Back at their lodgings, Cheng Buyou and Cong Buqi took the sika deer Lu Chen had carried back all the way, then set to skinning and butchering it with knives. Their movements were exceptionally practiced; after more than a decade living in seclusion in the mountains, they had likely long since grown used to such chores.
Feng Buping went down to the cellar and brought out stored radishes, napa cabbage, dried mushrooms, cured sausage, and other ingredients, preparing a meal to entertain the two children.
Then, just as he was about to start cooking, Huang Rong entered the kitchen with a grin.
"Uncle Feng, let me cook. I'm very good at it."
"You?"
Feng Buping looked at her slender, fair, tender hands, and a slightly stiff smile appeared on his face again.
"Young miss, with ten fingers that have never touched spring water, you know how to cook?"
Huang Rong nodded repeatedly.
"I do! Not only can I cook, I'm really good at it."
Feng Buping laughed dumbly. After thinking for a moment, he pointed at the chopping board. "Try slicing a radish first."
If she could not even chop vegetables, then she should not claim to know the art of cooking.
Huang Rong giggled, rolled up her sleeves, picked up the cleaver, and began chopping briskly.
When an expert made a move, one immediately knew whether they had the goods.
The moment Feng Buping saw Huang Rong's knife work, he knew it was far beyond ordinary. She could probably even carve flowers into a radish with that cleaver.
Feng Buping naturally no longer doubted Huang Rong's cooking skills. After watching her chop for a while, he said, "I'll go get the venison."
Huang Rong said, "Do you have red dates? I'll make a pot of venison stewed with red