Chapter 162 - Chapter 162: Chapter 162: Underestimate (1/2)

Chapter 162: Chapter 162: Underestimate

Translator: 549690339

“If you don’t accept this, I’ll have to go and buy more stuff to give you.”

“Moreover, this is also my mother’s wish. If you don’t eat this stewed chicken, I don’t know how she might scold me when I get back home.”

Seeing that Zhuang Yutian was speaking like this, Zhuang Qingning had no choice but to agree: “Alright then, this pot of stewed chicken is enough, there’s no need to go to any more trouble.”

“Auntie was kind enough to rent us the tofu shop before, that was a great help to both of us. Now, it’s just a small gesture, not even enough to repay her initial kindness, it’s really too much to accept your thanks.”

Zhuang Qingning persuaded him.

Not to mention, there was also the element of the system task at play, Zhuang Qingning felt that she really couldn’t accept Zhuang Yutian’s gratitude too much.

This was a life-saving grace, how could a pot of stewed chicken be enough?

Zhuang Yutian, of course, still wanted to thank Zhuang Qingning with something else. Hearing her speak like this, he swallowed back what he was going to say.

There was still plenty of time, there was no need to rush at this moment, nor was there a need to say everything upfront.

“The stewed chicken is still hot, it’s fine to eat it now. If you’re waiting until after the noodles, it’s best to heat it up again. The stew is made with an old hen, it’s a bit greasy, it won’t taste good when it cools.”

Zhuang Yutian lifted his foot: “Then you guys hurry up and prepare to eat lunch, I need to rush home to prepare the afternoon medicine.”

“Uncle Yutian, take care…” Zhuang Qingning saw Zhuang Yutian out the door, returned to the courtyard, and lifted the lid of the clay pot.

The clay pot was big and deep, and what was inside was full to the brim. Clearly, an entire chicken was in there, and judging by the soft and tender meat, it had been stewed for quite a while.

This kind of stewed chicken was the most flavorful to eat.

Zhuang Qingning found a porcelain basin in the kitchen, scooped out half of the chicken with a large spoon, covered the pot, took a cloche and handed it to Zhuang Qingsui: “What I’ve scooped out is enough for us to eat. The rest can be sent to Uncle Yonghe’s house, I’ll make the noodles at home.”

Yesterday night, Zhuang Yonghe was called on to fetch the doctor, and in the morning he went again. Running back and forth twice like that must have been exhausting. Sending the chicken over was like presenting Buddha with borrowed flowers.

“Alright.” Zhuang Qingsui readily agreed, picked up the clay pot, and walked outside.

With a rush of wind under her feet, she walked away quickly.

“Slow down, careful not to trip.” Seeing Zhuang Qingsui’s hasty appearance, Zhuang Qingning reminded her.

“I know…”

Far away, Zhuang Qingsui’s crisp response drifted back.

Zhuang Qingning couldn’t help but smile, took out the big rolling pin, and placed the well-rested dough on the chopping board.

Rolling the dough, folding it, cutting it into strips…

Smooth as flowing water, thin hand-made noodles were born under Zhuang Qingning’s hands. A thin layer of cornmeal was sprinkled to prevent sticking, and Zhuang Qingning added a handful of firewood to the stove.