Text: Shen Chuan

Steaming a few cages and "pushing them together", heating a few pots of rice wine, eating some snacks, and drinking and chatting with relatives and friends around the firewood stove were indelible memories of Hakka people in southern Jiangxi.

This way of eating was called "Ciba" in the early years, with golden color, refreshing taste and natural plant ash flavor. In the era of food shortage, everyone is only willing to cook it on holidays. When making, we need a young Qi Xin to work together, with adults pushing the mill and children feeding. Before eating, the elders sitting at the table called it "pushing paste together" in homophonic, which gave this food the meaning of "Qi Xin for the whole family".

As the older generation gets older, young people go out to settle down and never return home. "Pushing together" has also changed its foreign name-"Mo Zhai", and the meaning behind this name has gradually disappeared.

The making of Mozhai is very complicated: the branches commonly known as "hanging eggplant tree" are peeled, put into a pot and added with water to make soup, and then the ashes made of rice straw or soybean straw are mixed with the soup and evenly filtered. After the filtered amber "grey water" is cooled, put the stalks into it to soak-this kind of rice is also exquisite, so you must choose the stalks that are not delicious, otherwise the well-made mill will be very sticky and have no toughness.

With the cooperation of the whole family, the soaked straw is ground into rice slurry with a stone mill, then the rice slurry is poured into a firewood cauldron, simmered slowly with a small fire, and slowly turned and squeezed with a spatula, so that the rice slurry is dried and people's clothes are soaked. Pick up the glutinous rice paste, put it in a dustpan, rub some camellia oil, knead it into tough strips, or make it into a shape similar to jiaozi's "potion", and then wrap it with stuffing.

Put some straw at the bottom of the steamer, rub (wrap) it on it, steam for half an hour, lift the lid, and a different fragrance will come to the nose. When I was a child, when Mo Zhai was out of the pot, I was clamoring for it. No matter how hot the weather is, I hold it and sit on the threshold. I keep falling back and forth with my hands, puffing and blowing, and I can't bear to let it go.

Mo Zhai's fillings are usually made of radish, winter bamboo shoots and pickles. Eating it in one bite is soft and crisp, and it has the taste of four seasons. My family likes to eat spicy food, so there are many red and yellow peppers in the stuffing. After eating it, a few people will drool and sweat on their foreheads, but their mouths will never stop chewing

Rub it into long strips, slice it and dice it, dip it in sauce and water, or stir-fry or make soup. Pepper, garlic, chopped green onion, soy sauce and sesame oil are used as the base materials. When boiled in boiling water, various fragrances are scattered in the air bit by bit. When Mo Zhai dipped in the sauce water, the salty taste of soy sauce and the smell of plant ash poured into the nasal cavity, followed by the smell of pepper and garlic sesame oil, which filled the mouth. When various flavors are mixed together, it makes the mouth feel My Sweetie.

If you want to cook soup and stir-fry soup, go to the field to pick tender cauliflower, pinch it and put it in the soup or stir-fry it. The green scent of cauliflower, together with the pink and yellow of Mo Zhai, is full of color and flavor.

Besides holidays, my mother sometimes cooks a vegetarian meal in the spring rain. Continuous rain prevents people from going to the fields, so people who know each other well will come and talk to their mothers. When they talk, some people will suggest cooking a vegetarian meal. My mother will heat some homemade rice wine, and several people will prepare the raw materials while drinking. I often squat in front of the stove, holding a blower and tongs to help my mother watch the fire, while listening with relish to the parents' home and the sound of rain ticking outside the window. Sometimes listening, I fall asleep in front of the fire. When my mother wakes me up, the steaming mill has come out.

No matter at home or outside, my mother never stops working, just like a donkey blindfolded by life, spinning on the millstone along the given route of life. My father is a village party secretary and often comes back late at night. You can hear the sound of unlocking in a daze, and the old wooden door is pushed open.

If you smell the mill through the door, your father will shout to your mother, "huh?" Why did you push the pulp together today? Another wasted day! Get up and heat it for me! "

On weekdays, if she is called to work so late, her mother who has been tired for a whole day will be very annoyed, and quarrels are inevitable. However, no matter how late it is, her mother will get up without saying a word to get ready for her father, and then sit next to her father in clothes until his father has finished eating and cleaned up before going to bed.

Sometimes I get angry because my father woke me up and ask my mother not to spoil my father too much. She always laughs and scolds me: "Why do you care so much?"

