Interstellar Farming: The sick and weak male protagonist is struggling to survive on money

Chapter 109

In front of the cabin, there are pots.

These pots were bought by Fu Yunhe in a hurry, and there was really no place to put them.

At this time, Nian Shutong had already cut up the pig. She brought a few strips of pork belly and said to Zhang Hui, "Cut the pork into half-centimeter-thick slices, sprinkle with a little fine salt, and marinate for a while."

Zhang Hui clearly took the pork belly and went to work.

Nian Shutong took another piece of plum meat, handed it to Fu Yunhe and said, "Use this piece of meat to stew potatoes at night, the same method as stewing chicken."

"Okay." Fu Yunhe nodded in understanding.

Nian Shutong brought over four more pork legs, which can be smoked into ham, and she was going to find some twigs to bring back.

It will take a house to smoke the meat until then, though.

"Haha, build a simple wooden house, I want bacon!"

"okay!"

Haha gladly accepted the order.

Nian Shutong was almost done with the arrangements, so he drove the aircraft out.

She was going to find some twigs for bacon, and she was going to pick some soybeans.

However, it seems that the manpower is still not enough.

Drying the soy sauce, as well as the tofu she was about to make, required people to watch.

I don't know if the game that Dao Dao said can win?If she wins, she can afford a little wages and recruit more people.

At this time, the reviewers of the poetry competition that Nian Shutong was thinking about had pain in their eyes.

Some quaint ancient poetry buildings, on the third floor.

some office.

"Hey, what's all this?" A man wearing glasses pushed his frame and said to the white-bearded old man opposite him, "Listen."

The white-bearded old man laughed and said, "Young man, you are too angry. Read it."

The young man read out with disgust.

"One, two, three, four, five, patriotism is me. Six, seven, eighty, ninety, serving the country with all my blood."

"Old Yu, look, this is trying to force me to vomit blood! Don't the people who submitted this article know what level they are?"

Yu Lao was also heartbroken, but he still said calmly: "It's okay, a heart is always good."

The young man didn't say much, and continued to read the manuscript.

No!

eye pain!

Heart hurts!
Oh my god, there is a typo!
The young man felt that he had reached his limit and was about to get up and drink some water.

the last one.

Young man, look at the name on the mail: earth bar
What a ghost name, there is no poetic charm of a cultural person at all.

He has given up hope, grabbing the water glass with one hand, and casually clicking on the mail with the other.

"Rushing to the crown, leaning against the corridor, the Xiaoxiao rain rests."

This casual young man dropped his water glass with a bang, and read the first sentence again.

it is good!Absolutely!
He took off his glasses to see better.

Don't doubt, Xingji basically doesn't have myopia, he just wants to look good.

"Raging to the crown, leaning against the lanai, the drizzle rests. Looking up, looking up to the sky and screaming, with a strong heart. Thirty years of fame and dust, eight thousand miles of road clouds and moons. Don't wait for nothing. The boy's head is white, empty and sad."

"Empty sorrow, empty sorrow."

"Xiao Ming, what are you talking about?" Mr. Yu looked at the young man who had taken off his glasses, Xiao Ming, sweating profusely and short of breath.

Is this sick from anger?

Hey. Young people just lack experience.Old Yu got up, walked behind Xiao Ming, patted him on the shoulder and said, "Go to the rest meeting, I'll take a look for you."

As soon as Yu Lao finished speaking, he stared at the screen and stopped moving.

Thirty fame, dust and soil, eight thousand miles, clouds and moon.

What kind of righteousness this is, only people with great ambitions and noble thoughts can write such poems.

(End of this chapter)