The small station approached step by step, and there were still only fixed objects in the visible range, and there were no living figures. Maybe gone, on the road, the mountains in the distance are quietly looking down on the lonely woman walking in the valley with a backpack on her back - the shadow of the mountain makes it gray, the sun makes it bright, and the powerful legs make every foot fall solidly. The road ahead is endless.

Farewell, however, is a formality. That is, if it is one form, it can be replaced by another. For example, putting a note on the table in the station office, writing a few words of thanks, and ending with "goodbye" is also a polite goodbye? There's no need to say a few words in person.

It's good to go, save the trouble of seeing you off, and you don't need to waste your brain thinking about saying goodbye - it's awkward, and it's refreshing. When I was an adult, I hated sending, I didn't like people to give me off, I didn't like to send someone else, I was too clumsy about the number of send-offs. Whether it is sent or sent, in short, when the sky is about to be separated, there is no way to organize a proper send-off. So he was depressed, and when he was depressed, he got on fire, and when he got on fire, his head was dizzy, which was worse than the hangover after drinking eight taels of old white.

In the years outside the mountain, I would sometimes be invited to hang out with old friends from afar for a few days, and when I was happy, I would make a high-profile posture like a wind and rain, so that my friends could experience and experience what I brought to everyone. But when I go, almost all of them go secretly, and I don't feel ashamed and panicked, and the reason in my heart is strong—brothers, everyone is busy, don't bother! Fortunately, my friends are also accustomed to my deep-seated vices, and they can all sincerely - let him go! But I'm still enthusiastic about greeting. If you have a good temper, you can also come to the airport, station, and wharf, and you can also be happy and happy. But, when you're leaving, I'm sorry brother, let me find a way to get away with this send-off time.

A few steps up to the platform, I could smell the aroma of stir-fried vegetables.

The smell of the food made me dizzy slightly, but I immediately cleared up, and then my pace picked up automatically, like a breeze—similar to the feeling I had when I was a kid when I went to the theater with my movie ticket to watch a long-awaited movie, and the trembling urge was like a hungry shark smelling blood.

I quickly finished the platform, entered the station office, passed the door in the station room, stepped into the aisle, and the left hand was diagonally facing the kitchen door. I slowed down.

From the first nose smelling the smell of vegetables, I was sure that this was not an illusion bewitched by wishes, this was a real thing, and it must be her who made this real thing, and it was impossible to be involved in the fox spirits in the mountains, so before I entered the kitchen, I had to put the reins on the excitement that had risen, and put a camouflage on the joy and color, so that after entering the kitchen, I could put the demeanor of "it should be like this" well.

Turning into the kitchen, I saw that there were already two dishes on the table, and she was pouring the third dish from the sauté pan into the plate. When I walked to the table, she brought a third dish to the table. I looked at her, and I didn't put on a look of "it should be so", but I wanted to say a few polite words, but she only glanced at me, and then hurriedly turned back to the stove, and quickly brushed the spoon back on the stove, and picked up the small iron basin with oil. There is also a pile of cut vegetables waiting to be fried on the cutting board.

I feel that she is not in a hurry to fry the last dish, but deliberately to block my mouth, and her series of vocal and colorful actions are just to say to me: watch if you like, eat if you like, and talk less nonsense that doesn't hurt or itch.

A glance at the dishes on the plate, you can see that her cooking skills are not low, the dishes are fried verdant and ridged, and there is no wilting yellow, help is help, leaves are leaves, red and green contrast, oily and translucent, with a strong attractant effect, I want to move chopsticks when I see it. Thinking about my messy pull that doesn't understand the heat, the quality of the juice and the water, and then thinking about the praise last night, I couldn't help but gasp.

With the sound of bursting the pot, the symphony of the shovel and the sauté spoon played. She holds the shovel in her left hand and her right hand, and her flexible thin waist helps to combine the indescribable rhythmic beauty in front of the rushing green smoke. If this were a silent operation, I would prefer to see her as a hand-woven silk woman rather than a smoky cook.

To my surprise, she turned the spoon she held in her left hand upside down, just like the chefs I had seen in the back kitchen of a restaurant. But where did she get that kind of wrist power from a chef? Although her whole body is full of strength, her wrist is weak in my eyes, and I feel that I can't hold on to a few times. There is also that slender hand, playing the harp to ensure that it can be competent for every set of chords, but holding the handle of the frying spoon that is very difficult to hold, I am really worried about flying out of the hand. The point is that I don't know how to do it! I tried it, but it was very unsuccessful, and I almost turned the dish out of the spoon. It's a pity for my wringing wrist and gripping the handle!