I learned the reason later.

When my father was a child, my grandparents divorced. My grandfather taught in another town and didn't go home to take care of several children. In a rage, my grandmother took several children back to her mother's house, leaving my father alone at home. The young father can't take care of himself, so he has to follow his grandmother. Grandma is very stingy and doesn't like to add mouths out of thin air at home. The rations distributed to her father by the collective head are often hidden by her, and only one meal is given to my father every day. My father used to lie motionless on the side of the road at that time, because he was dizzy when he moved. When the villagers saw that his neck was so thin that it could be broken with a pinch, they all thought that he would starve to death sooner or later.

One year, there was a bumper harvest in the village, and the production team held some "push and paste" celebrations for the first time. The young father stole it when the adults were not looking, ran away, ate some on the way home and left some for dinner. Unexpectedly, when he got home, Mo Zhai was taken away by his great-grandmother.

Father asked, "Grandma, this is my dinner. What do I have for dinner? "

Great-grandmother said, "Go to sleep quickly, and you won't be hungry when you fall asleep."

The lunch I had at noon was the only full meal my father had in those years. Since then, the memory of hunger has given him a unique feeling about rowing together. My father always looked bitter when he recalled this incident: "I didn't get the love of my parents when I was a child, and I almost starved to death many times." Your uncles are treated much better than me, and my brothers suffer the most. "

A few years later, my grandparents reconciled and my father was able to eat enough again. But my grandmother is not good at making snacks, and my father is greedy. Only when I meet someone who can do it can I find a reason to "make a windfall".

This situation was not changed until the mother appeared in the father's life.

My grandfather was bullied by the captain in the production team. He attributed the reason to the lack of "public grain" at home. Although my father was only a small accountant in the village after graduating from high school, my grandfather took a fancy to him and made the matchmaker a matchmaker. Grandfather is a teacher, and his children eat public meals. He thinks highly of himself, but he doesn't agree with this marriage in his heart, but he doesn't want to hit the matchmaker in the face, so he promised to take his father to visit.

In order to show the importance of this marriage, my grandfather took out the stalks accumulated at home for many years and cooked a meal. My father followed my grandfather and chatted with him in the living room, while my mother helped my grandmother in the kitchen across the street. At lunch, my grandfather thought this mill was delicious, so he praised my mother: "You are the first one in the stove village." It is said that the daughter of this family is hardworking and capable. I'll believe that when I see it. My grandfather nodded, and before long, my mother walked through the door.

But in fact, at that time, my mother couldn't cook vegetarian dishes at all, and all kinds of snacks at home were made by my grandmother on weekdays. On the day when my parents "met" for the first time, my father sitting in the living room just saw my mother rubbing rice paste hard, not knowing that most of the process was completed by my grandmother-my mother was just busy that day and helped my grandmother rub it a few times, which happened to be seen by my father.

Fortunately, after my mother got married, the food at home was tight, and my grandmother was strict, so she didn't have a chance to fry these snacks. It was not until a few years later that the farmland was divided and the grain began to have a balance that this enough paper was smashed.

My mother went back to her mother's house and asked her grandmother how to cook a vegetarian meal, but my father was still obsessed with the taste he tasted on a blind date. When I was a child, I often heard my father say, "Your mother hasn't improved her skills for so many years, and your grandmother's paste is much more delicious." Unfortunately, your grandmother doesn't do this often now, and she won't have it delivered. "

From time to time, the mother let her father nag and laugh without saying anything. However, I think my mother's art of grinding lent has already shone on you.

When I was in junior high school, my mother's sciatica never improved, my father lost the election and rested at home, and my grandfather died in bed for half a year because of liver cancer. The economic pressure at home is increasing. In order to save money, my father often goes to the farmland to pick up snails. As a result, once someone just sprinkled carbofuran on the ground, and he went to bed with pesticide poisoning. Seeing that our daughter and son-in-law fell, grandma came to take care of us and cooked for us in another way.

When I first ate my grandmother's Mo Zhai, I was a little disappointed. I think "it's really hard to match the reputation"-the taste is rough, and the thick straw flavor is mixed with many raw materials, which makes me feel monotonous, but my parents praise it. Later, as I grew older, I gradually understood the essentials of tasting food and the meaning beyond food, and began to like grandma's grinding.

