Chapter 22 The Song of Pork

"Guangyi, that's not what I meant. I definitely believe it and stand on your side." Xuan Shi comforted: "Professor Nie must have done this, otherwise you will definitely be able to go to the school you want to study.

The major I miss.”

Xuan Shi knew Nie Guangyi’s achievements best.

Even if there is a slight risk, there is no need for Nie Guangyi to give up so many walk-on spots.

If this is just enough to get the results of Tsinghua University, I will definitely go in first.

It’s not like schools like Tsinghua University don’t have any channels for changing majors.

Nie Guangyi twitched the corner of his mouth. He didn't have the energy to say anything more at the moment. He could only reply feebly: "I know you said there was a misunderstanding."

"I mean, is there any deeper reason why Professor Nie did this?" Xuan Shi quickly added, "Besides the subject."

"Xiao Shizi."

"Um?"

"Do you think there are other reasons? Is it the key?"

"Isn't it important?"

"What kind of reasons would allow a father to ruin his child's twelve years of hard work?" Nie Guangyi raised his eyes and asked, "Even if you watch the news, you probably have only heard of parents doing everything possible to save themselves.

Is the child cheating?"

"I don't watch the news..."

Nie Guangyi was a little annoyed: "Is this the point?"

"No." This time, Xuan Shi answered directly.

"Then it's over?" Nie Guangyi restrained his temper. Strangely enough, his temper now was more than twice as good as before.

"But Guangyi..." Xuanshi hesitated, and finally continued: "You no longer have a mother, do you want to stay away from your father for the rest of your life?"

Xuan Shi put it euphemistically.

But the sentence itself is very heartbreaking.

The reason why family ties are family ties is that they cannot be completely severed by staying farther away or returning home less often.

During those years when he was angry, Nie Guangyi actually had no feelings.

He felt that being alone and free was better than anything else.

As he grew older and the years passed, he found that he was not so determined.

Such uncertainty made him choose to rush back two years ago to attend Grandma Qiu's 100th birthday.

But his heart was not relieved.

…

"Why have you been gone for so long?" Zong Ji looked at his watch: "If you two don't come back, dad will go to the Broken Bridge to find you."

"My dad, are you mistaken?" Zong Yi stuck out his tongue, made a face, and answered playfully: "Isn't the broken bridge in the West Lake?"

Facing his youngest daughter's "difficulty", Zongji immediately acted like he was being troubled: "Then Ayi himself said that the Wan'an Bridge has been burned down and collapsed. What is it called a broken bridge if not a broken bridge?"

Zong Yi blinked his big eyes and said nonsense seriously: "Of course it's called a bridge collapse~"

"Is there such a thing?" Zongji responded with a smile.

The little girl and the old god replied: "There is no explanation in the world. When more people say it, it becomes the explanation."

It is a good thing to learn and put it into practice, but when it happened to Zong Yi, who had not graduated from elementary school, it made Zong Ji a little worried.

He said seriously: "Ayi, if you talk like this all day long, you will easily fail the exam later."

"You must be a fake dad." Zong Yi pouted and responded in a self-aggrandizing voice: "Give me your real dad quickly."

"Why is it fake?"

"Because really my father only praises me for my spirituality, just like he praises my sister for her writing skills."

"Oh~?" Zongji deliberately changed the intonation of one word several times, making his tone very long: "Ayi is sure that I am your fake father, right~?"

When Zong Yi heard this, he immediately understood. He shook his head like a rattle and started the standard classical scale rap mode: "No, no, no, no, no, is there anything good to eat?"

Meng Xinzhi first reacted immediately and started looking for dad-style delicacies next to the RV.

Soon I found a small stove using briquettes.

In this day and age, every household in the city is connected to natural gas.

Even the Aurora Studio in Shangougou uses liquefied gas.

Briquettes have become an antique in many places.

11-year-old Zong Yi has neither seen nor heard of it.

She immediately walked in and squatted down.

Although Meng Xinzhi had seen it on TV, this was the first time I could remember seeing it with my own eyes.

The two sisters quickly gathered around the stove in the same posture, curious about the briquettes under the stove.

"Sister, sister, sister, I have a question."

