Mother Rong served the plain porridge that she had cooked during dinner. She had already prepared it then. The porridge with white rice had been simmered on the stove for an entire night. It was cooked until it was rotten and fragrant. There was even a layer of delicious rice oil on the porridge.
The wooden spoon stirred in the porridge, and a strong fragrance of rice wafted out.
The porridge was made from firewood on a farmhouse stove. Furthermore, it was pure white rice. Thus, it was not an ordinary fragrance.
The villagers who could barely eat white rice gulped.
Mother Rong was also feeling a little uncomfortable. However, when she thought of Ye Lulu's body and the three newborn children, she quickly brought the porridge to Ye Lulu and said with a smile, "There's still a bowl of chicken soup in the kitchen. Is this bowl of porridge enough? If it's not enough, you can drink the chicken soup as well. Or should we leave it for tomorrow?"
