That day, everyone at the base was busy as usual.
Even without Xie Yushu around, no one slacked off—especially with Aunt Hong keeping watch.
But after working for a while, they glanced up at the sun and couldn’t help wondering:
Why hadn’t their boss shown up yet?
Their boss did take days off occasionally, but the base had been too busy lately—she’d been coming every day without fail.
And she usually arrived early. Though she lived in town, she often got to the base not much later than they did. Why was she so late today?
Orders were pressing, but they couldn’t dwell on it for long—they assumed she’d been held up on the road and went back to work.
Suddenly, the sound of hooves came from outside the yard. A carriage pulled up steadily at the base’s gate, drawing the attention of those nearest the entrance.
The carriage door opened, and out stepped their boss.
Xie Yushu hopped down nimbly, then turned and reached back to help someone else out.
Out came a young fulang. He wore a short, light-white cotton jacket, a silver-grey rabbit fur neck warmer wrapped around his collar. His whole demeanor was so gentle it was almost ethereal—except for a faint pout in his eyes, as if he was annoyed with their boss.
“I said an ox cart would be fine—why did you have to hire a carriage?” Su Chi lowered his voice, cheeks slightly flushed, growing more self-conscious as he noticed people sneaking glances from the gate.
“It’s cold out there. With your small frame, you’d freeze.” Xie Yushu was unruffled, gently helping him down from the carriage.
“But—but you ride an ox cart every day.” Su Chi’s soft protest carried a hint of complaint, but his heart ached for her—she traveled back and forth daily on that freezing ox cart. If he would get cold, wouldn’t she too?
“I’m a woman—how could I be the same as you?” Xie Yushu said matter-of-factly.
She’d had to search the whole town to find an available carriage, and here he was, ungrateful, wanting to take that bone-chilling ox cart—it would drive her mad.
Xie Yushu led Su Chi by the hand, walking openly past everyone, straight to her office.
Once they were inside, the workers who’d caught a glimpse of Su Chi pretended to be busy but couldn’t resist huddling together and whispering:
“So that’s our boss’s fulang—he’s really handsome.”
“Right? He looks perfect with our boss.”
In their eyes, Xie Yushu was the most beautiful person they’d ever seen, bar none.
Though her fulang wasn’t quite as stunning as their boss, that gentle, refined quality about him was uniquely his own. The two of them standing together—one sharp and capable, the other soft and serene—couldn’t have been a better match.
They were chattering away when Ye Youchun’s casual glance swept over them, and they immediately fell silent, getting back to work.
Ye Youchun went to unload the ingredients from the carriage, paid the driver, and told him to return in the evening to pick them up.
After placing the food in the kitchen, she went back to her own tasks.
In the office, Xie Yushu poured Su Chi a cup of warm honey water to sweeten his lips.
The honey was from Sun Wuyou—she’d grabbed a jar from her place last time to drink on occasion.
The hot water had been boiled early that morning by Xin Miao. He’d adjusted quickly to life here, worked hard, and now handled packaging and sorting with He Chao. He also helped Xiu He with the cooking, taking each day in steady stride.
When Xin Miao heard Su Chi had arrived, he stole a moment to come talk to him—mostly words of gratitude.
Su Chi was delighted to see him. In just a few days, he’d already changed so much—his face had color, and a smile lingered on his lips.
After a brief chat, Su Chi went with him to cook lunch for the group—that was the purpose of his visit today: to make a meal for Xie Yushu’s crew.
Su Chi knew that these days Xie Yushu had taken on a large order from the Tang family, plus unfinished orders piling up one after another. The base workers must have been run off their feet, so he’d thought of cooking a meal for them as a treat.
So last night, he’d pestered Xie Yushu until she finally agreed to bring him along.
Xie Yushu had actually wanted to take him to see the base for a while now. Her wife’s skills were impressive—turning an abandoned fish farm into such a thriving operation—and she was more than happy to show off in front of the one she loved.
But work kept getting busier, orders tighter and tighter. She’d worried that if she brought Su Chi, she’d be too busy to pay him any attention and leave him feeling neglected. So she’d been waiting for the right moment.
Last night, however, she’d caved to his persistent coaxing.
While Xie Yushu was looking for a carriage in town, Su Chi hadn’t been idle. He’d stopped by the butcher’s to buy a load of marrow bones and meat, then rummaged through the house to gather cured meat, fish, vegetables, and noodles, filling a large basket to the brim—ready to make a hearty lunch for everyone.
Though only two people were working in the kitchen, the energy was fierce, as if they had an army behind them.
Xin Miao worked efficiently as Su Chi’s helper—washing and chopping vegetables with skill. Seeing how well he did, Su Chi focused on making the batter for crispy pork.
He cut the lean meat into finger-wide strips, seasoned them with salt, Sichuan peppercorn powder, and minced ginger to marinate briefly, then dipped them into the batter. Once the oil in the wok was hot enough, he grabbed handfuls of the coated meat and dropped them in—the oil instantly sizzled and popped, the strips gradually turning golden. In no time, the intense aroma of fried meat filled the air.
