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Chapter 27 - Banh Lot

In the space, I had previously planted some choi sum, which should now be big enough to eat.

Taking advantage of a moment when no one was looking, I entered the space, and Banh Nep snuck in after me. This little guy was strange; he didn't run around but just followed at my heels.

The rice seedlings in the paddy within the space were already about sixty or seventy centimeters tall; I had to find time to transplant them soon.

The choi sum was growing very well, lush and green. Grandfather and Khang would surely love it.

I made a simple lunch: a plate of stir-fried choi sum, braised eggplant, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, and tomato-braised stuffed tofu. I had stockpiled a lot of cooking spices before, which came in handy now.

I had made the tofu myself earlier. It didn't look pretty, but it was soft and smooth, absorbed flavors well, and was perfect with rice.

As I was washing strawberries, Banh Nep loitered around my feet. Khang, sitting in the living room, also looked on greedily, his eyes fixed on my hands. When he saw me looking, he didn't hide it, his blinking eyes unable to conceal his craving.

I looked at the big one and the small one and couldn't help but laugh out loud.

After washing the strawberries, I put a few in Banh Nep's bowl and gave the other half of the bowl to Khang: "Have some strawberries to tide you over, the meal is almost ready."

Khang's eyes crinkled into a smile, and he looked shyly at Grandfather, then back at me.

Grandfather said kindly: "Eat up, grandson. Look at you, you've gotten thinner again."

Khang nodded and popped a strawberry into his mouth. The strawberries from our home were quite large. He took a bite, and the juice trickled down the side of his lip. He ate like a little hamster, his pink tongue occasionally licking the juice from his lips, looking very happy.

The meal was served on the table. Khang sat obediently still, like a primary school student, waiting for me to serve him.

When he saw the plate of choi sum, his eyes lit up. I held back a laugh and gave him some more.

Khang said quietly: "Alright, I forgive you for not waiting for me this morning."

After speaking, he quickly shoveled rice into his mouth, not forgetting to put food into my bowl as he ate. The dinner table finally became lively, and my heart, which had always been quiet, felt incredibly happy.

Last night, the three of us had moved the food supplies from the warehouse until we were exhausted.

Khang couldn't help but exclaim: "Phuong, you've stockpiled so much food."

When we had moved half a truckload, he said to me, both apologetically and worriedly: "Phuong, are we moving too much..."

I ruffled his hair and said gently: "Don't worry, trust me."

After a pause, I added thoughtfully: "It's just that I can help this time. It's hard to say about the future."

Khang smiled: "I know what you mean. You've already helped so much. They should figure things out for themselves from now on. It's not easy for anyone."

After a whole night of hard labor, we only got to rest near dawn. Khang was dead tired; the moment his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep. It was now midday, and no amount of calling could wake him.

It was sweltering inside the house. Khang was wearing one of my white tank tops. He had lost a lot of weight recently, making my clothes look even more baggy on him. The hem of the shirt covered his bottom, and if it weren't for the pair of beach shorts he was wearing underneath, it would look like he was wearing a dress.

The bed was covered with a bamboo mat, but it was still stiflingly hot. The electricity had been out for a long time, and even when it occasionally returned, it was only for a few hours. I had long given up hope on the power supply; after all, just being alive now was a great fortune.

Khang tossed and turned on the bed, his face marked with pinkish-red lines from the bamboo mat. Seeing no sign of him waking up soon, I had to think about what to eat later.

I remembered that while clearing out the warehouse before, there was a lot of rice flour left. In this hot weather, something cool would be more appetizing. Making banh lot was the most logical choice.

No sooner said than done. Banh Nep must have been hiding from the heat, probably cooling off in the rock face. The kitchen was as hot as a furnace, but since I wasn't particularly afraid of the heat, I could bear it.

I started a fire in the wood stove to boil water. I mixed the rice flour with cold water, stirring it into a smooth paste. When the water in the pot boiled, I took a rolling pin and, while slowly pouring the flour mixture in, used the pin to stir in one direction. By the time all the flour was in, the stirring was almost done. The fire had to be reduced as well; too much heat could easily burn it.

I waited until the batter thickened to a consistency slightly softer than jelly, then scooped it out into a colander and let it cool. Because I wanted to make banh lot, the batter couldn't be allowed to cool completely.

I had a basin of cool water ready, drawn from the stream in the space. Then, while the batter was still hot, I used the colander to press it into short strands that fell into the basin of water.

After I finished, I saved a small amount of the warm batter. Grandfather used to love eating this soft, slippery warm batter.

I prepared a dipping sauce, boiled a basket of choi sum, and made some extra tomato sauce to go with it.

I estimated the time and went over to Fat Bang's house to call Grandfather home, taking the opportunity to bring them some of the banh lot I had made. In this heat, they would surely enjoy this dish.

Grandfather was very fond of Fat Bang's children. Fat Bang's parents had passed away early, leaving him a single father to raise his two kids. Grandfather felt for them and would often invite the two kids over to play.

The children were also very fond of Grandfather. They clung tightly to my legs, leaving me at a loss, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Seeing my awkwardness, Fat Bang and Grandfather were very amused. I didn't usually play with children, nor was I a talkative person, so most kids didn't dare to approach me. This was the first time a child had been so affectionate with me, and an indescribable feeling stirred in my heart—perhaps it was a little bit of joy.

By the time I returned from Fat Bang's house, the boy at home should be awake. Grandfather carried the food out to the backyard to eat. I waited for a moment and heard footsteps on the floor; Khang was finally up.

When Khang came downstairs, I had just finished mixing his bowl of banh lot.

The glistening white, chewy, and slippery strands of banh lot lay in a bowl of bright red sauce, and its aroma alone was enough to make one's mouth water.

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