I think of what people say: The spoon is used skillfully and smoothly, not in the thick of the arm, and the strength is large, if you don't use this skillful and smooth well, Guan Gong is also in vain. Don't look at the 72-pound Qinglong Yanyue knife, dancing so much that you only see the knife and don't see people, one yard is one yard, each makes its own strength, not universal. Although the facts are in front of me, my previous preconceptions still make me feel that this kind of cooking skills are very incompatible with her style. How could she be a woman who could go to the kitchen? Didn't God give this and not to him? Isn't it true that people can't combine many excellent things in one? What programming went wrong, the Creator of the Underworld?

After the fourth set was served, I was still standing in a daze. She motioned for me to sit down, and then uncovered the small iron pot placed in the corner of the table, and a stream of rice fragrance rushed to my nose, and I endured the saliva again and again, and finally rushed through the limit of forbearance.

She used chopsticks to loosen the steaming white rice and loose rice, filled a full bowl and put it in front of me, and said, "Eat quickly, it's early in the morning, and it's time to be hungry if you don't do anything."

As soon as I sat down, I immediately stood up again and made a silent gesture to invite her to take a seat. If you change your overalls to a tuxedo, I think it will be a bit of a high-class person. But I had no intention of imitating the tricks of the upper class, and the silence was also out of helplessness—my saliva had already drowned my tongue, and when I opened my mouth, it would definitely flow out of the elder.

"You eat first, and I'll make a soup." She said.

Looking at my back as I walked towards the stove, I swallowed my saliva and sat down again. But I didn't move the chopsticks, I had to wait for her, I had to wait for her to put the chopsticks down. This is not only out of courtesy, but also out of respect, but also out of ...... Grateful. But my stomach was rumbling uncontrollably, and I was afraid that the sound of hunger would reach her ears.

After she brought the soup to the table, she filled half a bowl of rice herself, sat down, pinched the chopsticks and held the bowl, looked at me for a while, and then stretched out the chopsticks to pick up the food and put it into her mouth. If the glance is "all in place, ready", then stretching out the chopsticks to pick up the vegetables is the starting gun. Okay, let's eat.

The taste of the dish is really good, but it is not useless. It is in the eyes, and it is in the mouth. This is not a blind man's meal, so you have to use it to arouse your appetite first, and then use it to satisfy your tongue. Exquisite!

The first few chopsticks, I was still pretending to be a gentleman's reserve, but after these chopsticks fell into the stomach, one chopstick was more ruthless than the other, and one bite was bigger than the other. If I hadn't kept reminding myself, I might have eaten with a rough sound. I'm really hungry, this morning, there is nothing physically, but the endless entanglement of mental power has really caused a lot of consumption.

The first bowl of rice was quickly finished, and I pondered with the empty bowl how to serve the second bowl decently. She put down the dishes and chopsticks, dragged the empty bowl I was holding, and filled it with the following words:

"I've been out here for most of the day, and if I don't eat three full bowls, is it worthy of your stomach? The bowl of rice is also thoughtful, like to make it difficult for yourself? ”

I took the bowl, and the shame and guilt that came together made me unable to find even the right words.

That is, a big man is so difficult for himself to eat, what else can he be free and easy on? Women will not be accustomed to such a man, and a woman like her who is popular will be even more unaccustomed to it. I think that the man in her eyes should be bold and daring, where there are so many details and cautiousness. A man should be Spartacus, not a yin-yang person on the stage who curls his fingers and thins his throat, looking forward and backward. Can you be regarded as a male veteran, people have given you a new title that can wake up your ears, is it very inappropriate?

Slowly, slowly, slowly, she had something to say: "I've been out here for most of the day", isn't it "Why have you been out for so long today?" It's not quite the same as what you said yesterday, but you found a problem on the way? ”

I regret that I shouldn't have told her about patrolling the road yesterday without words. The time, place, and inaction of nothing caught up with the narrative of elementary school students. At this moment, the effective way to hide the weakness of the heart is to eat with her head down, and her eyes are lowered when she picks up vegetables, and the eyeliner does not exceed the height of her hand holding vegetables.

The third bowl is served by myself (usually, I only eat two bowls). First, it is particularly delicious and needs to be in the stomach; Second, to show my manhood, by the way, to achieve the highest value she said - three bowls. to show compliance.

