Chapter 125 Ruixue
On February 4, 1981, New Year’s Eve finally arrived.
On this day, when people in the capital woke up in the morning, they generally found that the ceiling was illuminated by the reflection of heavy snow.
God has taken the opportunity, and it has started snowing since last night, and it is getting heavier and heavier.
Although I still have to go to work today, after all, for most people, this is the last day before the long vacation.
The important thing is that this way, the flavor of the new year will be more abundant.
Coupled with the scattered sound of firecrackers, joy and auspiciousness suddenly filled everyone's heart.
So even if it’s snowing heavily and the weather is cold and the roads are slippery.
People who go to work are all in a good mood. As long as they see acquaintances on the street, they all greet each other with joy.
“It snows well, auspicious snow heralds a good harvest!”
The same is true for Ning Weimin.
When he rode into the alley, he couldn't stop talking about the neighbors in this alley.
The left sentence "Aunt Zhang, please slow down, the road is slippery, be careful".
Another sentence: "Brother Li, are you going to work? There is ice at the entrance of the alley, please pay attention."
The only difference is that others are at work and he is after get off work. Who asked him to go to work? I work the night shift.
But to be honest, his night shift was well worth it.
Even if he has to go to work tonight to be on duty, on the surface it seems that he can’t even spend New Year’s Eve at home, which seems quite miserable.
But in fact it is not the case at all.
Because the hotel industry is becoming more and more economical as the new year approaches.
As soon as the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month passed, there were not many guests staying in the Chongwenmen Hotel.
Well, apart from the fact that the Bianyifang restaurant is still doing a booming business, the catering department can't slack off, and the logistics department still has a lot of things to be busy with.
For other departments of Chongwenmen Hotel, it is almost like taking a holiday in advance.
What other jobs are there!
In addition to holding meetings and writing year-end summaries, most employees spend their time at work drinking tea, chatting, and eating melon seeds.
The leaders don’t care when they see it, and employees don’t even need a leave note when asking for leave.
No matter who it is, as long as they talk to the team leader or deputy team leader with whom they have a good relationship, they can go about their own family affairs with peace of mind.
Anyone who didn’t take their compensatory time off in advance and kept it until now would be called a fool.
Especially for Ning Weimin and Zhang Shihui.
Now not only can I still be free and seek "benefits" for myself outside, but I don't need to take turns to go to the guest room to rest even if I work the night shift.
We can blatantly take off work and go to bed together every day.
As long as one of the two shows up when the shift is handed over, it will be fine.
Hey, where can you find such a wonderful and affordable job in the world?
That is to say, there is really no way to bring it to the table for discussion.
Otherwise, the title of "Working Emperor" will really not be plastered on the forehead of the man named Tang in the future.
So just because this class was so good, at eight o'clock that morning, Ning Weimin, who had slept and had breakfast, pushed his bicycle into the courtyard, showing no signs of fatigue. .
Instead, he looked at the snowflakes falling from the sky, covering the entire courtyard's roof, eaves, toon trees, small houses, and coal piles with snow-white. He was so inspired by poetry.
Leaning the car against the outer wall of the kitchenette, locking the car, he recited aloud with emotion.
“Snowflakes from Yanshan Mountain are as big as a mat, falling in my courtyard. The sky is white, the ground is white, and the trees are white. Today I want to eat stewed chicken...”
But this expression of his feelings , but it didn’t last long.
Because as soon as he finished speaking, not even two seconds later, there was a lot of anger coming out of the room.
Daqing Kangshu De just bowed to the fire in the room. Hearing his poem in the room, the old man held hot chopsticks in his hand and taught him a lesson through the glass.
"Come on, brat, don't do your good deeds in the courtyard on a snowy day."
"This is also called poetry. Is it? The first sentence is copied from Li Bai, the second sentence is plain and simple, the third sentence is plagiarized from Zhang You, and the last sentence is your own true temperament, but you are really promising after all. "
"I'm not talking about you, but your crooked poetry is exactly the same as Zhang Zongchang, which shows that you are just a dog-meat general."
To say this is really embarrassing.
Fortunately, Ning Weimin didn't care at all.
Because the father and son are used to teasing and coughing, this kind of teasing is common.
Ning Weimin curled his lips nonchalantly.
I took out two aluminum lunch boxes from the back seat of the car, opened the door and entered the house.
"Old man, what you say is a bit biased. To be honest, in my opinion, Zhang Zongchang is much more frank than those 'Confucius said'."
"Let's just talk about his song "Song of Snow" , What things are flying in the sky, piles here and there. Could it be that the Jade Emperor is building a golden palace, sifting lime. This poem is so simple and easy to understand, and it has a sense of imagery. Can you say it is not vivid? General Dog Meat is also quite talented. I love his poems. "
"Besides, what's wrong with eating? Besides, you are the real expert in this area."
< br>Ning Weimin laughed happily, quite conceitedly, and continued talking like a string of beads.
“You haven’t forgotten what you told me, have you?”
"What about the hot-boiled mutton from Zhengyang Building, the braised duck from Bianyifang, the roasted steamed buns from Tongheju, the mullet eggs from Dongxing Building, and the braised duck strips from Zhimizhai."
"What a small place, like a stove The warm rotten pork noodles, the stir-fried dumplings from Mujiazhai, and the fried tripe from Jinjialou are all the same.” Wang Zhihe’s stinky tofu, Xinyuanzhai’s sour plum soup, Sanmiaotang’s bowl of cheese, Endeyuan’s steamed buns, Shaguoju’s white meat, Xinghuachun’s flower carvings..."
"These are the famous names in the capital. Eat, if you hadn't told me, how would I have known it was so complete? In these places, you personally guaranteed that there was not a shopkeeper, a cook, or a waiter that you didn't know well. Yes, you, the one standing at the counter, don’t know.”
“But what’s wrong? You are still full of knowledge, so you still want to be my master. I can only rely on you. As the saying goes, what kind of master makes what kind of disciple? ”
As soon as he said this, Kang Shude didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He simply made a gesture with the fire chopsticks and stared.
"Good boy, are you waiting for me here? Are you trying to silence me with my words? Why are you using all your cleverness here!"
Ke Ning Weimin still has The backup plan.
He was happy again and quickly put the two lunch boxes he brought into the house on the table and opened them.
That was totally a show-off seduction.
"Don't be angry, old man. Look at my filial piety. Three taels of steamed buns with pork and green onions, and a large bowl of Tianxingju's stir-fried liver, brought here especially for you... How about we first tell you how I can make a difference? It’s okay. Don’t you want to eat this early?”
The buns are getting steamy.
The smell of fried liver still reaches my nose.
How can Kang Shude, who makes some jasmine tea to wash his intestines in the morning, still hold back?
“Bah! Don’t eat it? If you don’t eat it, it’s called waste. It will be cold in a while.”
The old man smacked his lips and sat down next to the Eight Immortals table.
But as soon as he showed a look of satisfaction, he was still angry and slapped the table at Ning Weimin.
"Is it okay if you have some eyesight? What are you doing here? If you don't want to eat my hot chopsticks, just give me wooden chopsticks..."
"Okay. , just wait.”
Watching Ning Weimin running up and down to open the cupboard.
Kang Shude leaned over and smelled the buns. The aroma of onions and meat made him feel better.
"Well, it tastes okay..."
Then he added another sentence.
"I told you to get some more vinegar in the bowl, otherwise I won't have your chicken stew tonight..."
(End of this chapter)