外面的喧嚣很快散了，村里人陆陆续续回了家，楚佳正蹲在灶台边，往锅里添柴火。木头"啪"地爆开，火星子溅到她手上，她甩了甩，咧嘴笑了笑，"嘿，还真是火候，正好炖猪食呢。"娘给她送了只刚褪毛的炉鸡，她用那把用了多年的小刀，笨拙地剔着骨头。

那烧火的事，她倒学得快。就是柴火得先劈好，大小得均匀，不然烧着烧着就灭了。这点活计，她娘教过两遍，她记下了。今天烧了半晌，手倒是热了，身上也出了汗。她擦了擦，又拿起刀，往鸡身上下刀。

鸡骨头很硬，她手劲儿没控制好，刀背砸到了手背，疼得她"嘶"了一声。不过，这点疼对她来说不算什么。她咬咬牙，继续剔。这不就是练手的功夫吗？娘以前让她练绣花，她说手笨，练不好。现在看来，这剔骨头比绣花简单多了。

剔了半天，她才把鸡收拾利索。鸡毛给她划破了手指，血珠子渗出来，她用嘴一吹，血就止住了。她把鸡块扔进锅里，加足了水，盖上盖子，就坐在灶台边看火。

火苗舔舐着锅底，发出"呼呼"的声响。屋里亮着油灯，昏黄的光映着她专注的脸。她想起/approaching the mansion of cultivation, she'd been so full of hope and excitement. Now, after a year, she still hadn't broken through to the second stage. Some disciples had even advanced to the third stage.

She sighed inwardly. Her aptitude wasn't top-notch; she was just stubborn. Every time she failed, she'd just get back up and try again. This was her path. No matter how difficult it was, she wouldn't give up. She had to keep climbing.