Breakfast couldn't be simpler, just some leftover rice from last night, stir-fried in an iron pot.
No oil, no vegetables, the rice is yellowish.
Looking at the breakfast in the earthenware bowl, which looked like excrement, Mu Xiangxiang dry-heaved.
"Ugh—"
Then she said, "What are you doing with this? Feeding pigs? Is the family's oil gone? Eggs? Why didn't you make scrambled eggs for me with rice?
Even the vegetables from the garden, can't you do anything with them?"
Mrs. Liu ignored Mu Xiangxiang, went into the kitchen, served herself a bowl of rice, and started eating it with relish in the dining room.
Not feeling that the food was difficult to eat at all.
"Crazy, absolutely crazy! Sick, brain sick!" Mu Xiangxiang cursed.
Not only this, Mu Xiangxiang angrily picked up the bowl of rice meant for her and smashed it onto the dining room floor.
