Chapter 646

Into the yard, all kinds of flowers and plants are still growing delicate.

My heart, on a sigh. The Negroes were acting in the pasture, and they didn't trample on the plants or pull them out. Or, in the eyes of the black people, the valuable things in the pasture are only cows. As for the plants, tables and chairs, they are not unusual or rare.

You know, without the setting off of these flowers and plants, I think this small courtyard should be inferior. Lawson pushed the door in. The walls were full of portraits. In the portrait, it's all the same woman. I've seen a picture of my grandmother. The woman in the picture is my grandmother. It's just that these women are similar to grandma, but they are not. I know that the portraits are all made by my grandfather's professional painters. According to his description, I draw the appearance of my grandmother. This will inevitably lead to errors. What's more, when my grandfather left China, although she was nearly forty, she was still young. Grandma's 40 year old appearance is deeply fixed in grandfather's heart and becomes eternal.

The "grandmother" in the portrait has different shapes, some have big eyes, some have plump lips, and some are thin and weak. I feel deeply. These portraits represent my grandfather's yearning for my grandmother. I took out my mobile phone and took pictures one by one.

The kitchen in the courtyard has rice, flour and oil, which is good.

I looked up at Lawson, and he was looking at me fondly: "honey, it's agreed that we'll live on the ranch for a month, and we'll make a decision when the ranch is on track."

I nodded. I listen to him.

"Good."

When it's noon, lowerson and I cook. No, actually, I was cooking. He went to the ranch to gather the workers and several supervisors for a meeting. In a word, he is in charge of the outside and I am in charge of the inside. There's another restaurant on the ranch. There are full-time chefs in the restaurant. After my grandfather returned home, the ranch was robbed and all the chefs were gone. Yesterday, they came back to work. There are five cooks on the ranch. They are all Chinese. It surprised me. To my surprise, none of them can speak Chinese. When I asked, I learned that they were all the descendants of the first generation of Chinese immigrants. The so-called first generation of Chinese immigrants can be traced back to the late Qing Dynasty. Handsome recruited a group of Chinese mercenaries, and these people went to Africa by sea. After their retirement, they intermarried with local black women and gave birth to children of mixed race. But the amazing thing is that when their descendants have money and take root in the local area, they ask their children to marry the Chinese. Therefore, more than 100 years later, the appearance of the descendants of the first group of Chinese immigrants has changed back to that of Chinese people.

They and I, without exception, communicate in English very smoothly.

"Work hard, you'll get a share of the money."

They call me "Madame," they call me "Mr. Lawson.". These chefs, to put it bluntly, are rotten bananas with yellow heart and black skin. Their way of behavior and mode of thinking have been South Africanized.

I read their recipes, which are high in calories and nutritious, but monotonous. Lunch is inseparable from bread and beef, butter, eggs, that's all. I think we can change a little bit. But chefs say black employees have bad taste buds. As long as there is meat for lunch, they are happy, both men and women“ You can fry some vegetables and add some fruit. It's not difficult I'm not happy with the chefs' laziness. As long as the employees are hardworking, no matter black or white, they are worthy of respect.

Leaving the kitchen, I stood on a stone and looked out into the distance of the ranch. Ear, is a cow low moo. On the grass, mushrooms of various colors grow intermittently. Most of these mushrooms are poisonous and inedible. Luoweisen told me that the more colorful the mushroom, the more toxic it is. On the grassland, there are not only cows, but also rabbits, sheep, birds and dogs. They live and grow together with cows and do not interfere with each other. Luo Weisen said that he likes pastures and the atmosphere of pastures freedom. I really feel the same about it.

I went back to the kitchen, watered the flower grass, and cooked the food for me and Lawson. I heard shoes walking outside the kitchen. The dull sound of shoes, stepping on the grass outside the yard, is particularly loud.

Did Lawson finish the meeting? But he was wearing hand-made old Beijing cloth shoes, which were comfortable and grounded. Did he change a pair of shoes for a meeting? I shook my head. The footstep was not made by Lawson.