Qi Ling saw that Uncle Zhao stood in a daze since the two of them left, knowing that he was surprised by the attitude of others towards him.

In fact, there are so many wicked people in this world, most of them are kind, but Uncle Zhao has closed himself off, he never comes into contact with the outside world, so he takes it for granted that everyone will laugh at him, laugh at his legs, and laugh at him for being a useless person.

The reaction of these two men was like a few drops of nectar falling on a dying plant in the desert, and although it could not be revived immediately, it gave it hope.

Uncle Zhao felt that he used to be like a dark room, and he couldn't even shine in a little light, but what Qi Ling said along the way just now was like punching a few small holes in the wall and penetrating a few faint rays of light into the house, but he still hid in the corner of the house and turned a blind eye.

It was as if the two of them had knocked a hole open and shot a large beam of light into it, so that he could no longer ignore it.

Seeing that Uncle Zhao's face had more brilliance, Qi Ling was also happy for him, "Uncle Zhao, this is my family's firewood room, you can cook here." ”

Uncle Zhao limped into the firewood room, and saw that on the table and the board, the vegetables had been washed, and the pots and pans were ready.

"Hehe, I'm afraid that you will be a little too busy alone, so I made some preparations in advance, and I hope you don't think I'm too busy." Qi Ling said with a smile behind Uncle Zhao.

Whenever she faced Uncle Zhao, she always had a smile on her face, as if nothing could make her sad.

Uncle Zhao knew her mind and felt very ironing, this girl was really like what her daughter-in-law said, she was a good girl who thought about people.

"Thank you." Although these three words are very simple, it is not easy for Uncle Zhao to say them.

He walked over to the board, put the knife on the table away, and pulled a package out of his bosom.

Uncle Zhao carefully opened the wrapped layers of cloth, and inside was a knife that was already a little rusty.

This knife is an old fellow who used to accompany him, in the past, he had to wipe it clean with oil every day, and it was extremely sharp, but it has also fallen rusty over the years, just like his heart,

Uncle Zhao asked Qi Ling for a whetstone, put the knife on it and began to sharpen, but although he held the knife with both hands back and forth, he had to rely on his leg to exert force, but his habitual right leg was not strong, so he stumbled when grinding.

Qi Ling took the knife in his hand and began to sharpen it for him, saying as he grinded.

"Uncle Zhao, are you not able to use your right leg, then you can exercise more in the future to exercise your left leg, in fact, what's the big deal, I've seen a person who has both hands amputated before, but he trains himself to use his feet instead of hands, what others can do with his hands, he can do it with his feet."

Qi Ling said this very naturally and frankly, which Uncle Zhao had never heard before.

Since the leg accident, everyone deliberately did not mention his leg, for fear of poking his sadness, but Qi Ling said it directly, but it made Uncle Zhao feel very comfortable and didn't need to mind anything.

He even thought of the person Qi Ling said in his heart, would there be anyone in this world who would use his feet instead of his hands? Then he was just lame and had some obstacles in walking, and compared to him, it was not a big deal.

Uncle Zhao was thinking so, and Qi Ling sharpened his knife.

She put the knife on the board, pointed to the knife that had been removed from the rust and shiny again at this time, looked at Uncle Zhao's eyes, and said word by word: "You see that this knife is rusty, it only needs to be sharpened, and it is still a good knife, and that person is the same, after sharpening it, he is still a good man." ”

After speaking, Qi Ling stopped mentioning these topics and began to urge Uncle Zhao to cook.

She knows that people's ideas are very deep-rooted, especially for a patient, to change him, it is not possible to do it overnight, only let him feel and think for himself, which is the fastest and most fundamental.

Seeing that Uncle Zhao had already started chopping vegetables, knowing that he might be a little uncomfortable with him, Qi Ling was trying to find some excuse to walk away.

Uncle Zhao suddenly said, "Miss Qi, can you stay and help me out." ”

"Of course you can, I still want to steal a few hands from you!" Qi Ling replied cheerfully.

Uncle Zhao has begun to change now!

However, he is really a good hand in the kitchen, and after hurriedly looking at the various dishes in the firewood room, he set the menu for today's noon.

A secret braised pork, a big mess of stew, and a dish of egg and mushroom soup, served with rice.

Qi Ling saw that when he cut the meat, he was still a little uncomfortable at the first few times, and the thickness of the cut was uneven, but the more he cut, the more he found the feeling, and his hands moved quickly.

When a large piece of pork belly arrived in his hand, it became a mahjong square of almost the same size, not even the thickness was bad, and it was a big pot full of stacks.

As soon as the hot water boiled on the fire, Uncle Zhao poured the meat into the pot with a meat basin, but he hadn't done anything all these years, and his arms had no strength, so Qi Ling saw this and carried it with him and poured the meat into the hot water.

Pieces of evenly sized pieces of meat were in boiling water, and the blood and blood foam that were boiled out were all skimmed out little by little by Uncle Zhao with a spoon.

After seeing that the meat was almost cooked, he took out a chopstick and pricked it on the piece of meat, and after seeing that it could be easily inserted, but it would not penetrate through, he started to scoop up all the meat floating in the pot again.

Then Uncle Zhao passed the meat through the cold water, raised the oil pot, poured a little oil, put in a large handful of sugar, and asked Qi Lingjiang to pull the bellows, control the low fire, and fry the sugar little by little.

At this time, the inside of the pot seemed to be doing some kind of trick, and the original snow-white sugar slowly turned into a red liquid, and it was extremely viscous.

Qi Ling knew that this process was called stir-frying sugar color, and it was to make the color of the braised pork turn red and look more appetizing.

It's just that people in different places have different ways to change the color of braised pork, some are fried sugar like Uncle Zhao, some use soy sauce, some use red bean curd like Qi Ling's mother, and some even use red yeast rice.

After frying the sugar, Uncle Zhao poured the pork belly just now into it and stir-fried it for a long time, waited until each piece of meat changed color, scooped several spoonfuls of broth from the pot where the meat was cooked just now, poured it in, put the seasoning, covered it and began to simmer.

The small firewood room was full of the smell of fragrant meat, which hooked out all the greedy worms in Qi Ling's stomach.

Finally, when Uncle Zhao lifted the lid of the pot, the meat in the pot shook slightly with the heat, and it was very delicious to look at.