Chapter 47: Braised Bamboo Rat and Crispy Stir-Fried Shrimp

[666!] The System Cat cheered excitedly for Chen Ji.

“I’m fine, Xiao Ba. Go get the fatty pork from the fridge and thaw it,” Chen Ji said as he put away the electric baton and turned to Second Master Huang.

Second Master Huang was looking right back at him.

Compared to the gray rat sprawled on the ground, foaming at the mouth and struggling for every shallow breath, Chen Ji seemed far too calm. There wasn’t a trace of the panic that came from being stalked and attacked by a spirit beast, nor any tension or thrill from nearly killing his foe. It was as mundane as plucking a flower or digging up a bamboo shoot.

He was exactly the same as always.

The young man’s dark eyes curved into a slight smile. “What would be wrong with me? Second Grandpa, today’s shoots are nice and tender. Do you want oil-braised bamboo shoots, stir-fried shoots with shepherd’s purse, or maybe we could stew up some pork ribs and bamboo shoot soup?”

Second Master Huang had still been puzzling over Chen Ji’s utter lack of emotional reaction when those words hit him. His little head filled instantly with mouthwatering visions of food, and his tail started wagging furiously. [Can’t we just have them all?]

“You’d get sick of that. I’ve still got the fatty pork ready,” Chen Ji replied. He took the bamboo basket from Second Grandpa Huang and pointed at the shoot he’d already dug out by a third. Second Grandpa Huang got the hint right away. He stomped over and kicked the rest of the shoot free with one foot, shoved it into the basket, then took the basket back himself. [Then let’s add some shoots to the fatty pork… Better let your Second Grandpa handle the heavy lifting. I’m worried that little body of yours might snap under the weight.]

[Congratulations, player ‘Chen Ji’! You’ve completed the ‘Gather Herbs’ task. Rewards: 100 Points, 100 Random Herb Seeds, 1 Advanced Pigment Set, 1 Random Lottery Draw.]

“Sure thing. Then I’ll leave it to you, Second Grandpa,” Chen Ji said. He’d just heard the system’s chime—no wonder the System Cat had hyped up the rewards so much and nagged him to take the task. He didn’t argue further. With that Sweet Dragon Bamboo shoot tossed in, the basket had to weigh at least twenty pounds. As a total weakling, he was happy to skip carrying it.

Spotting that Chen Ji had finished the task, the System Cat switched views. There was Chen Ji strolling along all relaxed, while Second Grandpa Huang’s mighty, domineering two-meter-eight dharma image trailed behind like a hired hand—hoisting the bamboo basket and clutching a big handful of leaf strips for some reason.

[Chen Ji?] the System Cat called out. [Hey, um… You finished the ten-jin herb-gathering quest. Come back and do the lottery… Chen Ji, isn’t this a little unfair to him?]

[How’s it unfair?] Chen Ji shot back in his head. [If you wanna eat, you work for it… We’ll keep an eye out for good eats on the way home.]

The System Cat shivered from head to toe. It suspected Chen Ji was taking a jab at it. [I… haha, we’re out of seasonings at home. I’ll go grab some right now!]

Chen Ji smiled faintly. Then, out of nowhere, he said, “It’d be perfect if we could find some mushrooms too…”

Second Master Huang replied offhandedly, [Mushrooms? Plenty of those! If you want mushrooms, head a bit farther back—big pine woods on the back mountain, loaded with matsutake!]

“Sounds great. Lead the way, Second Grandpa?” Chen Ji glanced back at the gray rat on the ground. “Can we eat this rat?”

Second Master Huang blurted out on reflex, [Sure! It’s a bamboo rat—pretty damn tasty too…]

The words had barely left his mouth when a chill crawled up his spine. [You… you wanna eat it?]

“If it’s good, we should take it. Hate to waste food.” Chen Ji spun on his heel, strode back to the gray rat, and hoisted it up by one claw. Pinching the nape with three fingers, he gave a sharp twist. A crisp crack echoed, and the bamboo rat’s head lolled at an unnatural angle. Chen Ji hauled it back and dropped it in the basket.

Even if it wasn’t edible, Chen Ji would’ve taken the gray rat anyway.

Last time, the White Tiger had devoured that Crossing Peak Serpent intent on killing him, yet it still had enough juice left in its bones to stir up trouble. This one was way weaker, but better safe than sorry. Might as well take it home, skin and debone it, then braise or grill the meat.

Hearing it was a bamboo rat, though, shifted Chen Ji’s plans from “stew it as an offering for Grandpa Mountain Lord” to “this bamboo rat’s got heatstroke—might as well eat it ourselves.”

He’d never tried bamboo rat before, but everyone said it was delicious. Back when Taobao shipped anything, they went for seventy bucks a jin cleaned—and a whole one like this? Easy two hundred! No way was he passing up a taste of something that pricey.

Plus, if the gray rat pulled any posthumous tricks, it’d be easier to stomach. After all, he’d eaten the damn thing—whatever revenge it mustered would just be settling the score.

Second Master Huang tested the waters. [So… still hitting the back mountain?]

Chen Ji mulled it over. The heat was climbing. “Nah, let’s head home. Don’t want it going off. Second Grandpa, you’ve got eagle eyes—spot any fresh veggies on the way, give a holler. We can grab some for a cold salad to cut through the richness.”

[You got it!] Second Master Huang promised without hesitation. When they reached the stream, Chen Ji paused to wash his hands. Cool water slipped through his fingers as he beckoned Second Master Huang over. “Second Grandpa, c’mere!”

