However, when it came to the other cats in the village, Chen Jingle didn’t just tease them; he mainly scared them and chased them away. There was nothing else he could do.
In the countryside, cats were rarely neutered. Mother cats had too many litters to care for, and since few people wanted to keep local breeds these days, kittens were often dumped far away and left to fend for themselves. The lucky few that survived became strays.
The village had a significant stray population. Furthermore, the villagers rarely fed their own cats properly, leaving them to scavenge every day. Many of these owned cats and feral strays had set their sights on his cat food, frequently sneaking over to steal a bite. The food meant for the tiger cub had been raided and pillaged by outside cats several times, making him grind his teeth in frustration.
During the nights of spring and autumn, they would continuously caterwaul outside his house. It sounded like a baby crying and was incredibly eerie.
His personal capabilities were limited; he was destined to be unable to raise that many cats. If all the strays in the village gathered here and eventually caused trouble, people would just pin the blame on him. Just a few days ago, a stray cat had broken into a villager’s kitchen. Since that particular cat often loitered near Chen Jingle’s house, they assumed it was his and showed up at his door demanding an explanation. He had to waste a lot of breath clarifying the situation.
His "Meowish" proved incredibly effective. After a round of scolding and roaring, not a single cat dared to linger nearby.
Chen Jingle was quite pleased with himself. He figured rumors were already spreading among the feline community about a humanoid monster that could speak their language.
Of course, a simple shooing was enough. He didn’t want people to catch him meowing. Otherwise, all sorts of bizarre rumors would spread through the village by tomorrow, claiming he had been possessed by a cat demon or had encountered some evil spirit. A new rural urban legend would be born. Yikes!
One could never underestimate the rumor-mongering abilities of gossiping village women. If you were out delivering takeout, they could twist it into you selling yourself on the streets. Even someone as capable as Chen Jingle had to tuck his tail between his legs and keep a low profile back in the village.
[Practice time has arrived. A smart baby must certainly learn theoretical knowledge, but hands-on practice is equally indispensable. Little Chen Jingle, please choose one of the four compulsory courses—Cooking, Planting, Breeding, or Health Care—to begin your study. The time limit is one hour. You can definitely do it, right, baby?]
After a ten-minute break, the system prompt appeared again. It was another practical lesson.
This time, however, Chen Jingle didn’t choose planting; he opted for cooking instead. He had already experienced the planting practical and wanted to see what the cooking one entailed.
After the course started, he didn’t notice any immediate differences, so he didn’t pay it much mind. He walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, which was still stocked with quite a few ingredients.
The moment the ingredients entered his line of sight, various dishes related to them instantly sprang into his mind—some utilizing them as the main component, others as secondary ingredients. There were many dishes he hadn’t even heard of before, yet they now vividly surfaced in his thoughts.
Even more remarkably, he felt as if he had completely grasped the essence of cooking each dish. That sensation of being possessed by a master returned. Only this time, it was a master chef.
"Hiss..." Chen Jingle drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening. "I feel like this effect is even more exaggerated than the planting skill!"
Perhaps because he was more familiar with cooking than flower cultivation, the impact felt stronger. This knowledge wasn’t something an ordinary cook could possess; it was the repertoire of at least a star-rated hotel’s head chef, or even a true culinary master. It was a technique mastered only through transcendent talent combined with countless repetitions!
As for exactly how powerful it was, he wouldn’t know until he tried. What was he waiting for? Time to get started!
"How about some Guobaorou?" Chen Jingle pondered.
There happened to be a small piece of pork tenderloin in the fridge, left over from making chili pork soup over rice for lunch. Combined with other side ingredients, making Guobaorou—sweet and sour crispy pork—wouldn’t be a problem.
Guobaorou was a classic Northeast dish. Chen Jingle had never made it before, but he had eaten it and had a deep impression of it. His primary memory was just how delicious it was; a single person could polish off more than half a plate without feeling sick of it.
The moment the thought of Guobaorou popped into his head, various cooking methods and techniques for the dish gushed forth like a spring. At this moment, Chen Jingle felt like he was the genius boy chef, Master Boy! He wondered if this was what it felt like to be a top-tier boss.
"Watch me show off my skills!" Filled with lofty ambitions, he rubbed his hands together, unable to wait any longer.
Guobaorou didn’t require many ingredients. The pork tenderloin was the key, followed by julienned scallions, ginger, and garlic, shredded carrots, and a few cilantro stems. As for white pepper and cooking wine, his kitchen already had those. Everything was ready!
First, he sliced the tenderloin. To make it more flavorful, he had to pat both sides of the meat slices with the flat of his knife before marinating them. This was a trick only veteran cooks knew, yet Chen Jingle executed it effortlessly.
Next, he prepared the starch slurry. Once the soaked starch had settled, he poured off the surface water and used the remainder to coat the meat.
Then, he mixed the sauce. The sauce was the soul of Guobaorou. In some regions, they used a sweet and sour sauce; in others, a tomato-based sauce or even an orange sauce. Different regions bred different culinary cultures. There was no absolute rule on which to use; it all came down to personal preference. However, if the sauce wasn’t mixed well, the dish could easily fail.
Yet Chen Jingle, who had never made this dish before, expertly mixed it by feel. He dipped a chopstick in and took a taste. Mm, perfect. This was the exact ratio! Get faster updates on novelping dot com.
For a dish that required deep-frying, a mother-infuriating amount of cooking oil was unavoidable. Fortunately, the oil could be reused for everyday stir-frying without any issues.
He dropped the meat slices in when the oil reached about sixty percent heat. They needed to be fried three times. The first fry was to cook them through and set their shape. The second was to lock in the internal moisture so the meat wouldn’t be dry. The third fry was to color and crisp them up, achieving that perfect crispy-on-the-outside, tender-on-the-inside texture.
Chen Jingle rarely made deep-fried dishes, but right now, he handled every step with ease and perfect execution, completely unruffled.
The final step was coating the meat with the sauce. He used a little residual oil to stir-fry the aromatics until fragrant, poured in the mixed sauce to bring it to a boil, and then tossed in the fried meat slices. He flipped the wok back and forth, ensuring every single slice of meat was evenly coated in the sauce, before plating it up.
And just like that, a plate of Guobaorou was complete.
It smelled incredible! Sweet and sour flavors were always the most appetizing. Just smelling this aroma was enough to make anyone drool! The greasy smoke during the deep-frying process hadn’t smelled great, but once the dish was finished, only the mouthwatering fragrance remained.
The entire kitchen was filled with the aroma of Guobaorou. As the scent drifted outside on the wind, it immediately caught the attention of his neighbors.
"Where is that meat smell coming from?"
"What is that kid next door cooking up? It smells so good!"
"It’s only past three o’clock, and he’s already making dinner?"
"Eating meat every single day, at every single meal. How extravagant. He has no idea how to live frugally!"
Without a doubt, they were all salivating over Chen Jingle’s Guobaorou. Unfortunately for them, they wouldn’t get to taste it; Chen Jingle was destined to enjoy it all by himself.
"Time to eat!" he declared, decisively picking up a piece and stuffing it into his mouth.
As he finished the first piece, experiencing an explosive level of pleasure on his taste buds, he found it somewhat unbelievable. "Did... did I really make this?!"