Every Spring Festival, relatives who haven't seen each other for a long time will gather at a table and eat a lively meal cooked by grandma, which has become a "reserved program" in my family, but unfortunately this happiness didn't last long.

This is the last time I eat my grandmother's Mo Zhai. After the Spring Festival, I went to see my grandmother. I walked into the living room of a familiar old house and found that it was dark and there was no fireworks. I called "grandma", but there was no sound. I thought my grandmother had gone to my uncle's house, and I was just about to ask my next-door neighbor. Suddenly, she staggered out of the kitchen opposite on crutches: "Good boy, you came to see grandma."

Grandma looks sallow and falters. In those two years, I heard her mother say that she was in poor health intermittently, fearing that the children would have ideas in their hearts. She really couldn't hold on until she went to the hospital and her health went from bad to worse.

Seeing that I came to see her with my wife and children, my grandmother was very happy and dragged me to talk about the old days. At the end of lunch, I got up to say goodbye to my elderly and frail grandmother and a widow, so I stopped cooking and went to several uncles' houses for dinner in turn. Over time, brothers and sisters are suspicious of each other, and various contradictions and relationships are increasingly recognized, and finally they become strangers. Before I came, my mother told me to go home after lunch, and it was best not to go to my uncle's house for dinner.

"You thin bud, how can you come to grandma's house and leave without eating!" Grandma was anxious, got up and grabbed me. "I heard that you are back, and I know that you like to push the pulp together. The materials have already been prepared."

When my grandmother cooked for me, my little uncle came to deliver meals to my grandmother. I asked my little uncle to live with me. My uncle said he had something to do, so he left first. After he left, grandma sighed and said trembling, "Now every household has its own business, so it is difficult to get together. It was a long time ago to push the pulp together in the New Year. "

After lunch, grandma brought some snacks and sat in the yard in the sun. She continued to talk to me about familiar people and things, and it was dusk before she knew it. The air began to turn yellow, vaguely mixed with the smell of firewood-people around have already made a fire to cook. Grandma leaned her hands on the bamboo chair, squinting, quietly watching my son playing with other children in the grain drying field, smiling slightly, and the wrinkles on her face were like a pile of dried radish.

"Grandma, if I don't go back, it will be dark." The sun collects all the light, and my body is getting colder and colder. Time to go.

"Sit down for a while, huh?" Grandma made a voice that was almost pleading. "You haven't come home in recent years. I haven't seen you for a long time. I am old, so I can watch it less once. Now that the road is good, you have a car anyway. "

Grandma beat her legs hard: "I am useless when I am old." My leg hurts so much in recent years that I can't read it well after reading it several times. It cost your uncle a lot of money. Well, when I get old, I should die. Living is also a kind of pain. "

My heart ached: "Grandma, I'll take you to see it tomorrow."

"Your uncle, they will take me to the hospital." Grandma shook her head, as if to convince herself: "Fortunately, my son was born a lot, otherwise this old bones would have been buried in the soil."

I want to say something, but I still can't. My grandmother's three meals a day are guaranteed. Compared with my cousin's grandmother who was finally starved to death in bed and left her son alone, she can be regarded as "happy in her later years". The happiness of the old people in the village is like crops. The longer they stay underground, the cheaper they get. Generally speaking, they will not survive the cold wave in winter after autumn, and they will be lost in the land silently forever.

After the Spring Festival, my mother and I returned to Hangzhou. One Saturday morning a few months later, I heard my mother in a daze on the phone. I panicked and got out of bed. Just after I went out, my wife whispered to me, "It seems to be about my grandmother."

Mother lay prone on the table and sobbed, "Your grandmother passed away."

Many years later, grandma's body collapsed at an accelerated pace, and she couldn't sleep because of the pain, but she dared not tell her uncles and could only complain to the old lady next door. Finally, the neighbors couldn't stand it any longer, so they told their uncle. When lying in the hospital bed, grandma had no oil and lights. Knowing that her time was running out, she said to her uncles, "Call my married daughter back."

But my uncles didn't inform my mother as my grandmother wanted. When my mother learned that my grandmother had died, she was anxious to go home, but before she left home, my uncles told me that my grandmother had been cremated and the funeral was simple. They have finished processing and gone home. My mother turned pale and sat on the sofa to hide her face. She was silent for a long time.

When I got up the next morning, I found a lot of washed wormwood in the pool. I asked my wife what wormwood was used for. My wife said, "Mom just bought it at the vegetable market this morning and said she would pack wormwood jiaozi."

