Chapter 45: Winter Routine. It was only when the Gregorian calendar year...

it was only when the Gregorian calendar year... He Feng finally asked Song Qingshu what his birthday was. Song Qingshu said it was February 28th, and He Feng said he'd noted it down.

Yesterday was sunny, and the snow hadn't melted much, but today it started raining again.

A few days ago, Mrs. Liu brought over another thick cotton-padded jacket along with He Feng's thinner one.

The jacket was larger than usual, barely covering their buttocks. He Feng and Song Qingshu stood together, looking in the mirror. They were wearing identical colors and patterns, making them look like a couple.

"Beautiful." He Feng met Song Qingshu's eyes through the mirror. Song Qingshu lowered his head and tugged at the hem of his shirt. "Mm, Sister Liu's cooking is really good."

"Brother, I mean, my son is beautiful."

Song Qingshu looked up, his eyes meeting his. He was startled for a moment, then smiled back, "Brother, he's beautiful too."

He Feng lowered his head and kissed the dimple on his cheek. Pulling back, he ruffled his soft, fluffy black hair, a bit like how Song Qingshu ruffled a flower.

Cotton-padded jackets made of new cotton are naturally warm. There was a charcoal fire burning in the room, and soon Song Qingshu began to feel the heat. He unbuttoned his jacket and changed back into his old one.

"Brother, will New Year's Eve be colder than it is now?"

As the saying goes, it's not cold when snow melts , but when it does

. He Feng looked outside. Tomorrow is Laba, not the coldest days of winter yet. "Well, the coldest days are the coldest, so New Year's Eve will be a little colder than it is now." "The snow is heavy this year, so the harvest will definitely be good next year.

" Song Qingshu's eyes curved, his lips curled up. "That's great! It doesn't matter if it's cold."

"If spring comes early, I'll plant sunflowers all over the field south of here."

"Great." Song Qingshu's eyes sparkled with anticipation.

Mentioning this reminded He Feng of the dried fruits in the cabinet drawer. Song Qingshu devoured the others quickly, but walnuts were the only exception. He didn't like them much.

He had to peel them thoroughly, almost peeling off the brown coating on the kernels, before he could even eat more.

It was too much trouble.

He even secretly took a few handfuls to school to share with the students and teachers. Each teacher had three or five walnuts, and each well-behaved student had two.

At first, He Feng thought he had eaten it himself, but later he found that it was gone too quickly, so he took advantage of him being in a dilemma to ask him if he had given it to someone else to eat.

Song Qingshu groaned in pain, the sound like a cat scratching him, "Yes, I gave it to someone else."

He Feng slapped his fleshy buttocks, not hard, but the white and tender buttocks trembled and sent Song Qingshu to the clouds.

"Yeah." The tears in his eyes fell.

"You didn't eat any of it yourself?" He Feng's voice was a little cold, and Song Qingshu shrank his neck like a small animal that sensed danger.

He didn't react yet and looked at He Feng blankly.

After a long while, he softly said "bitter, choking, not delicious."

At that time, He Feng bought a large bag of walnuts because he heard that eating walnuts is good for the heart. He didn't eat much himself and planned to save them all for Song Qingshu.

Unexpectedly, he gave them all to others and didn't eat a single bite himself.

"I'll peel them all and give them to you later. If you want to give them away, I can, but if I give two away, I'll have to eat one myself."

Song Qingshu shook his head, his legs trembling, his toes tensing as he whimpered, "No, no."

He Feng leaned over and kissed his rosy lips, "Good boy."

He Feng, feeling the heat, put his cotton jacket in the closet. He wouldn't need it anytime soon, so he could save it for New Year's as a new outfit.

He took three walnuts, sat on a stool, and peeled off the shells bit by bit. With his fingertips, he peeled off the walnut shells, revealing the tender white kernels inside.

Ever since he knew Song Qingshu didn't want to eat them and was giving them away, he'd peeled three walnuts every day for him.

