Chen Mo watched the water in the pot boil vigorously and retrieved the dough that had been refrigerated for a moment from the cabinet.
When he had kneaded the dough, Chen Mo shaped it into a long cylindrical form, roughly twenty centimeters long, and placed it on a rectangular wooden board.
He then placed the board carrying the dough onto his left arm, held his arm straight, and stood tall and upright.
Granny Chen noticed this, and her eyes showed some surprise, "When I lived in Fujian as a child, I heard about Jingzhou's knife-cut noodles, but such noodles are rarely seen in the south."
Chen Mo thought to himself, not only rarely seen, but this dish had barely left Jingzhou. Even if some businesses went to other regions, they often made it quite carelessly.
For the same bowl of noodles, if made carelessly, Jingzhou people wouldn't accept it. They wouldn't return after trying it once.
