Chapter 22: A Feast in the Making
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation.
There was simply too much meat to prepare all at once, and Yu Sheng found himself staring at the enormous pile of fresh, unfamiliar flesh. He decided it would be wise—and much more fun—to turn it into several different dishes. After all, as the old saying went, “The first time is awkward, the second time is better, and by the third time, you’ve tossed in scallions, ginger, and cooking wine.” It struck him that ancient humans must have learned about nature’s gifts in the same way, slowly experimenting until they discovered what tasted best.
Humming a light tune under his breath, Yu Sheng set to work. He took the largest piece of meat and chopped it into big, sturdy chunks. First, he blanched these pieces in boiling water to chase away any traces of blood. Then he tucked them neatly into a clay pot, adding star anise, fennel, cloves, and cinnamon sticks—just the right blend of warming spices. Next came a careful splash of water, a pinch of salt, a trickle of soy sauce, and a dash of cooking wine to tame any odd, gamey flavor. He placed the lid on the pot and set it to simmer over gentle heat, knowing that time and warmth would work their magic on the dish.
While his hearty stew bubbled softly on the stove, Yu Sheng set aside some of the leftover meat for stir-frying. He decided on two dishes: one with spicy red chili peppers and another with crisp green garlic shoots. With quick and nimble movements, he stir-fried the meat until it was tender and smelled better than any feast he’d ever conjured from his kitchen before. When he sampled a bite, he found it astonishingly delicate and juicy. If he had to compare, it reminded him somewhat of an especially soft cut of beef, but with its own unique flavor that made him want more.
He still had more meat left. Yu Sheng’s mind sparked with possibilities. Perhaps he would turn the extra pieces into cured meat once he confirmed it was safe. Or maybe he could even try drying it into jerky with an air fryer, like a bold culinary explorer. He had never done that before, and the thought thrilled him. It was as though he had become a daring scientist in his own little kitchen-lab, testing one unknown idea after another.
For nearly two hours, Yu Sheng bustled about, chopping, stirring, tasting, and adjusting the seasonings. At last, when everything was ready, he carried the clay pot of fragrant stew, the plates of stir-fried meat, and all the bowls and dishes into the dining room, making several trips in and out. He looked quite pleased with himself by the end of it.
From inside her oil painting, Irene watched him dashing about, her expression an odd mixture of disbelief and weary resignation. Her painted face seemed to say, “I’m too tired to argue,” yet also, “You really shouldn’t be doing this!” Finally, she could hold back no longer. Her voice rang out, sharp and scolding:
“You can’t be serious! Are you truly going to eat that? It comes from the Otherworld! Don’t you realize you might be poisoning yourself?”
Yu Sheng glanced up at the painting. “What if I told you I’ve already eaten it twice before—over there, in that other place?”
Irene’s eyes widened in shock. “What?” she cried, her disbelief plain as day.
“Look at me,” Yu Sheng said calmly, shrugging in a matter-of-fact way. “I’m right here, still alive and kicking. So it can’t be that bad, can it? It would be a real shame to waste such good meat after all the trouble I went through. Besides,” he added with a sly grin, “you know what hunting is like. One day I’ll drag the whole creature back here to show it who’s boss. Top of the food chain, that’s me!”
Irene just stared, her doll-like face frozen in astonishment. Yu Sheng tilted his head curiously and continued, “But seriously, has no one in your world ever considered tasting these so-called ‘creatures’? With all the different types you mentioned, surely some look edible.”
“Who would even try such a thing?!” Irene shrieked, throwing her small painted hands in the air. “You have no idea what strange powers those monsters might have! Poison would be the least of your worries! And you—you ate it twice already?”
“Uh-huh,” Yu Sheng replied casually. “Both times I just sliced it up and ate it raw, like sashimi. Things were rather urgent back then, so there was no time to cook. It was one of those ‘eat or die’ moments.”
Irene blinked rapidly. “And… how did you feel afterward?” she asked, struggling to understand.
“I died,” said Yu Sheng, as if stating a boring fact.
“Then why are you—” Irene began, raising her voice before realizing something was off. Since she didn’t know about Yu Sheng’s odd ability to “die and return,” she assumed he was just teasing her. She glared at him hotly. “This is serious! Don’t joke around!”
Yu Sheng smirked at her outraged little face in the painting. He found that he rather enjoyed riling her up, especially since she couldn’t just leap out of that frame and smack him for it. He hadn’t explained his strange power to Irene yet, and he didn’t plan to, at least not until he understood it better himself.
Meanwhile, Irene couldn’t help but peek at the splendid spread of food on the table. Her eyes drifted over the bowls and plates, and she watched Yu Sheng chewing with undisguised curiosity. Once cooked, the meat looked perfectly ordinary—like something you’d see at a neighbor’s dinner party. Somehow, it no longer looked strange or frightening.
“How… how does it taste?” she asked at last, trying to sound as if she didn’t really care.
