The First Part of China's Eastern Point Chapter 9 Little Li Who Burns Fire

  The next day, at just past five o'clock, Qu Mingjun and Wang Jin were woken up by Li Dongkuan. The three of them hastily tidied up their personal belongings and prepared to go to the kitchen to help out. At this time, Qu Mingjun didn't expect that Guo Xiangyang had also gotten up ahead of schedule, folding his quilt and following them out the door. Li Dongkuan surprisingly said nothing, as if it was a matter of course for Guo Xiangyang to follow along.

  As soon as they walked out of the dormitory building, Wang Jin couldn't help but ask: "Class leader, why are you also helping with the cooking?"

  "En, I'll go take a look and help if I can. You two haven't experienced military life, don't delay things again. However, at 6 o'clock, you still need to come back and lead them out for exercise." Guo Xiangyang handed Li Dong a cigarette while gesturing to Qu Mingjun and Wang Min asking if they wanted one?

  Wang Jin and Qu Mingjun both shook their heads, and the four of them walked silently towards the cooking class. Qu Mingjun was thinking repeatedly about Guo Xiangyang in his heart. Originally, he had nothing to do with him today, but he came out so actively and initiative, was it to show off to someone?

  This morning's work wasn't so easy, four people basically all went up to the front line, even the squad leader and Zhang team leader joined in, only little Li who was responsible for lighting the fire ran to the stove to light it. They were making such a big fuss just to knead enough mantou for the whole team of over 140 people to eat for breakfast!

  Last night, the dough that had been sent out was pulled out from the mixing machine by Xiao Jiang, cut into strips with a knife, and then divided into small pieces. They were thrown onto the chopping board. Looking at the two heads of the household, one hand holding one piece each, they lightly rubbed and turned on the chopping board, and two buns took shape under their hands.

  At this point, Guo Xiangyang and Li Dongkuan were also a bit stunned. They had never practiced this before. When they were in the army, the cooking class there was different from the one in the academy. The army's cooking class was a real class with more than ten people, and normally they didn't need help from other classes, let alone Guo Xiangyang and Li Dongkuan who came from the reconnaissance company.

  As for Wang Jin and Qu Mingjun, they were directly assigned by the squad leader to wash the steamer baskets and mats, then stood aside waiting to neatly arrange the mantou into the steamer baskets. Even arranging the mantou was something that Sergeant Zhang yelled out instructions for, saying things like "from the edges to the center" and "leaving space in between".

  Guo Xiangyang and Li Dongkuan were listening to the steward's tips on how to knead dough, saying that you need to use the tiger's mouth and the thick part of the meat, with your whole hand in a tiger claw shape. Then, whether it's clockwise or counterclockwise, press the dough on the table for one turn, and a bun comes out. The two then imitated the steward's movements, first using their right hands to try, taking a long time to get a feel for it. Although the buns they kneaded were not very round, at least they looked like buns.

  Wang Jin and Qu Mingjun both went up to try, but it wasn't that easy. In the end, Zhang Banzhang was annoyed by their disturbance and directly kicked them off stage, continuing their rice bowl business.

  Qu Mingjun only saw the steward and Zhang Bansheng chatting on stage, while his hands quickly produced buns of uniform size and beautiful shape, unexpectedly giving off an artistic feel to this kitchen's chores, earning a few points of admiration from him.

  By the time it was almost six o'clock, the buns were finally all kneaded. At this point, the water in the two large pots on the stove had also boiled. Guo Xiangyang washed his hands and hurried back to attend roll call. Zhang Bansheng used one pot of water to blanch the small oil greens and the freshly delivered bean sprouts, then several people worked together to put the large steamer basket that three people could barely hug onto this pot. The other pot, which had not been used for cooking vegetables, was used to make rice porridge with rice.

  At this time, the captain also left, and Zhang Bansheng ran to the small stove in the deputy food warehouse, lit a fire and prepared to simmer a sauce for cold dishes.

  "Qu Mingjun, go to the fire room and help Xiao Li. Wang Jin and I will sweep the floor." Li Dongkuan seemingly casually arranged the next task for the three people.

  It sounds like burning two pots of fire is not a big deal, which boy hasn't played with fire when he was young? But in fact, it's not easy to do, and the size of the fire has its own rules. Qu Mingjun didn't go for a while and soon felt it.

  Although it's not easy, Li from the cooking class is an experienced person after all. Before Qu Mingjun and the others arrived in the morning, he got up early and blew the fire vigorously. Now he just takes a look at the fire every now and then, occasionally directing Qu Mingjun to throw a shovel of coal inside to ensure the size of the fire.

