Orchid mushrooms had a short cultivation cycle.
Under suitable indoor conditions using cotton-waste beds, they could be harvested as early as the eighth or ninth day, and the first cycle usually finished around thirteen days.
So Yun Xi estimated that as long as nothing unexpected happened, she would be eating fresh orchid mushrooms in ten days.
From that day on, her only task was to check on the growth process inside her improvised mushroom room— from mycelium running, to primordia formation, to the development of tiny fruiting bodies.
After ten full days of careful tending, she finally saw it— the mushrooms had hardened, the caps were conical, and they were ready for picking.
Because this was her first attempt in crude conditions, the mushrooms weren’t large. Some grew well, some weak, but all were usable. Yun Xi gently pressed a finger at the base and twisted each mushroom off without disturbing the surrounding substrate.
By the time she finished harvesting, she had several full baskets of orchid mushrooms.
Her first ancient-world cultivation experiment—a complete success.
She took one basket into the kitchen, planning to cook something warm and delicious for her family: orchid mushroom porridge.
When she searched the kitchen, she found only one bowl of rice—precious rice.
The villagers had recently collected seeds for the next season and distributed the leftover grains evenly among all homes. That small bowl of rice was considered a luxury, and Madam Yun had not allowed anyone to touch it.
Yun Xi washed a handful of mushrooms, sliced them, and simmered them in water.
She rinsed the rice, let it soak, then added it to the fragrant mushroom broth.
The porridge simmered slowly while she diced the softened mushrooms and stirred them back in.
Soon, a warm aroma drifted through the entire courtyard— natural rice fragrance mingled with the deep, mellow sweetness of mushrooms.
Yun Xi inhaled deeply.
Yes—this was the familiar taste she remembered.
Even if the mushrooms weren’t thick and plump, the flavor was rich, and the untouched natural water of this world made the rice’s aroma even purer.
Footsteps.
Voices.
“What’s that smell? So fragrant!”
“Xier, you’re cooking? What did you make?”
Madam Yun and Yun Dahai returned from the mountain, stepping into the yard with astonished faces.
“Father, Mother, you’re just in time. I’ve made dinner.”
Aside from the porridge, Yun Xi had stir-fried a plate of sweet-potato stems and made a simple mushroom dish.
Both parents sat down, eyes wide with curiosity.
Yun Dahai tasted one spoonful of porridge— his eyes brightened instantly.
The warm fragrance lingered on his tongue.
“Xier… what is this? It tastes wonderful. These white ones—can they be cooked both as porridge and as vegetables?”
He picked up a slice of mushroom, examining it.
“Father, this is called orchid mushroom. I grew them myself—the spores were something I found in the mountains.”
She had intended to hide the truth, but after thinking carefully, she found no excuse that wouldn’t arouse suspicion. Honesty was simpler.
As always, Yun Dahai gave her that deep, searching glance, then continued eating without comment.
Madam Yun, however, was full of questions:
Where did she find the spores?
How did she grow them?
How did she make the stir-fry?
How did she cook the stems?
She chattered nonstop the whole meal.
And Yun Xi answered patiently, one question after another.
By the end of dinner, Madam Yun was dazed— her daughter, who once refused to lift a finger in the kitchen, now cooked like this?
And even understood wild plants, mushrooms, and cultivation techniques?
She truly felt as if her daughter had changed into a different person.
A more capable one.