Yu Sheng, grinning as though he’d expected this question, took an empty bowl and plate and served Irene a portion of the meat and some of the soup. He placed them in front of her painting, as if inviting her to share a meal.
“I never said I wanted any…” Irene muttered, looking away.
“But it’s not as if you can actually eat it,” Yu Sheng pointed out with a casual shrug. “So there’s no harm in just having it in front of you, right?”
Irene considered this. “I suppose,” she said, nodding thoughtfully. She settled back, her expression calm and composed, seated before the delightful dish she could only admire, not taste.
Midway through Yu Sheng’s hearty meal, the conversation drifted back to their earlier topic about the “professionals” who might be involved in this strange situation.
“There’s another possibility,” Irene said, hugging her teddy bear close and leaning against the edge of her frame. She looked quite pensive. “It could be that some organization—or even a government agency—has noticed something odd happening around here. They might think it’s not the right time to take action, or maybe they haven’t discovered the exact spot where the Otherworld connects to our world. If that’s the case, they’re likely just watching and waiting.”
“Watching?” Yu Sheng repeated, suddenly uneasy.
“Yes, watching,” Irene confirmed. “For all you know, there could be undercover agents right outside, keeping an eye on your home. You returned from that place on your own before anyone could ‘rescue’ you. Since they didn’t get there in time, they might not have located the connection yet. So they’d start by setting up surveillance. Maybe they’ll send agents or detectives to blend into the neighborhood. Just keep your eyes open,” she said, “and maybe look out for clues. Who knows—there might even be flyers on telephone poles giving something away…”
Yu Sheng frowned, ignoring her comment about those mysterious flyers. He glanced out the window at the quiet street beyond. Just how on earth was he supposed to spot these strangers? He’d lived here for only two months, and for one of those months he barely went outside. Half the faces in the neighborhood were unfamiliar to him anyway!
“Do you think that fellow selling pancakes on the corner might be one of them?” he asked after a long, suspicious stare out the window.
“How should I know?” Irene huffed. “I can’t see a thing from here.”
“Oh, right,” Yu Sheng said, realizing his mistake. He carefully picked up Irene’s frame and set it on the windowsill. “Take a look for yourself. See that guy, over there?”
Irene peered out. “Definitely not him,” she decided.
“What makes you so sure?” Yu Sheng asked, puzzled.
“Oh, please,” Irene replied with a sniff. “He’s flipping pancakes so quickly and skillfully that if he were an agent, he’d still be figuring out how to spread the oil by the time he finished one. That kind of smooth cooking takes time to learn.”
Yu Sheng scratched his head. “Fair point. What about the person next to him, the one applying screen protectors to phones?”
“Not him, either. He’s too fast with his hands. No trained operative would want to draw attention by being that flashy.”
Yu Sheng sighed. “Oh… what about—”
“Stop,” Irene interrupted firmly. “This is pointless. Real professionals won’t be that easy to spot. They’ll blend in seamlessly. Worrying and guessing is useless. Instead, you ought to spend more time outside in the next few days. You’ve been to the Otherworld, and anyone trained in this sort of work might sense something different about you right away.”
“Sounds logical,” Yu Sheng admitted with a tired shrug. He started gathering up the empty dishes and bowls on the table.
Just as he turned away, Irene let out a sharp cry. “Hey, put me back first! I’m still perched on the windowsill, you know!”
Yu Sheng rolled his eyes with exaggerated drama. He picked up her frame again, mumbling, “What a bother,” and placed her carefully back on the table.
Irene, arms still wrapped around her teddy bear, tilted her head at him. “Then get me a proper body,” she said calmly, “so I can move myself. We’ve gotten closer now, haven’t we? I thought I’d ask again…”
Yu Sheng’s mouth twitched in annoyance. He remembered her earlier remark that they weren’t ‘familiar enough’ for that sort of discussion. Apparently, she’d changed her mind about what counted as ‘familiar’ rather quickly.
“We’ll see,” he grumbled. “I’ve got plenty on my plate right now. Let’s wait until I’m done dealing with everything else first.”
“Alright, fine,” Irene said, agreeing without much fuss, though her disappointment was clear. “But don’t forget!”
As Yu Sheng cleared the table, Irene turned her gaze toward the television on the opposite wall. “What are you planning next?” she asked. “Heading out to search for those telephone pole flyers?”
Yu Sheng narrowed his eyes at her. “Why are you so fixed on those flyers?” he shot back. “I’m going upstairs to sleep! I’ve been through a lot, and I’m exhausted.”
Irene made a small “oh” sound, as if that had just occurred to her. Then she nodded at the TV. “In that case, could you at least fix the television first? It’s lost its signal, and now I can’t watch anything…”
Yu Sheng stood there, feeling utterly defeated. He let out a sigh, this one louder and heavier than all the rest. He truly missed the days when he lived alone in peace and quiet, without a chatty doll in a painting asking for television repairs.
In such a short time, he’d learned that having Irene around was both entertaining and maddening. He set down the dishes, readying himself for yet another small request before he could finally enjoy a moment’s rest.