Second Master Huang shifted to his true form and padded up. Chen Ji scooped him into one hand and held him over the water, grasping those tiny paws to scrub them clean. Perched on Chen Ji’s shoe, Second Master Huang grumbled, [Your Second Grandpa ain’t helpless… I can wash my own damn paws…]

Chen Ji gently massaged the little paw pads with his thumb, grinning. “You’ve worked so hard today, Second Grandpa. I’m puny—best I can do is handle the small stuff.”

Second Master Huang couldn’t really argue with that. The stream water was chilly, but Chen Ji’s hands were nice and warm, warming the flow between them. It didn’t feel so cold anymore. Second Master Huang scrubbed its paws diligently and instinctively clutched one of Chen Ji’s fingers.

Chen Ji meticulously rinsed the paws, then pulled out a face towel, soaked it, and wiped the dust from Second Master Huang’s fur. The little face poked out from under the towel. [What the hell are you doing?!]

Chen Ji had already given it a full wipe-down. He let go, and Second Master Huang gave its sleek body a shake, shooting him a aggrieved look. [You soaked my fur!]

“Just needs a breeze to dry!” Chen Ji burst out laughing and reached to tousle him again. Second Master Huang dodged like a shot, refusing to play towel. Chen Ji shrugged it off and started to stand—then froze as a few tiny, near-invisible shrimp zipped through the stream.

“Whoa, shrimp!” Chen Ji exclaimed, eyes lighting up.

God only knew how long it’d been since he’d had live shrimp. Frozen or prepped was fine, sure, but nothing beat fresh—especially tiny river shrimp. Dead ones were worthless; even frozen didn’t cut it.

[Eh, so what…] Second Master Huang started, but trailed off as Chen Ji dug into the basket and fished out a net bag. Thin and see-through, but look close and you’d see the impossibly fine mesh—the notorious family-ending net.

Shrimp didn’t stand a chance. Hell, not even water weeds.

“Take it easy, Second Grandpa.” Chen Ji had trapped shrimp here plenty as a kid. He called out to Second Master Huang, grabbed the sickle, and scoured the bank. He zeroed in on a spot and dug like mad, unearthing a handful of earthworms in no time.

Ruthlessly, he chopped them into seven or eight bits. He rummaged for the plastic bag from those cooked quail eggs, rolled the segments in the dregs of broth to soak it up, dumped the mess into the net, and submerged it. Stones weighed down the edges; he sliced the top off a mineral water bottle, flipped it as a funnel—boom, instant shrimp trap.

Second Master Huang lounged in the sun, watching with admiring clucks. [Humans and their gadgets.]

Chen Ji rinsed his hands and plopped down beside him. “Second Grandpa like ’em too?”

[Hell yeah.] Second Master Huang yawned cavernously. [Problem is, they’re a bitch to catch.]

These river shrimp were pint-sized speed demons. Pre-spirit days? Squat stock-still by the stream for ages till they dropped their guard, then pounce—and even that might net you one or two after hours. Barely a snack.

Post-spirit? Piece of cake. But… busting out cultivation to snag river shrimp? Pathetic.

Chen Ji read the wistfulness in Second Master Huang’s eyes. Scooping him up, he ruffled that head. “Oil-burst shrimp for dinner, then? Eat till you’re stuffed. It’s my specialty.”

Second Master Huang nodded like mad, nuzzling deep into Chen Ji’s chest.

The sun had everything melting into goo; he felt like a limp noodle, bones dissolving.

Folks said any human who could talk could lie—but damn, that sounded good. No wonder demons kept tumbling for them since forever.

Prime naptime, too. Chen Ji, worn out from the morning’s hustle, felt sleep crashing over him and nodded off before he knew it. Second Master Huang sprawled on his belly, tail flicking lazily. Then it flipped belly-up to bake.

Kid was still young—crashing out in the wild sans mat or bug spray… Eh, whatever. With Second Grandpa on watch, no snakes, bugs, or rats were getting near.

Chen Ji woke utterly refreshed, lazy warmth seeping from his bones. He stretched hugely, groped for his phone—and first hit the soft fur of Second Master Huang on his gut. He gave it a good rub before snagging the phone.

Three-thirty in the afternoon.

Holy hell—three-plus hours.

Second Master Huang stirred, blinking blearily. [Huh? Rain?]

“Nope, just overslept.” Chen Ji set Second Master Huang down and checked the trap. The spot hadn’t seen humans in ages; the shrimp had zero caution. He hauled it up—net crammed with glassy river shrimp, all wriggling and bouncing like mad to break free.

Chen Ji beamed and dangled it for Second Master Huang, who rubbed his eyes. [Whoa, that many?!]

“Come on, home time,” Chen Ji urged. “Gotta hustle, or the shrimp’ll die and taste like crap!”

Second Master Huang didn’t hesitate. He immediately revealed his Dharma Image. Chen Ji draped a piece of clothing over the bamboo basket and tied it down tight, ensuring the creatures inside couldn’t jump out. With that done, he hopped onto the Yellow Weasel supercar and sped toward home at breakneck speed.

To Second Master Huang, this short distance was a piece of cake. He tore through the leaves of the trees, carving out a clear trail in his wake. In the distance, White Tiger crouched at the temple gate. As if sensing their approach, he turned to gaze in their direction.

Chen Ji waved enthusiastically and shouted, “Grandpa White Tiger—we’re back from the hunt!”

Second Master Huang: …?

…It didn’t seem wrong, did it?