After Li Qiao arrived home, he cut off the roots of the morel mushrooms with a kitchen knife and buried them in the sunny spot of his yard, covering them with a thick layer of rice straw.
Should the growing environment be about the same as it was by the grass hut now?
Old Mrs. Qin, "Qiaoqiao, what are you fiddling with? You need to start cooking soon, Jin is going to be back any minute."
"I'll start right away." Li Qiao washed the mushrooms clean, cut them into nails, and chopped the green onions finely.
He started a fire to make sauce.
Old Mrs. Qin couldn't stay put as she smelled the sauce, put down what she was working on, and approached, "This sauce smells really good, what's that black not-autumn thing inside it?"
"Mushrooms, just picked from the grass hut in the field."
