Xu Chuan’s expression cracked.
So this thing really was alien technology?
System: [Yes, please accept the task, and complete it successfully.]
It took Xu Chuan a long moment to focus on the light screen. What exactly was he supposed to do?
[Prepare an excellent serving of fried rice with eggs.]
Ah, fried rice with eggs—he could handle that.
Seeing Xu Chuan naturally start observing the kitchen and then begin preparing, the system finally exhaled in relief.
But though he seemed quiet, his mind was very active.
Lighting the stove, Xu Chuan resolved to take a steady approach. This alien technology clearly only intended to force him to learn cooking, and he dared not anger it.
Tsk, he was unlucky. Fast asleep just a moment ago, now he was stuck in this place. Cheng Baozhu was probably still snoozing peacefully.
…
Sleep? Cheng Baozhu was scratching her head, frustrated at a pile of messy medicinal herbs.
After entering the space, she had observed Xu Chuan for a bit, found nothing particularly interesting, and wanted to leave.
But the system had said she could sort and prepare these herbs and earn five points as a reward.
Five! Exactly five!
That was ten Big White Rabbit milk candies. Gather ten points, and she could even have a delicate, delicious strawberry mini-cake.
Her craving flared. She really, really wanted that mini-cake. Waiting for Xu Chuan to accumulate ten points? That could take forever. Better to do it herself.
The key was that she could do this task. Back in the day, her grandmother often had her working in the medicine shop—those tasks were far heavier than this.
She had forgotten one thing: learning was like rowing upstream; not advancing meant falling behind.
Even after not writing for a long time, one could forget characters, let alone someone like her who had only half-heartedly studied medicine.
After a few wasted years, most of the knowledge her grandmother had taught her was forgotten. Picking it back up now was no easy feat.
Her cheeks flushed. She had just bragged to the system that she’d get ten points before Xu Chuan.
The system, fully aware of her nature, silently placed a reference book beside her.
The book was thick, part eight of a series totaling several thousand volumes. Every medicinal plant on this planet had already been sampled and cataloged across the books.
Cheng Baozhu cleared her throat, masking embarrassment, and began comparing each plant one by one.
The book included not only pictures and descriptions but even holographic representations, and she could feel the fine fuzz of the plants when touching them. She was amazed.
“Turmeric…” Cheng Baozhu identified it carefully and set it aside.
Proudly, she said, “I haven’t forgotten. Turmeric is cold in nature, tastes pungent and bitter, and the medicinal part is mainly the rhizome.”
[Clap, clap, clap.]
The system mechanically sounded applause.
Cheng Baozhu trembled again and picked up a vine of Panax notoginseng. “Neutral in nature, tastes… tastes bitter, no, slightly bitter…”
What was it used for again? Oh, right—treating constipation and bleeding from wounds.
“Shencai… seems useful for diabetes…”
“Rubia… stops bleeding, caution those without blood stasis.”
Cheng Baozhu settled into her rhythm, pulling together whatever memory she had and cross-referencing the book. Her progress was surprisingly fast.
She was faster than Xu Chuan. By the time she finished sorting, he still hadn’t completed the fried rice!
“Really? Can making fried rice take this long?” she asked, curious, linking with the system to observe.
In fact, the system was in a good mood. Xu Chuan’s progress was fast, his comprehension solid, and now he could make competent fried rice. Soon, he would be able to make an excellent version.
Watching via the screen, Cheng Baozhu saw Xu Chuan being pushed to redo the task by the smart teacher, feeling a strange chill. She was glad she hadn’t taken on the cooking task herself—or she would have been the one tortured.
After observing for a while, satisfied, she left, letting her consciousness fall back into sleep.
…
In the kitchen space, Xu Chuan lay on the floor, grimacing, crying out, “I’m done! Let whoever wants to do it do it, let me out!”
His arms felt useless, barely able to lift.
His mind felt gone too—making the same fried rice dozens, hundreds of times… the thought alone made him want to vomit.
The system asked for the thirty-ninth time: [Host, are you sure you do not wish to continue the task?]
Xu Chuan: …
Based on thirty-nine previous experiences, saying no would result in a ten-second electric shock.
He hated it!
Eyes closed, Xu Chuan steadied himself and got back up.
After so many repetitions, his muscles seemed to remember the motions: crack eggs, chop scallions, select rice.
The system provided multiple types of rice. After hundreds of trials, Xu Chuan wisely chose the leftover rice that yielded the best results.
High heat, iron pan seasoned, hot pan cold oil to fry eggs first. Once golden and broken up, he added the gleaming rice.
Early attempts made him salivate; later, the aroma made him feel nauseous. Gradually, he grew accustomed, even able to judge the heat by scent.
Perhaps true change came from repetition. This time, the stir-frying went smoothly. Using high heat throughout, he broke up the rice with the spatula, stirred in seasoning, and just before finishing, sprinkled in scallions. The fried rice was done.
[Beep, fried rice quality: Excellent. Reward: 3 points.]
The total was five points. The system allocated the remaining two points to Cheng Baozhu, as per their secret agreement.