In the mother's view, Zhejiang Aijiao is a kind of food that looks most like a mill. When she misses the food in her hometown, she cooks it occasionally, but she doesn't particularly like it. Every time she cooks, she will sigh: "Although the taste of Ai Jiao is good, it is still far from neat and exquisite."

When I was cooking Aijiao that morning, my mother was uncharacteristically unwilling to let us help. In the afternoon, my mother sat at the table alone and bowed her head to eat Ai Jiao.

"Mom, didn't you eat at noon? Are you hungry so soon?"

Mom looked up, her eyes were red, and she sighed leisurely: "It's still delicious that your grandmother cooked."

Some fate seems to be predestined, and my wife has a soft spot for Mo Zhai.

When you get married, according to the custom, you must hold a banquet in your hometown in Jiangxi. Before my wife and I went back to our hometown, my parents specially asked me about the taste of Jiangsu and Zhejiang. Although they tried to cook according to the imaginary "Jiangsu and Zhejiang tastes", I could still clearly feel my wife's discomfort. I want to tell my parents, but my wife won't let me. She thinks there is no need to make a fuss. She will get used to it in a few days: "I don't care, I will get used to it sooner or later, but ..."

I know what my wife means-we can get married in Hangzhou, and my uncle has helped a lot. My parents are very grateful and want to take this opportunity to treat my wife's family well. My wife is a little worried about the different customs and eating habits between the two places, which leads to embarrassment. Surprisingly, among the many foods prepared by my mother, that mill house dispelled our worries-it won the preference of my wife's family.

After the wedding, my wife and family returned to Hangzhou. Since then, my wife has often been depressed. I thought she was upset because she was not with her parents during the Spring Festival, so I comforted her: "We will go back to Hangzhou after the second day of the Lunar New Year, and soon."

The wife shook her head. "That's not why I'm here. I am already mentally prepared for this. "

Under my repeated questioning, my wife told me that the day before the wedding reception, when we rented a car in the city to pick up our family and go back to the village, the road became more and more bumpy along the way, and the brick houses on both sides of the road gradually turned into earth walls. Most of the houses are very old, and the walls fall off one by one, revealing the true colors of the soil inside, which is ragged and lifeless at first glance.

My wife's sister-in-law looked out of the window and forgot for a moment that her wife was in the back seat. She said to my brother-in-law, "This place is really poor. The economic level is not even as good as Shaoxing in the 1980s. Your sister is so stupid. She got married in this place, with no money and no house. Now the resettlement house your sister bought doesn't even have a real estate license, and she has no money to decorate it. This is a debt. If the original landlord is derailed, things will be difficult and no one will help. "

Due to the financial difficulties at that time, my wife and I bought a demolition and resettlement house in Shaoxing. As my wife Xiao Yan said, there was no real estate license at the time of the transaction, only a paper contract signed by both parties, which really brought great trouble to the subsequent transfer.

"You should find a good wife in the future, or your parents will be under great pressure." Aunt told my brother-in-law

My wife was embarrassed in the back seat and didn't know how to answer the phone at the moment.

I understand my wife's situation. We are under great financial pressure, and our parents are in poor financial conditions and unable to help. On weekdays, both of us carefully avoid mentioning these topics. But this time, I was inadvertently "broken" by menstruation. Pressure is like high-pressure steam after the gate is opened, and it is difficult to close it again.

My mother also noticed my wife's unhappiness and asked me why. I am afraid that my parents will think too much, so I will say that my wife is not acclimatized. I didn't expect my mother to be anxious: "Why can't others even eat well when they are married?" She asked her daughter-in-law directly: "There are many snacks in my hometown. I'll make some for you to taste. "

Mother cooked all the snacks in her hometown in a different way, but my wife's favorite thing was to paste them together. Mother saw that her daughter-in-law loved to eat, so she made a lot of grinding, soaked it in "grey water" and stored it for us to take when we returned to Hangzhou.

One day, there was no breakfast at home. I wanted to go to town to buy it, but my mother stopped me. She thinks the breakfast in town is not clean and nutritious. As she walked, she said, "We still have a series of tweets. I will pick some broccoli from the garden and put it back in the soup. Fangfang (my wife) will definitely like it. "

When mother took out the steaming soup mill, she sprinkled a handful of chopped green onion according to her wife's taste. The wife tasted it and praised it: "It's delicious, and it looks appetizing! I didn't expect to push the pulp to taste different and taste different. "

"Is it delicious?" I joked, "Are you used to it now?"

