"How many sticky rice buns should we make?" 'Who bothers counting anymore? Just wait.' With a wave of her hand, Xu Changqing briskly left the room for the storeroom, went down to the cellar, and hauled back a burlap sack of yellow millet.
'Train an army for a thousand days to use it in a single moment... COUGH, COUGH, COUGH, no, that's not it. It's more like I made these preparations just for this moment.' "Back during the grain distribution, I figured things would be different from now on.
Our family's happy days are here! Let's make as many as we want. This time, we don't have to stop at sticky rice buns. I've got enough to make New Year's cakes and rolled bean-flour pastries, too.
Making some general pastries would be good, too, if it's not too much trouble. They're convenient to eat. During the New Year, we can just make a big stew and steam some of these pastries on a rack to go with it. It'll save a lot of time."