Seeing his wrinkled face, he'd only given him two, but Song Qingshu would take advantage of the situation, eating half and then feeding He Feng the other half.

He Feng licked his wet, warm mouth, chewed and swallowed it willingly, then retrieved another walnut from the closet.

"From now on, I'll peel the walnuts for you every day, according to today's count."

With that, Song Qingshu, who had been about to feed him, gave up, instead putting the walnuts in his mouth and chewing them furiously.

He didn't dislike them so much that he couldn't eat them at all; without the bitterness, he could still savor the fragrance of the walnuts. But the very act of chewing them made him thirsty and craved water.

He Feng would always prepare honey water for him, but now there was no excuse. He was afraid he'd complain again, so He Feng would just chew the walnuts himself and feed them to him mouth-to-mouth.

That scene was over.

He was reading when He Feng brought the peeled walnut kernels to his lips. Only then did Song Qingshu open his mouth and take them.

He Feng couldn't help but press his lips. It was obvious that He Feng was taking good care of him. Even though he was still taking medicine, he was in much better shape than when they first met.

Except for the day after taking the medicine, when Song Qingshu felt lethargic, he was generally energetic.

Even so, He Feng still felt a little worried and kept thinking about taking him to the provincial capital.

Song Qingshu said he'd seen it before, and it couldn't be cured. He Feng didn't mention it again, but he had no intention of giving up.

He exchanged his work points earned at the bridge for money, and he simply handed all his belongings to Song Qingshu, asking him to manage the money.

The money-grubber counted the money three times before carefully placing it in a cloth bag, stuffing it at the bottom of the closet and covering it with layers of clothing.

Even a thief would have to search for half an hour to find it.

"Tomorrow is Laba Festival. Put some raisins, red dates, goji berries, peanuts, and red beans in the porridge. I think we have some longans at home. Is that okay?"

He Feng touched his earlobe. Song Qingshu didn't take his eyes off the picture book. "No goji berries, that would be weird."

"Okay, then leave the rest as is."

The next morning, the snow had stopped, and the yard was a blanket of white. The trees in the distance were covered in a thick layer of snow, gleaming brightly.

It was cold, so He Feng only opened the window a little and kept the door tightly closed.

Hearing the sound of the main hall door opening, Xiao Hei and Xiao Hua came out of the south storage room. Xiao Hei was big, and half of his leg was buried in the snow when he stepped into it.

Xiao Hua... simply disappeared in the snow.

Because the door on that side was not swept yesterday, the snow had accumulated for several days and was as high as a person's calf.

Xiao Hei, the silly dog, did not take Xiao Hua to walk under the eaves, but insisted on walking in the snow.

When He Feng was about to walk over, Xiao Hua suddenly jumped up, and was picked up by Xiao Hei and placed under the eaves next to him.

The chubby Xiao Hua shook off the snow on her body, and a few pieces of snow fell on the wall, like a small snowfall.

Xiao Hei watched Xiao Hua shake, and shook himself, but nothing happened, but two black hairs did fall off.

He Feng watched the two of them having fun, and several small plum blossoms were printed under the eaves. He took the big bamboo broom and swept the snow on the ground.

After he finished cleaning the brick path in the yard that he often walked on, he opened the gate and swept the area from Mrs. Liu's door all the way to the main road, except for some mud spots splashed on the snow on both sides.

After finishing the work, he felt hot all over. Except for his face which was a little cold, his hands also started to feel hot.

He put the broom upright behind the gate, went up to the house to get some things and started to boil the pot to cook porridge.

He also felt that saccharin was unhealthy, so he didn't let Song Qingshu eat it.

He took a few pieces of crystal clear white sugar and prepared to put them into the pot before the porridge was taken out of the pot. When Song Qingshu woke up, the quilt was already a little cold. He yawned and

waited until he could see clearly before getting out of bed. He was wrapped in He Feng's military coat. He was thin to begin with, not as tall as He Feng. Even with the thick military coat wrapped around him, his slender figure could be seen. The hem

of the coat hung down to his calves, revealing only a little cotton trousers and cotton shoes. He bought cotton shoes. Winter shoes are not easy to make. He bought thick wool, soles, insoles and so on. He Feng was ready to learn more and try to crochet a pair of cotton shoes for Song Qingshu.

