Although the family compound of the base looked beautiful with its red bricks and tiles, they still had to cook with firewood.
The electricity supply was insufficient, and there were no gas stoves.
Next to the stove was a bellows; only when it was pulled did the firewood in the stove burn vigorously.
Nowadays, they were burning cornstalks, and every household also had a coal stove, receiving a monthly allotment of coal briquettes—of course, this cost money.
Because of the hot weather, Qiao Qingyu had placed her coal stove in the courtyard, right next to a stone platform specially built by He Xiuyu.
Qiao Qingyu brushed aside the coal that covered the stove's embers and set an iron pot with two handles on top of the stove.
There wasn't much oil in the house, but she poured what there was into the pot.
Soon, an unusual fragrance wafted through He Xiuyu's courtyard—one that He Xuerong had never smelled before, and Xiao Hu had certainly never encountered either.
