Although Yan Li’an agreed, he was still in the hospital, and according to regulations, all medications he took and any treatment plans had to be reviewed by the military doctors.
To avoid unnecessary trouble, Su Jinhui simply drafted a complete follow-up treatment plan and submitted it to the military doctors.
Previously, the hospital had often used her case as a model for other doctors, so writing a treatment plan was second nature to her. She finished it in just an hour.
The military doctor carefully read every word, his expression shifting from admiration to shock, disbelief written all over his face.
“Comrade Jinhui, may I study this plan?” the doctor asked eagerly.
She nodded immediately. “Of course. If anything is unclear, feel free to ask me anytime. I’ll explain everything, without holding back.”
The doctor thanked her repeatedly.
Using the excuse of washing cups, Su Jinhui left the ward and didn’t return for a while. When she did, she came back with a full cup of Spiritual Spring water and made him drink it all at once.
Although the water was highly potent and effective, it alone wasn’t enough for rapid wound healing. And since she couldn’t use high-tech solutions, she had to find another approach.
Just as she was pondering, she overheard a conversation at the door.
“The cafeteria’s cooking has been getting worse. Poor husband, eating this bland food every day… who knows when he’ll recover!”
“Exactly! Good nutrition is essential for recovery. If the patient doesn’t eat well, it seriously affects healing.”
A lightbulb went off in Su Jinhui’s mind. She snapped her fingers in excitement, grateful to these strangers for giving her a new idea.
If all things return to their source, then why not use food therapy?
She set to work immediately, but the hospital was far from the military dorm, and she had no transportation. Going back and forth would waste time, and the medicinal meals would cool down, reducing their effectiveness.
After thinking it through, she decided to use the hospital cafeteria’s kitchen.
After some inquiries, she finally located it.
At the entrance, a chef wearing a short white hat was quickly peeling potatoes. Just watching was dizzying; every movement was dangerously close to cutting his fingers, yet he avoided them with perfect precision. In a few swift motions, the potato was peeled spotless.
The island was remote, unsuitable for farming, so the commonly eaten vegetables were ones that could be stored long-term. Potatoes and sweet potatoes were the top choices.
The chef noticed her and looked up. “Comrade, it’s not mealtime yet. Come back in two hours if you want a meal!”
“I’m not here for food. I want to borrow your kitchen,” Su Jinhui replied.
“No can do! Mealtime is almost here, and we’re swamped. How can we let you come and interfere? If everyone misses their meal because of you, are you willing to take responsibility?” the chef said coldly, returning to peeling potatoes.
Su Jinhui took two yuan from her pocket, but before she could hand it over, the chef said, “This is blatant bribery. I won’t accept it. Better go now and don’t cause trouble.”
Clearly, money didn’t appeal to him.
She had no choice but to muster courage, crouched down with tears in her eyes. “My husband almost died on the operating table. He finally woke up, and I just want to cook something for him. How about this: I help you, and when the meal is ready, I’ll use the kitchen to finish my cooking?”
Her sincerity and earnestness were hard to refuse, even for the toughest person.
The chef sighed but still refused. “Comrade, you’re making it difficult for me.”
“Fine! After I’m done, you can use it. But anything you use from the kitchen, you pay for,” came a voice from behind.
She turned sharply and saw a chef wearing a tall white hat walking over. Judging by the hats, the potato peeler was the assistant, and this one was the head chef. No matter his status, as long as he let her use the kitchen, he was a friend.
“Thank you, thank you!” she said, taking the potatoes and knife from him.
The assistant chef got up and gave her his spot. She stared at the large bowl of potatoes, determined to finish them all.
Su Jinhui started peeling carefully. Her technique wasn’t perfect, but it was efficient.
An hour and a half later, she finished peeling all the potatoes.
With time tight, the chef assigned her the next task: cutting the potatoes into thin strips. Luckily, she worked with the assistant chef and finished quickly.
She didn’t idle; wherever there was work, she jumped in, helping until all the ingredients were arranged at the serving window. Only then did the kitchen staff relax.
The remaining tasks were handled by the serving staff, leaving the kitchen free for her.
“Girl, now it’s your time. Don’t let your husband wait too long,” the head chef said, patting her shoulder as he left with the others.
Outside, evening was falling. Her husband was still lying in the hospital bed, hungry. Su Jinhui wasted no time. Her eyes scanned the ingredients, and recipes formed instantly in her mind.
She took six wild oysters, just palm-sized, and pried them open, keeping both the meat and shells. Sea salt dissolved in the spring water completely submerged the oysters.
She soaked a small amount of rice in the spring water, washed sea shrimp and dried scallops, then placed the rice in a clay pot, poured in 500 ml of spring water.
By now, the oysters were marinated. She ground the medicinal herbs into powder, mixed a secret sauce, and spread it evenly over each oyster.
She placed a metal grill over the fire, heated it, and grilled the oysters, letting the seafood flavor infuse the rice porridge.
Her process was meticulous, logical, and efficient—she wasted not a second.
Su Jinhui served a few small bowls of porridge to the kitchen staff. “There’s plenty left in the pot. Everyone try some. I might need your help again tomorrow.”
The assistant chef licked his lips. “Comrade, no wonder your husband wants to eat your cooking after barely surviving death. You really know your stuff. I could smell it all the way at the door!”
Su Jinhui smiled shyly. “Actually, this is a medicinal meal for him, for recovery. You can taste it too, no problem.”
The head chef took a careful bite. The complex layers and flavors exploded in his mouth, spreading rich aroma and freshness through every cell. He exclaimed, “This medicinal meal is incredible! Delicious!”
The other kitchen staff all echoed his praise, amazed by her culinary skills.
Su Jinhui blushed, left the money by the clay pot, and hurriedly carried the meal to Yan Li’an—afraid he’d go hungry and afraid the food would cool, reducing its effectiveness.