pastoral pretty girl

Chapter 43 Is it an illusion?
"Lady, is there blood on Dabao's face?"

Seeing Song Qingge staring at him, Xiao Jinyi reached out and touched his face, curiously.

"You—" Song Qingge woke up in shock, and looked at Xiao Jinyi in disbelief, "Say what you just said again!"

"Miss, is there blood on Dabao's face?" Xiao Jinyi was very obedient, without asking the reason, he said what he just said again.

"Not this sentence, but the previous sentence, think about it." Song Qingge was a little anxious, as if she wanted to make sure of something.

Xiao Jinyi frowned his pretty eyebrows, his eyes showed a bit of bewilderment, he opened his mouth, and finally shook his head, "Dabao can't remember, it's so strange, I can't think of what I just said."

Hearing this, Song Qingge sighed, touched Xiao Jinyi's hair lovingly, and led him into the room.

She must be hallucinating. When people are too sad to collapse, they are prone to hallucinations.

Although Xiao Jinyi's brain is not working well now, she is also her all support. When she watched Xiao Jinyi run back anxiously from the mountain and hug her to comfort her, she subconsciously regarded him as her support.

So that sentence was imagined by her, imagining what Xiao Jinyi would say.

His voice has always been clear and clean, like a brook singing in a mountain stream, not the kind of mature and mellow voice at all.

After Song Qingge cried for a while, her emotions had calmed down. This world of the weak cannot tolerate the weak, let alone tears.

Xiao Jinyi hugged her and wiped the blood off her face, and his body was also covered in blood.

The two of them changed into clean clothes, and Song Qingge went to the yard and picked up the chicken that had been separated from the corpse, "Dabao, my sister will give you chicken stewed mushrooms tonight."

"Okay!" Xiao Jinyi immediately became happy when he heard that he wanted to eat meat, and ran to the yard to jump up and down.

"It's a pity that all the blood has flowed out, and there is nothing left."

Song Qingge boiled a pot of hot water, poured it on the chicken, scalded it and began to pluck the hair, sighing while plucking.

Chicken blood plus chicken gizzards, chicken hearts, chicken livers and other internal organs... boil it and thicken it with starch, you can make a big pot of chicken mud, the taste is so delicious, it makes people drool.

She remembers that when she was a child in the countryside of Northeast China, this dish was her favorite.

Drink a bowl in the cold winter, warm up your whole body, put some fragrant rice in the bottom of the bowl, the taste...

pity!such a pity!

Song Qingge repeatedly lamented that such delicious food was wasted in order to scare that woman.

The chicken blood of a chicken can make a small pot of chicken mud, which is enough for her and Dabao to improve.

After the chicken feathers are plucked clean, the belly is ripped open. With the experience of killing chickens, these are nothing, just cut it open.

The hens that can lay eggs are raised very fat, and when cut open, thick golden oil is revealed. Song Qingge carefully cleaned them out. These are good things. After the chicken is finished, it will still be very fragrant when used for cooking.

In the belly of the chicken, Song Qingge also found three yellow eggs. If they were not dead, Dabao would be able to eat fresh eggs.

Song Qingge cleaned up very carefully, not willing to waste even a little oil.

I remember that in my previous life, I was so careful in order to lose weight, but I dared to throw away the thick oil, for fear of eating fat.

The same chicken, living in a different world, facing a different life, has two totally different ways of treating it...

(End of this chapter)