With a large basin of crispy pork done, Su Chi moved on to forming meatballs. He mixed the minced meat—half fat, half lean—with finely chopped shiitake mushrooms and fried up a batch of juicy, burst-in-your-mouth meatballs, piled high and irresistible.
In the stew pot, the marrow bones were already simmering, the broth turning milky white with a steady bubbling sound. After simmering a while longer, he’d add chunks of crisp, fresh radish, finishing with a sprinkle of salt and chopped celery.
The kitchen wasn’t far from the work area, and the tantalizing aroma had already drifted over—making it impossible for anyone to focus on their tasks.
It smelled like meat—crispy fried meat—and a rich, hearty broth. The fragrance was intoxicating.
They swallowed secretly, never having smelled anything so delicious. It was said their boss’s fulang was cooking their lunch, and they couldn’t wait to eat.
With both types of fried meat resting in bamboo baskets to drain and cool, Su Chi started on the fish—he was making spicy fermented fish.
He’d brought his own fermented chili paste, made earlier with his father—a big jar of bright red goodness that was appetizing just to smell. On a chilly day, a spicy dish like this would warm you right up.
After the fish was done, Su Chi took the wafer-thin, translucent slices of cured meat that Xin Miao had cut and slid them into the wok with a satisfying sizzle. He stir-fried the meat until the fat rendered, releasing a rich, smoky aroma.
Then he added sliced long beans and stir-fried until they turned glossy and bright green, seasoned with salt and soy sauce. Finally, he spread cooked rice over the top and let it steam for a quarter of an hour.
Meanwhile, in another wok, he stir-fried cabbage until soft, added water, and simmered briefly before adding noodles and the crispy pork—cooking it all into a thick, wonderfully fragrant stew.
The workers gathered around a large round table. On it sat a big platter of spicy fermented fish, a large basin of crispy-skinned meatballs, a pot of cabbage and crispy pork stew with noodles, and a generous plate of stir-fried red choy sum in lard.
In the center was a big bowl of radish and marrow bone soup, fragrant with the sweetness of radish, and next to it, a large basin of steamed cured meat rice.
When they came off shift, Su Chi gently called them to wash up and eat, then turned to roll up Xie Yushu’s sleeves.
Because there were so many people, he’d made large portions—every dish was served in a basin; ordinary plates wouldn’t have been enough.
It was the first time they’d dined with their boss and her fulang, so everyone was a bit reserved at first. But after that first bite of cured meat rice, any hesitation vanished, replaced by an explosion of oily fragrance and sheer disbelief.
This rice!
This flavor!
It was absolutely incredible!
The rice at the bottom of the cured meat rice was crisp and golden, with a delightful layer of scorched crust. Each grain was distinct, glistening and coated in the savory oil of the cured meat—simply divine.
The golden-fried crispy meatballs, just slightly smaller than a fist, burst with juice at first bite—crispy outside, tender inside, with a perfect balance of fat and lean, the shiitake bits adding an extra dimension of flavor.
The milky-white marrow bone soup had simmered for half an hour—not just bones but bits of meat clinging to them, falling off at the slightest touch. The radish had turned translucent, melting on the tongue.
But the absolute star of the meal was the cabbage and crispy pork stew with noodles.
The noodles had turned translucent and glistening, absorbing all the broth—each bite made you crave another. At first, everyone thought it was a pity to soak the crispy pork in soup instead of eating it fresh and crunchy. But one taste revealed the genius behind it: the fried coating had soaked up the broth, adding layers of flavor while the pork inside stayed tender and juicy. With the cabbage-infused broth, everyone kept reaching their serving spoons back into that basin.
The spicy fermented fish was pungent and flavorful; the stir-fried choy sum was sweet and juicy with lard oil; and the other dishes were no less impressive—chopsticks flew across the table without pause.
Ignoring the pack of starving wolves, Xie Yushu quickly piled Su Chi’s bowl high with food, making sure he ate properly and didn’t just stare off into space.
Su Chi wasn’t spacing out—he was immensely satisfied and happy.
Cooking for so many people had been tiring, but seeing them eat with such relish made it all worthwhile.
Ye Youchun, who had tasted Su Chi’s cooking before, knew it was delicious but ate calmly, unlike the others who devoured their food like they’d never been fed.
He Chao was quick with his chopsticks and grabbed plenty, piling food onto his father’s plate and urging him to hurry up before it was all gone.
Xiu He served Xiuwei while casting admiring glances at Su Chi.
His eyes held undisguised reverence.
This was his first time meeting Su Chi, sharing a meal with him, and tasting his cooking—and it was this good. His eyes sparkled until Xiuwei tugged at his sleeve, snapping him back to ask what his brother wanted.
Every dish was a perfect match for rice, flavors none of them had ever experienced. Everyone ate until they were stuffed.
Leave a Reply