After the family split up, my stepmother and scumbag father begged me to come home.

Aunt Ding was standing in the middle of the yard, the spoonful of excrement already spilled on the ground. She stood with her hands on her hips, watching the three children enter, both angry and amused: "Qianqian, tell me the truth, did you really eat those poisoned potatoes?"

"You really ate it," Lin Qianqian nodded. "It's poisonous if eaten raw, but if you soak it in water for a day and a night and then cook it thoroughly, it'll be fine."

Aunt Ding looked at the three of them with some skepticism, examining them from head to toe several times. She even made them stick out their tongues to look at them before she finally believed them completely.

"You're really something," Aunt Ding exclaimed in amazement. "People in the village avoid this stuff like the plague, but you've managed to figure out how to cook it."

"That stone mill..." Lin Qianqian asked tentatively.

"Grind it!" Aunt Ding slapped her thigh. "You wait here, I'll bring the millstone out for you!"

Ding Xiaohu's father was a skilled basket weaver, and their stone mill was one of the largest in the village; it usually took several people taking turns pushing it to grind beans and wheat. Aunt Ding washed the millstone clean, and Lin Qianqian stacked the soaked poisoned potatoes one by one on it.

"I'll push," Ding Xiaohu said, rolling up his sleeves.

"Me too," Lin Yulong chimed in.

The two pushed the millstone handle from the left and right, and the millstone creaked and turned. They added water as they worked, and the milky white liquid flowed down the millstone's seam. A faint smell of raw sweet potato wafted out, not pungent, but rather a little fragrant.

Lin Qianqian squatted at the millstone to catch the pulp, thinking to herself: if these poisonous potatoes are ground into pulp and then precipitated to make starch, that will be cassava starch.

"Is this the starch you were talking about...?" Aunt Ding asked curiously as she leaned closer.

"Auntie, this is just the first step. We still need to let it settle and dry it before we can get starch," Lin Qianqian explained patiently.

"What's the use of this starch?" Aunt Ding asked again.

"It's for thickening," Lin Qianqian smiled, "It's more translucent than cornstarch, making the dishes look shiny and appetizing."

"Oh my," Aunt Ding clicked her tongue, "this poisonous potato can actually be so useful."

After grinding the last basket, Lin Qianqian straightened up and carried the wooden bucket filled with pulp to the side: "Auntie, I'll borrow this bucket for now and return it to you another day."

"Here are a few broken wooden buckets, take them and use them!" Aunt Ding waved her hand, "I'll have your Uncle Ding make a few more another day."

"I'm so sorry!" Lin Qianqian said politely, but she had already firmly lifted the bucket in her hands.

Aunt Ding was amused by her appearance: "You little rascal, trying to pull this on your aunt."

Lin Qianqian chuckled and beckoned Lin Yulong and Ding Xiaohu to carry the bucket.

The three of them had just reached the gate of the courtyard when they bumped into someone.

Ding Yuxiang stood outside the door, craning her neck to look inside. When she saw them come out, she took two steps back, but her eyes remained fixed on the bucket of liquid.

Lin Qianqian paused, glancing at her indifferently.

Ding Yuxiang's lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but she swallowed it back. Finally, she turned her face away, pretended to be passing by, and walked away quickly.

Lin Yulong muttered to himself, "Sis, she wouldn't want some too, would she?"

"Who cares about her?" Lin Qianqian said, and walked away.

The three of them turned the corner, the liquid in the wooden bucket sloshing around, gleaming with a white, moist light.

At first, I didn't feel it was that heavy, but it really proved the old saying, "No light meals on a long journey."

They finally carried it into the yard, and the group of people sat down on the ground, exhausted.

With a dry mouth and throat, I didn't care about being particular and started gulping down the water with the ladle.

The intense heat had subsided somewhat.

Lin Qianqian placed the wooden bucket in the kitchen and deliberately opened the window to let it air out, waiting for it to settle.