She Only Cares About Cultivation

As soon as they arrived home and saw the burnt straw house, the two sisters were shocked.

"Oh my, what happened here? Why did the house catch fire?"

"Well, it’s a long story. You two get cleaned up first,"

An Yi went home and drew two basins of water, one for the sisters and one placed at the sitting basket area, taking the daughter from Qiuxia’s arms and putting her in.

She used a small towel to wash the girl’s hands and face, cleaning off the dirt from playing. Once she was cleaned, she looked much better.

Then she handed her a teething cookie and cleaned herself up.

"Today I traded a big Carp from a socialist; we’ll stew it and eat it tonight."

The fish came from space. As soon as she returned, she killed and marinated it, initially planning to eat it tomorrow, but the two girls returned today.

The fish was large, weighing at least three or four pounds. She chopped off the fish head and put the body back into space.

"Tonight, we’ll have chili fish head with flatbread."

The sisters naturally agreed. Whatever An Yi cooked always tasted vastly different from what they made.

Even something as simple as fried potato shreds tasted different. They didn’t know where the difference was, so they simply helped with other chores instead.

An Yi liked to fiddling around with cooking, but she didn’t like scrubbing pots or washing dishes, so the two sisters shared those responsibilities. The kitchen managed by the three sisters was still very clean.

Because the chili had a strong smell, An Yi told them to take the child for a walk, accompanied by the nut.

With no one at home to disturb her, she tied a towel around her head, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.

The chili sauce at home was stored from last year and now had a very rich flavor.

Today, she prepared some white flour dough, and while the fish head stewed, she made some white flour rolls for the daughter, sprinkling them with scallions, lard, and sesame seeds—delicious and fragrant. When steaming, you just need to place a few chopsticks over the fish head.

Flatbread was still made with coarse grains, as adults could eat anything. These coarse grains included all the mixed grains they grew: sorghum, corn, buckwheat, sweet potato flour, soybeans, etc. Though the taste wasn’t great, it was better than many households that ate pastries made from husk skins. The coarse grains they made at least had the husk removed, unlike the modern-day method where large chaff would be sieved out, leaving only the fine grain.

The coarse grains at their home were ground carefully. After the first grind, she sieved them once and then ground them two or three times before storing them in bags.

Finely milled rice, white flour, glutinous rice flour, various kinds of flour—it was all the fine grain she left for An Ran.

She was born in this era and couldn’t eat fine grains every day, so she was long accustomed to coarse grains. It was naturally hard to swallow, but wasn’t it good for the body?

Grains needed to be used sparingly. Just because space had inexhaustible resources, she couldn’t indulge in fine grains, not even in the trustworthy sisters’ presence without some reservations.

An Ran would eventually need to integrate into the collective. Before she turned three, she would eat fine grains to facilitate her digestive system’s development. After three, she would have to start eating coarse grains like the rest, an unavoidable process. She couldn’t let An Ran develop an uncontrolled habit of eating fine grains, as future years might be the most challenging times in her life.

At dinner, An Yi shared everything that had happened lately in her place, which made the sisters sigh.

"She’s too fortunate. Sister, aren’t you afraid she’ll return?"

"I’ve already spared her; if she dares to come back, then she’s beyond saving."

But as An Yi had settled down now, the sisters breathed a sigh of relief. Meanwhile, they brought some news.

"Sister, we heard from the teacher that the city is short of labor, and they’re choosing folks from the countryside to go to the City!"

This was a development trend in the early days of Jianguo, selecting craftsmen hidden in rural areas to move to the city. Those selected didn’t represent themselves but their entire family. So when they settled in the city—even if they married and had kids—their elder family members or siblings, if in need, had to be helped, otherwise, they would face moral condemnation.

This situation would stabilize after fifty-seven years when rules mainly were inadequate initially, requiring a trial-and-error process. The reason peasants were later restricted from moving to the City was mostly because urban demand was saturated, rural farmland was abandoned, and a mass movement back to rural areas created chaos.