After breakfast, Mosilaire and Winnie took the time to tend to the crops in the base.

The herbs that had been transplanted had adapted well in the cultivation box, but most of the strange berries that Mosilaire had planted a long time ago had not sprouted, and only a few weak seedlings were left wilting on the soil, and it was estimated that they would be completely finished in a few days.

It's a pity that Mosilaire had planned the use of the billions she earned.

The sweet potato seedlings planted on the side were growing vigorously, and soon some of the newly grown cabbage were as tall as the cabbage.

The seedlings grown in the outer planting area are smaller, but they are also vigorous and have covered this small area of land with lush greenery. It seems that Winnie really took good care of them.

After that, Mosilaire took the old knife to the laboratory she had found about twenty meters away from the main body of the base.

After Mosiliel demonstrated his amazing "special skills" in front of the old knife, the full view of the laboratory was revealed behind the mechanical gates.

The old knife was first shocked by the luxurious silver bricks under his feet, and then the various high-end, advanced, expensive and sophisticated instruments that greeted him completely plunged him into a kind of frenzy - he had never seen so many good instruments in his life - not to mention that they were now quietly placed in this beautiful room, waiting for the arrival of a new owner.

And he, he's the new owner of these little cuties, what a blessing!

His favorite thing in his life is scientific research and scientific research equipment, even his old, old garbage old knives are regarded as treasures, and he has always refused to allow anyone to touch these equipment, which has become increasingly rare since the nuclear war - even his favorite apprentice must not use it without permission, otherwise he will have to be scolded by him for a bloody head and then add a few beautiful shoe prints on his buttocks.

The old knife who couldn't help but walk into the laboratory stretched out his hand tremblingly, wanting to touch and touch a powerful advanced test bench in the center of the laboratory. But he soon realized that his hands were still stained with some of the gravy from his breakfast, so he wiped and wiped his clothes on his own clothes before placing his right hand lightly on top of it—as if he were touching not the cold machine, but the skin of his old lover.

Mosilaire couldn't help but get goosebumps, and finally just reminded the old knife to remember to have lunch and turned around to tidy up the room for this guy, and I don't know if the old knife who had begun to bury his head in the tinkering heard it.

But she soon found out, because the old knife had not been seen during lunch.

After ruling out the unreliable possibility that the old knife was lost, Mosilaire also went to call the old knife several times, but he would say the same thing in the same tone every time:

"I'll be here soon."

In the end, Winnie took a hot package of survival food to the old knife who was excitedly reading the materials and documents stored in various experimental computers. Luckily, Old Knife showed up at dinner time - it seems that he still remembers having dinner.

During dinner, the old knife kept muttering all kinds of strange terms, even the fried greens and cabbage and cassava soup could not stop his mouth—some of the words Mosilaire had never heard of at all—which may have something to do with her habit of sleeping in class, and Winnie was more like listening to a book from heaven, and the eyes of the old knife who looked at the demonic old knife were full of question marks in bold and bold.

After the meal, Mosilaire only vaguely asked the old knife to focus on the technology of weapons and armor first, and it is best to master the recipe of hydroponic nutrient solution as soon as possible.

The old knife said that patting his chest and saying that this is not a problem, because what he has to do is not to study from scratch, but to absorb knowledge from the materials and records left by the first colonists of the base and transform and absorb it, so the process will be much faster than his own headless flies.

After dinner, Mosillaire took the old knife to check his new bedroom, this room was one of a long line of independent bedrooms, relatively close to the base gate and barn, so that the old knife could eat and go to the toilet - until the water and sewage systems at the base were repaired, Winnie and the others would have to use the small hut built by Mosilele.

Old Knife was obviously a little absent-minded when he visited his new bedroom, and Mosilele knew that the research freak was still thinking about the valuable information he had been longing for at this time, so she quickly let him go after telling him to take a break—she knew Old Knife too well that if it were not restricted, Old Knife would have read all night until dawn, but the clever Miss Mosilaire was not very worried about such a thing—she had her own way of avoiding the stupid things that Old Knife might do if she had fallen into a frenzy.

At eleven o'clock in the evening, the brightly lit laboratory suddenly fell into darkness, and the old knife came out of the mechanical gate before the mechanical gate closed in confusion, and saw Mosilaire looking at him angrily: "Do you know what time it is, Mr. Old Knife?" ”

"Ah...... Nine? The old knife recalls the last time he looked at the lower right corner of the lab computer.

"yes, it looks like my bracelet is broken?" Mosilaire lit up the bracelet and showed the "23:02" on it to the old knife.

The old knife scratched his head a little embarrassedly and did not speak.

Mosilaire educated him earnestly, and explained that if there were no special circumstances, the laboratory would be powered off at eleven o'clock in the evening and continue until eight o'clock in the morning, and finally let the old knife hurry to wash up and go to bed.

With one more colonist in the base, it is likely that the food stored will not be enough to support them until the first batch of sweet potatoes are ripe, so Mosilaire and Winnie have reopened a small vegetable garden to grow some vegetables with a relatively short growth cycle, and sometimes Mosilaire will go out to collect berries and wild vegetables when there are fewer zombies around, and hope to find some wild potatoes for transplantation and cultivation - but the wild potatoes were not found, but a small patch of wild garlic and bracken was found in a col.

