There is an inn in the sky

Chapter 58 Infinite Single Loop
on the plane.

Yan Qingkong was eating an airplane meal.

"Look, that man ate so cleanly that he didn't even leave a single grain of rice behind, tsk tsk." Someone beside him whispered to his companion and gestured to Yan Qingkong.

Airplane meals are not very tasty, some people just took a couple of casual bites, just to deal with their stomachs.

"Isn't this too clean?"

His companion stretched out his head to see it, and was slightly taken aback.

Although their voices were small, Yan Qingkong heard them, and just smiled at them, saying: "Food is hard to come by, so we should cherish it."

In that village, when he really understood, he cherished food.

When the two heard it, they felt a little embarrassed.

Yan Qingkong didn't say much, just closed his eyes and rested in his seat, waiting for the plane to land.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, the plane landed in Donghu City, and then he went back to the apartment to wash up, and then walked into the Longevity Inn.

In the past few days, his originally fair skin has become a little tanned.

He stood on the steps, looking at the sea of ​​clouds like cotton candy, but the scene of farmers planting rice seedlings on the terraced fields kept appearing in his mind...

"When the day of hoeing is noon, sweat drips down the soil. Who would have thought that every grain of Chinese food on the plate is hard work."

He read it lightly, and the picture depicted in the poem appeared in his mind, then he shook his head and sighed, then went to the kitchen to wash rice and cook.

When washing rice, he saw a few grains of rice falling on the ground, he was slightly taken aback, then bent down to pick them up.

After washing the rice, soak the rice.

During the waiting time, he opened the longevity menu, but he was a little stunned when he didn't find that wisp of qi.

"Is it an illusion?"

Yan Qingkong was a little puzzled.

In that village, he obviously felt a wisp of qi lingering around his fingertips, and then he seemed to have entered the longevity order.

After about four or ten minutes, he lit the fire and cooked the rice.

At this time, he didn't think much about it, he just acted in a regular manner, everything was natural, without the slightest deliberation.

However, he couldn't help it again, and began to read the "Compassion for Farmers".

"When the day of hoeing is noon, sweat drips down the soil. Who would have thought that every grain of Chinese food on the plate is hard work."

The more he read, the more he felt, and there was a lingering charm in his voice, which made him feel like he was in the picture in the poem, hoeing the weeds among the seedlings under the scorching sun, dripping sweat dripping on the soil ...

From sowing to harvesting to digging, it seemed like year after year, but I ended up starving to death.

At some point, bead-sized beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, dripping down on the floor.

When he broke free from the artistic conception of that poem, his whole body was already limp on the ground, gasping for breath.

"How is this going?"

Yan Qingkong's heart trembled a little, as if he had traveled through time and space, and had been a poor farmer all his life in the world of that poem.

But in the end, he was starved to death.

"Could it be that when I was distracted, I actually had a dream?"

He returned to his senses with a wry smile, and then found that the rice had been cooked, exuding a special fragrance.

The aroma in the kitchen is overflowing, very attractive.

"Dinner ready?"

Yan Qingkong was a little surprised, he didn't expect to be able to do it without thinking, which surprised him very much.

He couldn't wait to open the lid, and he smelled the fragrance.

I saw that the rice in the pot was not only plump, but also crystal clear and shiny, and the rice fragrance was overflowing.

"It smells so good!"

He lowered his head and sniffed, and couldn't help but marvel.

At this time, he quickly filled up a bowl of rice, and hurriedly brought it to the living room to eat.

"The grains are full, crystal clear, soft and smooth, and the rice grains are fragrant."

After he took a sip, he was amazed and said: "Moreover, it is chewy and chewy, but it is soft and sticky after chewing, and it looks fragrant and refreshing."

The shiny rice is fragrant in the living room, which makes people's index fingers move.

"Moreover, it melts in the throat without any burden on the stomach."

Yan Qingkong closed his eyes, tasted it carefully, and said softly: "Although I have already eaten, the fragrance is still on my lips and teeth, and the aftertaste is long and unforgettable."

"When the day of hoeing is noon, sweat drips down the soil. Who would have thought that every grain of Chinese food on the plate is hard work."

Suddenly, a voice full of charm, as if coming through ancient time and space, slowly sounded from the living room.

When Yan Qingkong heard it, his body trembled slightly.

At this time, when he looked at the rice in front of him, it was like looking at pearls, which seemed extremely precious.

As he listened quietly, he tasted it slowly. Every grain of rice was incomparably precious, and it was the farmer's blood and sweat in exchange for...

That voice kept ringing, constantly impacting his soul, touching the deepest part of his soul.

In a trance, he saw pictures one after another, which were exactly the pictures depicted in the poem, which made his heart tremble endlessly.

Farmers work hard all year round, not avoiding severe cold and heat, rain, snow, wind and frost, and exchange blood and sweat for fruitful harvests, but they themselves are empty-handed and starved to death...

However, some people discarded the grain he had worked so hard to grow, and poured the grain on the ground.

Every grain of grain is dripping with sweat!

please cherish!
Before he knew it, Yan Qingkong had become that farmer.

I do not know when, his tears have flowed down.

Unknowingly, he just finished that bowl of tearful rice.

"Who knows that every piece of Chinese food is hard work—"

Yan Qingkong came to his senses and cherished the rice in front of him even more.

He went back to the kitchen and filled another bowl.

This rice seemed to have magical powers, so he couldn't resist it at all.

And a dish of "every grain is hard work" is only for one person, about two bowls.

"Unexpectedly, a bowl of white rice can be so delicious, and let people taste the hard work of each grain." Yan Qingkong sighed a little. He didn't expect this bowl of rice to be so magical, which can make people have endless aftertaste.

At this time, the voice full of charm rang in his mind again, making him shed tears again.

This time, he not only tasted that every grain of it was painstaking, but also tasted the life of the farmer...

"It's hard to come by."

He looked at the crystal clear rice grains, and his hands trembled a little.

And tears kept streaming down his face.

"At noon on the day of hoeing, the sweat dripped into the soil. Who knows that the food on the plate is all hard work." However, after he finished eating, the voice did not stop, but continued to read.

Every time that poem sounded, he experienced a farmer's life, and knew the hardships of every grain, and the hard-won...

"Mom, still not stopping?"

Yan Qingkong said helplessly while wiping away tears.

Whenever this poem sounded in his mind, he couldn't control his emotions, and tears flowed down involuntarily.

He wanted to stop, but couldn't.

The poem sounded for the fourth time, still full of charm, as if it had traveled through time and space from ancient times, putting him in the world of poetry and becoming a poor farmer...

It rang for the fifth time.

"Damn, don't stop?!"

Yan Qingkong cried angrily.

However, he couldn't control the tears, it kept streaming down.

When it sounded for the tenth time, he was crying and angry at the same time, with a very strange expression, and said, "Damn it, how long are you going to play it? I've already cried ten times..."

That charming voice kept ringing in his mind.

Over and over again, infinite single loop.

"Mom, let me go!"

Yan Qingkong begged for mercy, the voice was like a devil, constantly destroying his spirit, and said: "When did I stop cherishing food?"

……

(End of this chapter)