Chen Mo placed a card and a timer by the earthen stove—Stewed Pig Knuckle, countdown, 3 hours.
One stove after another was occupied, and the courtyard gradually filled with various aromas. It was still early in the day, and the feast preparation was entering a feverish stage!
Twenty clay pots were neatly arranged on the workbench. Chen Mo opened one, and Hou Yao leaned in for a look, "Goodness, when did you make this stuff?"
"Did it last night."
What's in the pot?
A cleaned stuffed duck, clearly with its leg bones broken and the thick bones of its duck feet removed, and its beak chopped off!
Moreover, the duck skin looked somewhat firm, evidently having undergone preliminary processing, probably scalded in hot water; that was as much as Hou Yao could deduce.
"Goodness, you worked all night and did all this?"
"Otherwise, how would I dare to make it fresh today?" Chen Mo was quite smug.