Those shoes were not very non-slip and could not be worn on snow, otherwise their feet would get even colder if they got wet. But Song Qingshu could wear them indoors.

Otherwise, when he was lying there reading comic books, his feet would not be warm even in the quilt. A hot water bottle could warm them up, but once the hot water bottle got cold, they would become cold again.

After brushing his teeth, Song Qingshu went to the kitchen. In winter, he liked to sit behind the stove and add some firewood. He Feng did not stop him because the hottest place in the house was behind the stove.

"Brother, do we have to go to the big market before the New Year?"

"Yes, the streets are much busier then. People are buying New Year's goods. There are many stalls and the things are not very expensive."

He Feng put the hard-boiled things into the pot and boiled them together.

With the lid on the pot, he looked at the person in front of him. The firelight reflected on his face, making his eyes brighter. "What do you want to eat this morning?"

"No cooking, just porridge will be fine. We still have the salty pancakes from yesterday."

He Feng thought about it and agreed. "Then boil two eggs, peel some garlic, and mash them up to eat."

"Okay."

Song Qingshu added some corn cobs. The fire inside was burning vigorously, so he put his hands in front of him and spread them out to warm himself.

He Feng went to the cupboard in the main room and brought back a steamed bun basket with two eggs in it.

"What do you want to eat for lunch?"

A call came from outside the house. "Tofu for sale—" It was Uncle Zhou, who was selling tofu from a tricycle on the north side of the street. His tofu was delicious, without any bean smell, and everyone on the street would buy some when he saw it.

"Want to eat?"

Song Qingshu nodded, as he had indeed not eaten tofu in a long time.

"Go upstairs and get the money and the iron basin. Just ask for a dime's worth of tofu. We have some mung bean meatballs at home. Let's make some salty soup for lunch."

Song Qingshu nodded and went to the main room to get the money and the basin. In the yard, he heard He Feng say, "Watch the road and don't fall. Call him to buy tofu and he'll stop."

"Okay." Song Qingshu gathered his clothes

and walked out. This kind of salty soup is eaten in Hejia Village. The fried mung bean meatballs are fried until crispy and fragrant. They are put in the pot before serving. The pot is filled with fried meat slices, then boiled with water, and then sweet potato starch, cabbage, tofu, and various seasonings.

A bowl of hot soup in winter warms the whole body from the stomach.

Mrs. Liu also heard it, took the money and walked out. She happened to see Song Qingshu, and the two of them went to the main road together. Seeing that Uncle Zhou was about to leave, Mrs. Liu called him down.

Song Qingshu was not used at all.

The corners of his mouth curled up, and he walked over with Mrs. Liu. After Uncle Zhou asked how much it cost, he measured it accurately. He cut a piece and put it on the scale. The price was a little higher than the original price.

The tofu was freshly made, covered with a layer of white cloth and a quilt. It was still steaming when it was served in a basin.

Smelling the aroma of beans, Song Qingshu gave the money to the uncle.

"You came late today," Mrs. Liu said.

"I'm teaching my son. Two years ago, he said he wanted to go out and find a job and didn't want to learn. But this year he came back and wanted to learn again." Uncle Zhou took the money and replied with a smile.

"That's great. Someone will take over your business in the future. Everyone on this street eats your tofu. Other places don't taste like this."

A piece of tofu was cut and trembled in the basin. "When you get old, who doesn't want a son to be by your side? If he doesn't take over this business, he won't be able to do it in two years."

"It's still early," Mrs. Liu smiled.

Song Qingshu returned with the basin, but the tofu was no longer hot. He Feng covered it and put it in the kitchen cabinet.

Song Qingshu, who was warming his hands by the stove, lowered his eyes and thought about something.