“Alright,” Shen Guoguo said, forcing down a laugh as she handed the small knife to Huo Tao and fetched another basin of hot water for him to rinse the bristles again.
While Huo Tao focused on cleaning the pig bristles, she began handling the lard fat.
This was also part of tonight’s dinner to welcome Yang Ming.
The slab of pork fat was enormous. Some parts were full of impurities and lymph nodes that were hard to spot, so Shen Guoguo first cut it into smaller chunks.
After cleaning and washing it twice, she chopped it into egg-sized pieces.
By the time she finished cutting up the whole basin of fat, her arms were sore.
She poured some water into the pot and blanched the fat. When her wristband’s one-minute timer ended, she scooped the pieces out.
That step removed the blood from the fat.
She dumped the bloody water, rinsed the pieces several more times, scrubbed the pot clean, poured in a bowl of fresh water, and finally began her favorite step—rendering the oil.
As the white cubes of fat hit the pot, they sizzled sharply.
Once most of the water evaporated, the fat turned translucent, and a rich fragrance spread through the air.
Unfortunately, there was no ginger or green onion…
When the cracklings started to turn golden brown, a large amount of lard appeared.
Shen Guoguo found a medium-sized iron basin, wiped it clean, and sprinkled a thin layer of salt on the bottom—this would help the rendered lard last longer.
People living in the nearby alley soon poked their heads out.
“What’s that smell? It’s so good!”
“Hiss, it’s coming from Huo Tao’s place!”
Several people came outside and saw Shen Guoguo sitting in front of the door. They couldn’t tell what was in her pot, but the amazing aroma was definitely coming from there.
Gradually, a crowd gathered around her.
Shen Guoguo lifted her head, smiled at the onlookers, and grinned broadly.
Truth be told, she actually had a bit of social anxiety—real, crippling social anxiety—especially when so many people were staring at her while she cooked.
“Huo Tao’s wife, what are you making there?” someone asked.
“Just rendering some oil,” Shen Guoguo replied.
“Huh? Oil? Isn’t that supposed to be extracted or refined in factories?”
“You can make oil yourself?”
“They’re not the same thing…” Shen Guoguo muttered, but gave up explaining—no one would understand anyway.
She poured the crispy bits into a basin, shook them a few times to cool them, pulled out a pair of chopsticks, and picked up a piece for Huo Tao. “Here, try the original flavor first.”
Others might not know what this was, but Huo Tao had watched the whole process—how that white mutant-beast waste was transformed into this.
Out of trust for Shen Guoguo, he opened his mouth and ate a piece.
Soft, fragrant, with an indescribable flavor—one bite made him want another.
Judging by his expression, Shen Guoguo knew it had turned out well.
She filled a small bowl and brought it to the neighbors. “Here, everyone, try some.”
The people living here were all poor. They might be calculating when it came to tiny profits, but they weren’t malicious. Seeing that Huo Tao had eaten it, they felt reassured and each took a piece.
Many of them had grown up only on nutrient supplements, never real food—let alone something like pork cracklings.
The rich, savory taste amazed them instantly.
Madam Li took another small handful right away. “So good! Huo Tao’s wife, how did you make this?”
“Oh come on, why do you have to pry about everything?” someone nearby scolded her.
The method of making food was the most valuable secret in Windsoil City—nobody just shared it like that.
“It’s fine,” Shen Guoguo said with a sweet smile.
After Huo Tao’s accident, neither his brother Huo Hai nor his mother had done anything for him except ask for his nutrient supplements. He’d survived partly thanks to his own willpower, but also because of the help of kind neighbors.
She didn’t mind returning a bit of kindness.
She wanted to make money, yes—but not from these people. Her ambitions were far beyond this alley.
Besides, what she was doing was just rendering lard—it wasn’t exactly a big secret.
“This comes from the fat of mutant beasts. As long as it’s this kind of white, greasy meat, you can render it into oil.”
Then she demonstrated the process again.
This time she didn’t bother explaining too much; even if she did, they wouldn’t understand the theory behind it. Just remembering the steps was enough.
The crowd watched with fascination.
“Didn’t expect it! Huo Tao’s wife, you’re actually a real cook,” Madam Li sighed.
Huo Tao was good-looking and, before he was injured, had been quite capable.
Now he’d even been paired with a professional cook—his life would surely keep getting better.
That was what everyone thought. Fate, after all, had its way of returning people to the path they were meant to walk.
As more and more people gathered, Shen Guoguo decided to wrap up—otherwise, the patrol robots would soon show up.
“That’s all there is to it,” she said. “Just be careful not to burn yourselves when doing it.”
“When it cools, the oil will turn into a white solid. You can use it as a lubricant or for cooking. And the crispy bits are what you just tasted.”
Seeing her start to pack up, everyone thanked her and dispersed.
No one wanted to attract the security robots’ attention.
Huo Tao was about to help her clean up, but Shen Guoguo stopped him.
“Wait,” she said, taking out the sugar jar. She sprinkled a light dusting of sugar over the cracklings. “Try it again.”
Puzzled, Huo Tao picked up a piece coated in sugar and tasted it.
It melted in his mouth.
The flavor was completely different—sweet, crisp, and delicate.
“This…” He was astonished, grabbing another piece to eat.
“It’s delicious.”
“Heehee, I’m glad you like it. Here, these are all for you—your snacks.”
Snacks…
Huo Tao remembered reading that word in old archives at the command center.
In the old world, when food was abundant, people used to eat things casually between meals. Snacks were every child’s favorite.
Did Guoguo think of him as a child?
He lowered his voice slightly. “I’m not a child. I don’t need snacks. You keep them.”
“Yes, yes, of course you’re not a child,” Shen Guoguo teased with a grin. “You’re a big man—the biggest on this street.”
She popped a sugar-coated crackling into her mouth.
It really was good.
Huo Tao felt like there was something off about her words, but couldn’t quite figure out what, so he just kept scrubbing the pig bristles.
Shen Guoguo hugged the basin of cracklings, munching as she watched the handsome man work.
When the tips of his ears turned red, she couldn’t hold back her giggles, then finally put down the bowl and began preparing dinner.
With lard now ready, everything else would be easier.
She took out the pig liver.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to use intestines or other organs, but they’d be too hard to explain to Yang Ming.
Pig liver—well, the liver of the Wujin Beast—should be acceptable.
The massive liver was sliced into thin strips and soaked in half a jar of white liquor.
Even in this wasteland world, pig liver was the organ that filtered toxins and blood, so it had to be handled carefully. The liquor not only removed the odor but also disinfected it.
After five minutes, she rinsed the liver clean and seasoned it with salt and a spoonful of freshly rendered lard.
There was no soy sauce or pepper here, so she could only rely on the most basic, original flavor.