"However, ordinary ingredients have to go through many processes to become food!" My wife seemed to want to say something else, but when my mother came in to wash the dishes, she got up to help and took back her words.

My wife is eager for her mother to teach her how to cook vegetarian food. She is smart, too. The vegetarian food cooked for the first time tastes authentic, but she is allergic to raw materials. The next day, she developed hives-but she is not allergic to hives. She tried several times. When my mother saw it, she wouldn't let her wife participate in the production of raw materials. My wife can only help scoop the soaked stalks into the stone mill, while I push the mill instead of my father. My mother is afraid that I will stand by tired and give me a push from time to time.

This scene, however, should mean "pushing the pulp together"

Later, my wife gradually got used to the Hakka diet. When my mother came to Hangzhou to take care of our children, it took a long time, and her cooking combined the advantages of both places. My wife, on the other hand, often says that she will go back to Jiangxi when she has time and try Hakka snacks again.

After I settled in Hangzhou, it was hard for me to eat Mo Zhai cooked by my mother. In recent years, because it is inconvenient for children to go back to their hometown and they often go overseas on business trips, they have never been back to their hometown for the New Year.

As I grow older, I seem to have some kind of homesickness. I am obsessed with learning to cook all kinds of snacks in my hometown and pester my mother to teach me from time to time. But I will never learn, so I wasted a lot of ingredients. My mother is always very helpless: "no young people in the village always want to learn such a mess like you." If you want to eat, just go back to your hometown and cook it for you. "

"This is your ace. Of course I want to learn. I can cook it for you when you are old. " I said.

"If it is really the day I can't do it, who will think about eating these? Are there not many snacks in the city? " Mother smiled and shook her head. "Now who will push mud in their own homes? You can buy it on the street, and it's very cheap. You'd better concentrate on your work, earn more money, educate your children, be a good family and live your own life. Don't think about these trifles. "

This year's Spring Festival is still full of all kinds of things, and going home for the New Year has become a bubble. My parents planned to take care of their grandson in Hangzhou after the New Year, but I didn't expect to be grounded because of the epidemic. My parents are worried about us and miss our grandchildren. I often video with my wife. I am busy with my work at home, so I usually say a few words. Most of the time, my wife and children are chatting with my parents.

At noon a few days ago, I was working in the living room. My mother and my son are recording. My son misses his grandmother and keeps talking. I was too noisy, so I hid in the study. After a while, the wife pushed the door with her mobile phone and came in: "Mom is looking for you."

I answered the phone and asked, "Mom, what's the matter? What's wrong? "

"What's the matter? Your mother made some putters, and she wants to show you. " Father interjected with a bowl and chopsticks.

Mother gave her mobile phone to her father, only to find that there was a steamer on the stove at home, and the steamer in the iron pot was still steaming, and the familiar fragrance slowly got into the nasal cavity through the screen.

"Oh, I haven't eaten for a long time. Mom, you have done so much. Can you two finish eating? " I said.

"I advise your mother not to do so much. Your mother has to do so much, saying that she wants to bring it to your brothers. " Father paused, "I don't know when this virus will be cured, or you two brothers will have nothing to worry about at home." That would be great ... "

In the video, the mother ignored her father's feelings and just frowned and smacked her lips: "The taste is still a little worse."

"Didn't you make it yourself?" I was surprised. "How bad can it taste?"

Mom smiled: "Maybe I'm old, and I can't even cook well when I'm old."

"It may be a problem with raw materials." I comforted my mother.

"It may be that the pulp ground by electric mill is a bit thick. If your two brothers were at home, you would definitely use a stone mill. Your father and I are too old to push the stone mill. "

"No, your mother has been in a big city for a long time, eating too much ash (delicacies) and her mouth has become awkward." My father appeared in the camera with a bowl in his hand. "It's still delicious to me, and it tastes almost the same as before."

"Put your shit, my ash pin can have you eat more? You have been lazy for more than 30 years and have never eaten delicious food? " My mother's voice suddenly became louder-in her eyes, my father has been a village official for so many years, regardless of his family. Although I didn't make any money, I didn't eat less wine and meat, and my body was ruined. She talks about it a lot on weekdays.