“Phew—” Xu Chuan exhaled, shoulders sagging.
He immediately exchanged the three points for six candies, then quickly had the system release him.
Out of the space—sleep the next day.
The system’s weather forecast had been accurate. Last night’s rain had soaked the courtyard completely.
The green hills were veiled in mist, looking gentle and elegant in the rain.
The morning air felt frozen, slipping through cracks into the room, making the young couple huddle together.
No one came to deliver breakfast. Xu Chuan slept until naturally waking; Cheng Baozhu was still asleep.
He paused in confusion, then memories of the fried rice gradually returned.
Sighing, he resigned himself.
“Cheng Baozhu, Cheng Baozhu,” he whispered.
No response.
She lay with her head on his arm, breathing evenly. Well, breakfast would be on him today.
Of course, Xu Chuan didn’t know that nearly every meal afterward would be his responsibility.
Grain was scarce. Opening the rice bin, he found less than two jin of rice, the rest were sweet potatoes.
The sweet potatoes had been freshly harvested, typically mixed with rice—this was how even well-off families got through winter.
Those without family resources would eat sweet potatoes three times a day.
Xu Chuan, unwilling to compromise his taste, didn’t like eating sweet potatoes mixed with rice.
So he calmly retrieved the remaining rice, went to the kitchen, and began washing and steaming it. The aroma of the steamed rice filled the kitchen, making Cheng Baozhu wake, salivating.
She threw on clothes, hair messy, and got up.
Outside, the rain dripped off the eaves, forming little muddy puddles by the door.
Xu Chuan brought the rice soup and soft, fluffy rice. Soon, scallion-tossed tofu and chive-fried eggs appeared on the table.
The rice had been boiled halfway, then steamed to maximize its fragrance.
Cheng Baozhu remembered her grandmother doing the same, saying it would keep her from gaining weight even while eating freely.
She quickly brushed her teeth, sipped the warm rice soup, enjoying the aroma and feeling the chill leave her body.
Xu Chuan added some pickled radish from the old house. “If your mouth tastes bitter in the morning, eat this to stimulate appetite.”
Cheng Baozhu bit into it, the sour-spicy flavor making her shiver. “If your mouth is bitter, see a doctor. If you hadn’t stayed up late, bitterness might mean a dental issue.”
Xu Chuan raised an eyebrow. “Old Zhang said the same thing.”
Cheng Baozhu swallowed her food, curious. “Who’s Old Zhang?” She wasn’t used to breakfast yet.
“The barefoot doctor in the commune.” Xu Chuan quickly finished his first bowl and took a second. “I often go up the mountains. When I see herbs like mugwort, Apocynum, or Alpinia, I bring them to Old Zhang and earn a little money.”
That was fine. Old Zhang’s clinic was public; trading herbs there avoided trips to the county purchasing office.
But Old Zhang was demanding, so earning from him wasn’t easy.
Cheng Baozhu said “Oh” and stopped halfway through her second bowl, drinking rice soup and pushing the rest of the rice to Xu Chuan.
He didn’t mind. “I’ll take you to the county later. You won’t have energy if you don’t eat enough in the morning.”
Cheng Baozhu nodded absently, thinking.
If medicine could earn money, could she collect some? She probably knew more herbs than Xu Chuan.
“That won’t work!” Xu Chuan said without hesitation. “Da Wang Mountain is tough. Even your sister-in-law can only gather herbs at the edge. Most herbs are deep in the mountain.”
Cheng Baozhu sighed. “Alright, fine.”
Indeed, it was an unsolvable problem.
She put down her chopsticks and asked casually, “Do you trust that barefoot doctor? Can people really see him when sick?”
Medical resources were scarce. She remembered being discharged just after a fever—money didn’t guarantee a long hospital stay, beds had to go to others.
Xu Chuan thought for a moment. “He’s okay. Last time he gave me some effective medicine.”
Cheng Baozhu asked, “What medicine?”
Before he could answer, Xu Chuan suddenly said, embarrassed, “How would I know? I forgot long ago. Just herbs like Coptis, Prunella, and lotus seeds—you can find them at home anyway.”
Cheng Baozhu’s eyes widened. “For cooling the body, right?”
Xu Chuan’s eyes narrowed. “Done eating? When you finish, I’ll wash the dishes!”
Cheng Baozhu: …
What’s going on here?
Seeing Xu Chuan leave in a rush, his ears red, she was puzzled.
Why was taking cooling herbs so shameful?
Not just Coptis and lotus seeds… huh? Cheng Baozhu suddenly realized.
She ran to the kitchen, leaning over Xu Chuan, asking curiously, “Does this prescription really work? Do you need to soak in water, use five fingers… uh, wait, what, uh…”
Xu Chuan, embarrassed and angry, covered her mouth and pushed her out.
While pushing, he said, “You’re a young lady, why talk about these things like the older women? How dare you say such crude things.”
“Bang—” The little kitchen door slammed shut.
Cheng Baozhu: ?
What crude things was he talking about!?