Several sprouting wild garlic plants were transplanted into the base planting area by Moschelare, and the bracken growing in the shade was pinched down by Moschelaire. Mosileelle was delighted by the tender bracken, which was piled up in small packets of moschelle, which weighed about half a pound, and in addition to the bracken, she also had some freshly collected dandelions, amaranth and other wild herbs that Mosilele planned to mix cold or make soup.

Looks like Winnie and Old Knife are going to have their fill tonight.

The old knife, who was sitting obediently on the dining chair before dinner, had been swallowing his saliva as he stared at the plates of brightly colored wild vegetables, and those damn sweet flavors had been playfully teasing his nose.

The old knife has regained his sanity a little from his initial thirst for knowledge and fanaticism - at least now he will take the initiative to eat lunch - which should be a big step forward for the old knife.

His injuries were almost healed, so his appetite became greater, and the simple stir-fried vegetables barely satisfied his mouth, and now he looked forward to dinner almost only every day, because dinner was the most sumptuous, and Mosilele would go out of his way to prepare some delicious dishes.

In fact, he doubted that the young lady had the ability to read minds, otherwise why would she always be able to make all sorts of wild vegetables he had never seen before taste of his dreams?

Old Knife looked at Mosilaire, who was tinkering with new dishes in the kitchen, and his eyes were full of anticipation.

Winnie, who was beside her, also saw Mosilaire taking out a handful of bracken with some slime attached to it from her bag - Winnie knew bracken, as did the amaranth and dandelion that had been served cold and boiled in soup, but Winnie didn't like bracken because it tasted bitter and astringent, and had a disgusting mucus.

Unless she was dying of starvation, Winnie could swallow it with a frown.

Mosileelle, who was cleaning the bracken, quickly realized what Winnie was thinking—if you could see Winnie's wrinkled face, you would probably be able to guess what's going on in Winnie's little head.

"What's the matter, my dear little princess, your expression looks like you're constipated." Mosilaire stopped what he was doing, turned his head and made a not-so-elegant joke to Winnie, "Oh, please forgive me for being rude and rude. ”

She winked playfully at Winnie again, but Winnie didn't care about Mosilare's joke, but frowned and pointed to a large handful of bracken in Mosilare's hand and said, "This is not delicious!" ”

Not tasty? At this moment, Mosileelle was stunned, originally she thought that Winnie just disliked the strange appearance of bracken, but she didn't expect it to be because of its "bad taste".

But soon she figured it out. If you hadn't mastered the cooking of bracken, it would have tasted strange and disgusting to match its alien plant-like appearance.

But who is she? She is the "Chef" who is famous in the world of Seventeen Shine - although this nickname was given by her "friend" and has a certain insult and contempt, Mosilele does not care much about the opinions of pretentious fools, because smart people never argue with fools, and Mosilere is a smart person.

As for her true friends, she has always been very gentle and patient and willing to answer their doubts. So Mosilaire put down the bracken, crossed his hands on his waist, and stared at Miss Winnie solemnly: "Ma'am, do you believe that there is magic in this world?" ”

Winnie's innocent little face showed hope, and her big eyes stared at Mosilaire's face: "I don't believe it. ”

"Huh?" Pretending to be serious, Mosilaire was stunned for a moment: "Ahhh...... Ah, that's right if you don't believe it. What we believe in is rigorous science. Miss Winnie, then, if you learn and master the proper technique, these slimy brackens will become incredibly tasty and delicious. ”

Winnie had always trusted Mosilaire, so she lay quietly by the stove, watched as she carefully washed away the slime and fine fluff that had attached to it, and then put the washed bracken in a large bowl and blanched it in boiling water for a few minutes.

Then Mosileelle began to pour into the pot the duck fat she had collected last time, and then added a handful of hot dried chilies, a few crushed wild garlic cloves, and a little peppercorns, and when the fat was hot and the pot began to waft a strong aroma, she poured a large bowl of bracken into the pot, and began to stir-fry the tender bracken, which began to rattle as soon as she touched the fat, and as she stir-fried, the bracken gradually began to soften, and even the color became darker.

Finally, Mosilaire sprinkled a handful of snow-white fine salt on top and added a spoonful of sweet sugar, so that most of the peculiar-looking bracken rose to a very strong and stimulating aroma.

When Mosilele ceased fire and plated, the whole kitchen and dining room were filled with an indescribably wonderful smell - Winnie was dumbfounded, and the old knife was dripping onto his pants - but fortunately he wiped it off with his hand in time, and wiped it on his shirt without a trace, so that no one could see the joke.

Mosilaire brought the last dish of the evening to the table and sat down with Winnie for dinner—their staple was still the food bag, but tonight's table was filled with side dishes.

In addition to the hot three-serving packaged survival food, there was also a pot of sweet dandelion soup in the center of the table, surrounded by a plate of red amaranth, a plate of braised green cabbage, a few pieces of white and fat steamed cassava, and a large bowl of hot fried bracken that had just come out of the pot.