you to draw another portrait of you."

Rose fell silent.She thought Jack would make fun of herself, but he didn't say anything, just concentrated on drawing, and looked at her from time to time.

The two sat side by side, silent.At this moment, this rare tranquility comforted her and her restless heart.Rose felt that she was bewitched, a kind of magical power awakened the echo in her heart, stirring in her heart.

The sunset in the sky is like a brocade, and the water surface is shining with golden light.

Breaking in she found Jack put down his paintbrush and raised his fishing rod.Rose yelled, "The fish is hooked, isn't it?"

"It's a fat fish, Rose."

The fish writhed and jumped, splashing water and mud on her hands, arms, clothes and cheeks, but she didn't care.

"Are you hungry?" Jack's voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of disturbing the happy atmosphere between the two.

"Of course." Rose replied in a low voice, her voice was vague.

"Then I will play the characteristics of 'good family man'." He took the fish and jumped off the rock.Then he put the fish in the bucket and opened his arms to Rose as if to hug her.

She was completely stunned.

"Jump down, Rose, I'll follow you."

The last swipe of sunset glow dissipated in the sky, and the sky showed the color of duck egg blue, dim, mysterious and soft, but the color of the water became deeper and deeper.The damp smell of moss lingers in the air, the aroma of young grasses, and the unique slightly fishy fresh smell of sea water.

The two walked outside the wooden house, and Jack went back to the house and took a small knife, scraped the scales, cut open the belly, and cleaned up.

Rose found that there was not much firewood, so she went to the hut to get some dry wood, and broke it on her thigh.She sat down cross-legged, letting her coat and trousers be dirty and wrinkled, and her hair disheveled, covered with grass blades and muddy water.She plucked her hair carelessly, and let them be disobedient.

"Do I look like a wandering gypsy now?" Rose couldn't help laughing.

"Very similar." Jack turned his head and stared at her as if appreciating a famous work, "Esmeralda can't be more beautiful than you."

The heart rate seemed to change, which Rose put down to hunger.She piled up the branches and Jack struck a match, and there was a feeble flame in the pile, and then the flame grew brighter and crackled.

Jack and Rose smiled at each other across the flames and the air that was deformed by the heat of the flames.

After a few minutes, the fish skin starts to get browned.Jack wiped his knife and turned the fish over.The twilight is getting darker and thicker, and the last ray of light in the sky also disappears invisible.

Rose looked at his calm and beautiful hands busy with the grilled fish, and then shifted her gaze to the American baby face.His expression was focused, his brows were slightly frowned, and the firelight painted a blush on his smooth face.

The smell of the fish began to waft away, Jack raised his head, smiled at the girl, said nothing, and turned the fish over again.

"Is it almost there? My chest is already attached to my back."

"I didn't expect Miss Rose Bucket to have the attributes of a cat." He picked the fish to the plate, and the fish squeaked and steamed.He cut the fish in half, moved the half without the bone to Rose's side, and began to eat the fish with his fingers.

"Ah!" Rose exclaimed, almost knocking over the plate.

Jack quickly supported her: "What supernatural event happened?"

Rose stuck out her tongue and said inarticulately, "...it's hot...it's burning my tongue..."

Jack couldn't help but ran back to the hut quickly, and came back with a bottle of wine in a blink of an eye.

"I won't steal your fish, Rose." He watched her gulp down the wine, and joked, "If you knock over the plate, our dinner will be ruined."

Rose said vaguely: "It's okay, I will pick up the fish and continue to eat it, including your share."

"You're surprising me more and more, Rose," Jack whispered.

The two people looked at each other through the ashes, and the moment their eyes met, it was like tongues of flame leaping out of the ashes again.

The branches in the campfire collapsed, and the flames lowered and lowered, revealing white ash.

"How's the food?" Jack poked the fire.

"It seems to be more hungry."

Jack shrugged helplessly: "Thank God, I'm still prepared."

The two walked into the cabin, and Jack brought out two baskets from under the table like a conjurer—one of which contained fresh strawberries and grapes, and the other contained live crabs.

"Which basket do you want to eat?"

"Can I choose both?" She swallowed.

"Oh my God, you're so greedy, Rose!" Jack shook his head helplessly, his face full of "I can't do anything with you".

Rose's eyebrows raised involuntarily. "I'm not greedy, sir, I'm just greedy." She lowered her voice and said excitedly, "Do you want to eat crabs in another way?"

She poured the crabs into the pot, added a little water, and commanded: "Give me the salt."

Jack obediently handed over the salt.

The salt seems to be too coarse for cooking, but it's totally fine for cooking crabs.

When she traveled to coastal cities in her previous life, she never forgot the authentic seafood method: half pot steamed, or half pot boiled.Of course, these two kinds of cooking are limited to scallops, sea rainbows, shrimps and crabs, and various snails and conchs, not suitable for fish.

The crab quickly turned red, and the delicious smell could not be stopped, tempting the nasal mucosa, the taste buds on the surface of the tongue, and every nerve fiber.

She peeled off the crab's shell and said triumphantly to Jack, "How is it?"

"Excluding the interference of all seasonings and seasonings, I seem to taste the taste of the sea from crab roe and crab meat." Jack said shaking his head.

Although there is no ginger vinegar, this dinner is perfect enough.

"It's so monotonous... No, it's so simple." Jack joked while feasting. "Is there some factor in the British climate that makes the British generally lack emotion and imagination?"

"Maybe you're right. The climate in England is always so gloomy, with so few sunny days in summer, and rainy winters, which make people's knees sore, and their feelings and imagination are soaked and deformed by the rain." Rose Break off a crab claw, pile all the crab meat into the crab shell, and pour it into the mouth in one breath, "but not including the emotion and imagination in eating."

She stared at a large pile of crab shells and broken limbs with a smirk, smacked her lips and said, "I'm not full yet."

"You really want me to eat nothing." Jack raised his forehead.

"My appetite is directly proportional to my mood. If you close your mouth as small as an eyedrop bottle, you will fail to live up to the moonlight tonight."

Jack pressed Rose's hand: "How about learning how to cook with me?"

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