Recently 234 (2)

by dufuren93 on 2010-05-12 00:34:18

Originally, I didn't want to write a serialized story; I planned to finish it all in one go. However, circumstances that day were special. I was risking staying up late into the night, fearing I wouldn’t be able to get up the next morning, and during this rare free time, I hastily wrote down the "one" in parts two, three, and four, which turned out to be quite off-topic. So today, I decided to revisit it, using practical actions to knock on the door of "the nest" S’s expectations for my diary.

I ask for your understanding. Again, I’ve started with an irrelevant beginning. I know Xiao Ye hopes I’ll quickly get to the point, without suspense, hoping I soon write about the farthest situations, especially the embarrassing moments — those are the highlights!

Alright, let's open the door and see what's inside, but here comes the sequel (part two):

Picking up where we left off at the end of part one, many of the vegetables I had worked hard to buy had gone bad, leaving me in a foul mood. To prevent the rest from rotting completely, on that weekend afternoon, I embarked on a rather unconventional cooking experience. My first goal was to stir-fry these two shriveled little pumpkins. Despite it being my first attempt at cooking, I felt relatively skilled. The slices came out decently enough, though I wasn’t too concerned whether they were strips or chunks since everything would be eaten anyway, so appearance wasn’t critical. Just stir-frying the vegetables wasn’t satisfying enough, so I also chopped up a large sausage, slicing it thinly (unfortunately, I hadn’t bought any meat), intending to stir-fry the sausage with pumpkin. Everything was ready, and I began heating the oil. How much should I add? No one was there to guide me, so I just winged it... Once the oil was hot, I threw in the sausage and pumpkin slices and started frying. Seeing the oil level seemed fine, I felt happy. But as I continued frying, the oil kept increasing because the pumpkin released its moisture, eventually turning into a dish of oil-soaked pumpkin and sausage slices.

With no other options, I decided to fry some eggs to "control the oil." Surprisingly, it actually tasted okay, even if it looked ugly. But I felt the nutrition was still adequate.

This was my first successful stir-fry, and I proudly announced it, inviting Sasha and Mangge to come over and try my culinary skills. That week, they accepted the invitation, albeit with some skepticism. I warmly welcomed them, deciding to cook fish for them, specifically the kind served in a soup pot filled with various ingredients. So, starting at 4 PM, I began preparations. Potatoes, celery, lotus root, pickled cabbage, sausages, and other things (which I temporarily forgot) all needed to be sliced.

If I were to continue narrating every detail, I’d probably put myself to sleep. So let's focus on the key point: the knife used for cutting vegetables was a fruit knife—small, not heavy, making it difficult to use with force. When cutting the lotus root, an unexpected accident occurred. The lotus root had been frozen (since there was no space in the fridge's preservation layer, I froze it). Afraid of running out of time, I took it out, washed it briefly, and began cutting (without peeling it, using a small scraper). On average, it took about two seconds plus a lot of force to cut through a piece of lotus root successfully. As I went further, I encouraged myself, thinking victory was near. With more force, slice by slice, suddenly—it didn’t cut! More force! Success!!

Joy! Pride!!

Applause and flowers came later, allowing me to finish the story. After putting the cut lotus root pieces into a bowl and washing the cutting board, I noticed two tiny, curved, red xyz on the board, but I didn’t examine them closely. After washing my hands, I suddenly felt something sharp under my right thumbnail. Looking, Oh my lady gaga! Part of both the outer and inner nails on my right hand had been cut! It had happened earlier on the cutting board... Luckily, no flesh was cut, so I could continue preparing, although I was quite scared when I thought about it later. This incident teaches us that keeping long nails is indeed disadvantageous!!!

The educational significance of this incident has been conveyed, so continuing the narrative doesn’t make much sense. Supported by my extensive cooking practice—"too much salt, Sichuan pepper like doing, cut into pieces, thickness normal..."—I still managed to prepare a sumptuous dinner. Sasha and Mangge finished their meals, not because I forced them. Honestly, their support gave me immense satisfaction, so much so that I couldn’t be bothered to remember how I got the one-centimeter-long bloody scratch on my left wrist...

---

By May, the weather gradually warmed up, fluctuating between warm and cold, almost unbearable. In such a backdrop, the following Tuesday afternoon, I bravely chose to walk home, aiming to give myself some exercise after a full day in the office. The scorching sun refused to set even after 6 PM, relentlessly tormenting me, this nearly dried-up sapling (I didn’t consider myself a flower, hence this metaphor). A half-hour walk was extremely tough, and I lacked any effective sun protection (I don’t know where the courage to choose walking came from).

Finally, when I was nearing the entrance of Nongjiao Academy, I thought I saw the hope of the sun setting! (That metaphor might sound a bit odd.) So happy, so excited!!! Just as I looked ahead, I saw a face as pitiful as mine, drenched in sweat, looking wilted and somewhat twisted. Since “we are both fallen people at the ends of the earth,” I glanced at him a little longer than usual. Unexpectedly, that’s when the nightmare began...

His expression was even more wretched than mine, and he had good reason, as he was a "farmer" selling watermelons?! On such a hot day, carrying two baskets of fruit while walking on a road with no tree shade, he approached me as we passed each other, and I gave him a sympathetic look. Unexpectedly, he locked his gaze on me and blocked my path. Startled, I stopped and looked at him. He put down his load and stared at me with an even more pitiful expression. After two seconds of silence, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the towel hanging around his neck and began speaking:

—"Young lady, please buy some of my sand tangerines?"

Before I could respond, he played the pity card:

—"You see, it's so hot today, and my fruits aren’t selling well. Carrying them is exhausting. Please buy some. I can’t take it anymore. I'll give you a discount. They're usually 4 yuan, but I'll sell them to you for 3.5 yuan..."

Perhaps after walking for so long, I was tired and confused. Seeing him look so pitiful and earnestly negotiating prices with me, I unconsciously gave in, thinking it wasn't easy for him either, so I should buy some.

—"Alright, I'll buy one jin."

—"Young lady, please buy a whole bag. We don’t sell them individually. If you buy just one jin, it won't help much, and I'll still be exhausted carrying them..."

Maybe because I was similarly tired and confused, I conceded again.

—"Alright, I'll buy a whole bag. Please pick me a good one."

—"They're all good, all good. Put it down here. Once you taste it, you'll definitely come back to buy more from me..."

—"Can I open it and check?"

—"It's already sealed. Opening it will make it harder for you to carry later..."

—"Alright, alright, hurry up and weigh it. It's so hot, I need to leave."

Carrying the heavy 4-pound "sand tangerine" bag back home, I was secretly proud, feeling like I had done a good deed by helping someone in need. To me, buying fruit wasn't just about eating delicious fruit but also about showing compassion and directly assisting someone in need. So I was eager to open the package and see how the fruit tasted. Not until evening, when it cooled down, around 11 PM, did I remember my fruit purchase. With great pride, I opened the net bag...

Unfortunately, it turned out to be a tragedy. Some fell right away, and upon closer inspection, they weren’t even sand tangerines! The remaining ones now lie scattered on my bay window. I have no choice but to leave them there, letting the wind blow over them as a memento of my experience!!!