Because of the head-to-head relationship with Mengxinzhi, Zongyi’s rap targets also changed.

"You want to ask what this is, right?" Meng Xinzhi answered directly: "This is briquettes."

"My sister, you don't know me too well. How could I be curious about this? Your foodie sister must be curious about what's cooking in the pot!"

"I don't know about this either. I'll open it for you to see." Meng Xinzhi stretched out his hand.

Soon after saying it, Zong Ji directly pressed the lid of the pot with his hand.

He gave the two sisters a serious warning: "This pot lid cannot be opened until tomorrow morning."

"Dad, dad, dad, please tell me why?" Although Zong Yi was a little unhappy, he still obediently stopped his hand and gave up on immediately opening the lid of the pot.

"You can't rush the stuff here, so you have to simmer it slowly, [don't rush it until it's cooked]." Zong Ji gave up and pouted in the direction of Meng Xinzhi, "Your sister must know how to cook it."

What is."

Meng Xinzhi, who had already squatted down, heard this, came closer to smell it, and asked aloud: "The song of pork?"

"Yes!" Zongji stroked his non-existent beard and opened his mouth to speak the ancient "local" words praising pork——

[Wash the pan cleanly, add less water, and the firewood will not emit smoke and flames. Don’t rush it until it is ripe. When the fire is sufficient, it will be beautiful.]

[The best pork in Huangzhou is as cheap as dirt. The rich are unwilling to eat it, and the poor don’t know how to cook it. When they get up in the morning, they have two bowls, and they are so full that they don’t care.]

Zong Yi was confused when he heard it, especially the first half.

If you don’t have a sister, when will you wait?

"Sister, sister, sister, translate the first sentence." Zong Yi skipped the asking stage and directly issued the order.

Meng Xin was in such a rare good mood that she almost responded in a song: "Wash, wash, wash, wash, clean the pots first. Control the heat, control the heat, and then lower the heat. Don't rush him, don't rush him, the heat is enough.

It’s so delicious.”

"Oh, you two are so annoying. Can you please stop playing riddles here about what you want to eat?" Zong Yi became anxious: "If you don't tell me what's inside, I'm going to open it myself and take a look."

Meng Xinzhi gently pulled Zongyi's hand that was hanging by the stove, making sure that Zongyi would not be burned, and then began to ask: "Didn't I just say that this is a pork song? What do you think?

Thinking about it, what should the song be called when translated into ancient Chinese?"

Zong Yi thought for a moment and came up with the answer: "Pork song."

"Almost, very close." Meng Xinzhi said no more, "This poem is called "Ode to Pork", and it describes the standard way of making Dongpo Pork."

"Then why isn't it called "Ode to Dongpo Meat"?" Zong Yi was puzzled.

"Dongpo Pork is an [honorific title] given by future generations in memory of the ancestor of this dish. He certainly wouldn't have called it that at the time." Meng Xinzhi explained in a gentle voice.

After answering Zong Yi, Meng Xinzhi began to care about Zong Ji again: "Didn't dad have a stye? How dare he cook such a big pot of meat at night. Aren't you afraid that your mother will get up to settle the score with you tomorrow?"

"Well, well, layman Dongpo can eat meat even if he has pink eye. What does it mean that your father and I have a small wheat swollen on my eye that I can't even see?"

"That's right." Meng Xinzhi and Zongji looked at each other,

Then, the two of them laughed heartily at the same time.

Zong Ji laughed so hard that his eyebrows flew up, he covered his eyes and said: "I have red eyes, maybe I can't eat what I say. I want to listen, but I can't speak."

Meng Xinzhi smiled so hard that her eyebrows curled up, and she continued: "I and I are mouths, and he and I are eyes. How can he be thick, and how can I be thin? I can't let him take away my food because of his troubles."

Zong Ji and Meng Xin's words resonated endlessly, forming a barrier.

This made Zongyi very angry.

Normally when she is away, her sister and her father would "open a barrier" to make her mother jealous. But now the little princess comes to the scene and dares to engage in such a small group. Isn't it a bit too much? I really thought she wouldn't dare to file a complaint.

?

"That's enough for you two!" Zong Yi stood up and put his hands on his hips.
To be continued...