I was not hungry and panicked, and I thought more about how she could start the fire so accurately - that is, let you eat the freshly cooked, and let you not wait for a long time. It's lunch time, and if you prepare the ingredients in advance, it's not difficult to do. The question is, how can you be so accurate without seeing me? Either it's by accident or for some other reason. Could it be that somewhere in the station, she saw my appearance? It is impossible in the kitchen and in the room, because the kitchen and the room are blocked by the station office, and there is no view of the southern bend at all. The small station is so large, and the places where I can see me are all in my eyes, but I am not in the range where I can see me, and I can see people.

Either there's something wrong with my senses. Actually, when I appeared, she was standing in front of the south window of the station office, but I didn't feel it. This is very unlikely, but it cannot be ruled out. If so, how can we explain it? Could it be that she has the ability to surpass my senses? After this ability is exerted, my feeling will enter a sinking state, and she in a high vacancy cannot be reached? Suppose she was actually standing in front of the south window of the station room when I appeared, so did she transcend my feelings through her thoughts, or through some kind of behavior?

Who the hell is she? What kind of unfathomable will be behind her revelations?

Before I came back, she went to the station office and stayed for a while. As I hurried past the station office, I was told that she had cleaned the room.

Station Office...... South window of the station office...... ...... the door of the station room, I secretly trembled: I should have seen it, how could I not see it, after the night, the horizontal batch disappeared, and the paste traces left behind were more conspicuous and intriguing than the horizontal batch itself. No matter how you say that the couplets are missing, they are like a good body with a missing head. This is not a mutilation of an ordinary nature, and it is very easy to hang people inexplicably.

Don't think so: who is leaving this void to fill? Whose knowledge is this going to test?

She didn't mention it until she finished eating, not even hinting at it, as if the missing horizontal batch had never happened. Probably she wanted to turn the page of this boring one. Thank God! Whether there is a horizontal batch or not, it does not reject her. But I removed the horizontal criticism to show my attitude, this person's small station,

For this meal, she only ate half of the bowl she served. I'm secretly glad I didn't have much to do. While I was standing and waiting for her to open the table, I tried to help her get the meal ready, but I wasn't sure how much to serve. Politely speaking, it should be a full bowl, but her impeccable figure made me waver in politeness. When I was out in the mountains, I knew a few women of her size who shared the same secret to staying in shape: regular exercise and a small amount of starchy food. The latter point is very important, if you don't strictly control starchy foods, you can't burn off excess calories in your body just by exercising. If you don't consume it, it will accumulate fat.

Last night, I served her a flat bowl. At that time, I also thought about this problem, but I thought that she must have overdrawn a lot of calories on the way, and this flat bowl would be filled in if it was flat, and it would not cause any accumulation consequences. She didn't say anything, and finished the flat bowl. But I can't speculate on how many calories she's burned this morning, and I don't know how much starchy food she's going to fill it with. Rather than being inaccurate, it is better to have more than one thing, so as not to annoy people.

She eats less for dinner, and the rice will not go up to the bottom of the bowl, which is not as much as the newly weaned kitten. If this is to be seen by people who don't know what's going on, you have to think like this: What else do you have to eat, it's better not to eat!

Three days passed, and she didn't mention that she was leaving, and took the initiative to take on the work of making lunch and dinner (I still make breakfast, and I have to get up early anyway, so I did it). At dinner on the third day, she said that she had to work hard and couldn't live here for nothing. "It's useless, it's restless, isn't that the thing?" She asked. It sounded quite serious, but the watery eyes that I didn't dare to look at were full of such things. I am like a wooden porter, facing the eldest lady who expresses her opinions, I only dare to have ears, but I dare not have a mouth.

What can I say, a fairy-like charming woman, if you can stop here, you deserve the great merit of Houlu, but unfortunately I can't get Houlu to offset it equally. In contrast, I took advantage of a lot of money, and I should have prepared a few pillars of incense to thank all the mountain gods. Do you know, your breath, your words, your posture, exist here for a minute, merit for a minute, count your fingers, your merits are already high and deep, how can you eat in vain, live in vain, and receive nothing in vain? Even if you take a step back from your words, here, why can't you eat and live for nothing? Here, I have the final say, I just say it's okay, I'll be arbitrary, who dares to have a temper. Honestly, I have the strength, my hands and feet are also diligent, I can make three meals a day for you (not just breakfast), help you clean your room and wash Shabu Shabu is also willing to serve, as long as you stay here comfortably, stay not tired, I am willing to put down the shelf of the lord of a station for you, and wait for you like the female head of the matrilineal clan!

A thousand words in one sentence: Whatever I can do, it's all right, as long as you can stay. If I don't violate the organizational rules, I'm willing to say this: Charming woman, you really should be my leader, and you are the one who has the final say in this small station.