"You have been in Hangzhou for a long time, and your taste has changed." Father looked very angry and took a sip of rice wine on the stove.

"Let's drink! Didn't you say just one sip? Are you dying? " Mother took it away. My father is "three highs", and my mother doesn't let him drink on weekdays, so my father has to look at my mother helplessly.

My old parents gradually changed roles at home, and I couldn't help laughing. Mom smiled, too, a little embarrassed.

"Your grandmother also likes to push the paste together. She used to cook it during the Chinese New Year and always gave it to your grandmother. " Father began to get emotional again.

"Look at your father (father), think of your grandmother if you have something good!" Mother said, paused and glanced at her father. "It's true that the less you get care from your parents when you are young, the more filial you are when you grow up!"

My father looked at the wine bowl in my mother's hand and took a deep breath: "Eat quickly, don't say so much, they (my uncles) will send her back to her hometown after the New Year."

The medical conditions in the county are good. Grandparents have lived there since they retired, and their sons take turns to take care of them. I casually commented: "Grandma is in poor health and is always ill in hospital. It seems bad to go back to her hometown now. Who is responsible for the accident? "

"This is a generation ago. Don't worry so much, just don't be like them! " Father sighed: "The relationship has been getting worse in recent years, and it is no longer Qi Xin. Now you must take care of your grandmother. There are many contradictions, and each has its own excuse! "

I have something to say, but I hesitated for a while and didn't dare to say it-in recent years, uncles have always looked down on each other, people with more money look down on people without money, and people who have gone to college look down on rural people. They have long forgotten that they have the same blood in their bodies.

"(Grandparents) let them live in the county town when they can take care of their children and work, but now they can't move, so they send them to their hometown-their books have been read on dogs, and your grandmother doesn't want to come back at all, alas." The mother said to her father indignantly, "Your brothers are too selfish. No one who went to college and attended your father's class is filial and United, but their handwriting is beautiful. "

My father was silent. He squatted in the kitchen and added some firewood to it. He lowered his head and blew the fire into the kitchen with a blowtorch. He pushed too hard, choked on the kitchen dust and kept coughing. Seeing that he didn't respond, my mother felt very annoyed and stopped talking. She leaned her mobile phone against the wall and the camera was aimed at them.

I watched my parents quietly eating an ordinary meal in front of the stove as usual. There was silence all around, only the water in the pot gurgled and the steam struggled to escape from the steamer. Little by little, the scene of childhood began again in front of my eyes. I think it's best to let my parents stay in their hometown for a longer period of time. Perhaps, in the process of chewing and swallowing a meal, the "home" stripped by my brother and I will return to their hearts little by little. When we are far away from home, there has long been a watershed between our life and our hometown, and it is difficult to return to our past life.

The only regret is that my son doesn't even want to try Mo Zhai. I think it's delicious. My wife always laughs at me when she sees that I am a little lost: "You have read so many books, but you don't even understand this truth? He grew up in Hangzhou and definitely likes hangzhou dishes better. "

My wife is right. My father's hometown is my hometown, but my hometown is not my son's hometown Some things changed a long time ago

A month later, Hangzhou was unsealed, and my wife and I ended our life of working at home. My mother took risks and came to Hangzhou to help with the children. Before I came to Hangzhou, I always told my mother not to bring what she could bring, but to bring her own clothes. Mother readily promised, but when I picked her up from Hangzhou East Railway Station, I found that the suitcase was too heavy for me to carry upstairs alone. Before I went home and opened it, I specially weighed it, which was close to 70 Jin-such a heavy box. I don't know how my mother carried it from her hometown to Hangzhou alone.

Open the box, which contains 10 frozen chickens and many Mo Zhai. Mother always thinks that feed chickens in chicken farms are not as nutritious as chickens raised in the mountains. Every time I go back to my hometown, she will bring us a lot, but when eating, she never moves chopsticks: "You eat more, I ate a lot in my hometown, and I can't absorb it when I am old, saving waste." It's no use trying to persuade.

And these workshops are naturally brought to us by my mother.

"Originally, I used grey water to push the pulp, but I was stopped when I entered the railway station. This year, the epidemic was particularly severe, and it was useless to plead, so we had to dump the gray water-unfortunately, there was no gray water, and it all cracked and the taste would be much worse. " Mother squatted on the ground, sighed and looked at the cracked mill. She was very annoyed. "This year's push is very neat. It seems that I can't eat any more. "

Title map: golo