  Qu Mingjun wore a black canvas glove, holding a large shovel as tall as a person, feeling very bored, just looking at Little Li from time to time, lowering his head to check the furnace door. Little Li had a doll-like face and looked very young, like a 14 or 15-year-old child. It was probably because of years of working with fire that his skin looked very rough, and those hands were even more terrifying, with skin like old tree bark, full of small cracks, and some fine coal ash in the cracks seemed to be embedded in the flesh.

  "Hey, add half a scoop of coal." Little Li said as he opened the fire door without looking back.

  Qu Mingjun reacted after half a beat, hastily responding with an "ah" and adding half a scoop. Xiao Li looked back at Qu Mingjun with some confusion, only to discover that he had been staring at his own hand the whole time.

  Xiao Li smiled and said, "Nothing much, just coal dust everywhere. No matter how hard I wash, it won't come off. Even using hand cream doesn't work well. It looks really bad."

  Qū Míng Jùn subconsciously murmured "uh-huh", only to realize he had responded incorrectly, and quickly changed the subject saying: "No no, uh, how many years have you been in the army?"

  "It's been over two years." Little Li smiled foolishly.

  "Have you been burning fire here all along?" Qu Mingjun was somewhat curious.

  "That's right. Since I was transferred from the new recruit regiment, I've been in charge of cooking. At first, Sergeant Zhang taught me for a few days and said that I learned quickly. Hehe."

  "...You, this is already the second year of being a soldier. In another year, you should be discharged, right? Are you going to just burn for a few years and then be discharged and go back home, isn't that a loss?" Qu Mingjun couldn't imagine how he would be if he were just a soldier who only burned fire.

  "What's to lose? What's there to lose, anyway? At least here we have rice and buns to eat, back home we can't even afford that. Lighting the fire is easier than doing chores at home. Just carrying water from home takes half an hour of walking on mountain paths." Little Li looked down at the fire door again, with a relaxed expression.

  His words were light and casual, but what Ming Jun heard was a tremble in his heart. He was a child who grew up with a golden key, seeing the luxurious lives of the rich every day, let alone hearing about people struggling at the bottom of society? Although he saw official reports saying that there were still many people in the country who had not yet escaped poverty, today this living person stood right in front of him, with a satisfied face telling himself that being able to eat rice and white buns in the army was like a huge happiness. Ming Jun felt a bit suffocated in his heart.

  Only when one's basic needs are met can they understand etiquette. How do you explain lofty goals, magnificent careers, and loving wives and children to someone who considers having a full stomach as happiness? In Little Li's eyes, perhaps he would be content with burning fire for the rest of his life in the army. Qu Mingjun really didn't know what to say, comforting him was unnecessary; encouraging him would be too fake.

  Xiao Li looked at Qu Mingjun's furrowed brow, cracked a smile and said: "Nothing much, Squad Leader Zhang taught me how to cook, when I get back I can be a chef, not a bad deal. Besides, Squad Leader Zhang said, someone has to do everything, I'm just a screw on the revolutionary machine."

  "Oh." Qu Mingjun suddenly remembered Zhang's vest from yesterday and asked: "That Zhang, was he the one who cooked?"

  "Huh? What do you mean?" Little Li was somewhat puzzled as to why Qu Mingjun asked this.

  "Oh, I see Zhang Class Monitor has a vest on him with 'Memorial of Martial Arts Competition' written on it. Who gave that to him?"

  "What was given to him, that was what Zhang Bansheng earned when he was a soldier. If Zhang Bansheng hadn't broken his leg during training once, he would have been an officer long ago. I heard he didn't want to leave the army, so he learned to cook and stayed in the kitchen squad."

  Qu Jun's voice was left with only silence...

  This morning was tense, almost comparable to going into battle, and not much easier than the previous day's exercise. When everything was finally completed, Qu Mingjun couldn't help but feel a sense of emotion. Preparing meals for over 100 people really wasn't an easy task. Without systematic planning and division of labor, it would be a problem even if they were only preparing meals for ten people.

  After finishing everything and eating, returning to the dormitory, this guy became the capital of Wang Jin's boasting. He would talk to Liu Menglou about the size of the shovel, and then talk to Zhang Baoshan about how to knead the steamed buns. His tone was as if he had experienced something extraordinary and fascinating, making several young people who had never helped with cooking envy him.

  Qu Mingjun was used to being alone, and didn't join in the fun with them. In his mind, sometimes it was Xiaoli's hand, and sometimes it was Zhang Bansheng's white vest. How come he felt more and more like there was an inexplicable feeling in his heart? Qu Mingjun thought back to that night when he couldn't sleep, tossing and turning, doubting himself. His heart felt like a overturned five-spice jar, unable to distinguish between sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy.