Chapter 31: Didn’t Reply the Message

The next day, Ruan Ming got up early and, as usual, went up the mountain to carry water.

Thinking that person would probably come freeloading dinner again tonight, she used the water source as a center to search the surrounding area.

Perhaps because she was so close to the pollution-free spring water, she always managed to find edible things near her territory, time and time again. It was a kind of luck.

After busying herself for almost an entire morning, she finally discovered several huge mutated bamboo rats, along with some other crisp, tender, edible wild greens.

She was normally fearless, but she had always maintained a respectful distance from snakes and rodents.

According to Old Era records, bamboo rats were edible—and furthermore, quite delicious.

Thinking that Ye Fengwan might like them, and that her neighbor Huang Yu had saved her again a few days ago, and had even lent her the rotary tiller to plow the land without charging rent, Ruan Ming felt she hadn’t been able to properly express her gratitude. She decided to go back and ask Huang Yu if she liked them before sending any over.

So she overcame her psychological barrier and caught three.

They were heavy, clearly packing a good amount of meat.

Once home, she clipped off their teeth with pliers and put them into the cage previously used for the rabbits, securing them inside.

Little Calico circled the cage, constantly sniffing at the iron bars, so menacing that the two bamboo rats shrank into the corner of the cage, not daring to move.

Ruan Ming couldn’t help but laugh. “Bigger and fatter than Little Calico, yet so much more timid.”

Cats and rodents truly were natural enemies.

She was busy for yet another morning and finally finished making the chicken coop.

Worried that too many chicks in the future would mess up the courtyard, she ultimately decided to move the coop frame to the back door. She figured when she had some free time later, she would chop some bamboo to fence off a vegetable garden. That way, when the seedlings came up, she wouldn’t have to worry about the chicks ruining them.

The top of the coop frame also needed to be covered with a tarp, and the bottom kept off the ground so it wouldn’t get soaked when it rained.

She glanced at the sky, estimating that it probably wouldn’t rain so soon in the next few days. Ruan Ming pulled out her wristband to call Ah Yuan, asking him to bring some tarp over whenever he was passing by.

For lunch, she ate a little something hastily, then went straight to the cactus field to catch bugs and shoo birds.

Around five in the afternoon, she sent a message to Ye Fengwan, asking if she ate bamboo rat.

By a little past six, there was still no reply.

She packed up her things and went home. She didn’t cook, just filled her stomach with some nutrient solution.

It wasn’t until past eight in the evening, while drifting in and out of sleep, that her wristband suddenly rang.

Watching the name flashing on it—that person’s name—she waited until the ringtone almost died before picking up.

“Hello,” she said.

Her voice carried the hoarseness of just waking up.

Ye Fengwan paused on the other end. Only then did her voice come through, carrying a faint hint of ingratiation.

“You were sleeping?”

Ruan Ming rubbed her eyes and replied: “Just dozed off on the recliner for a bit.”

Ye Fengwan was still immersed in her nearly defenseless voice. It took her a long while to remember the purpose of her call. She explained: “I was testing things this afternoon… Little Wu was invited by a Territory Lord to their place for a meal. No one reminded me, and I lost track of time all at once. The wristband’s sound was off, so I couldn’t reply to your message in time.”

Ruan Ming gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment. “It’s fine. It wasn’t anything important.”

Ye Fengwan: “To me, it’s a very big deal. I missed out on bamboo rat meat for dinner.”

Ruan Ming leaned back on the recliner, silent and somewhat sullen.

Ye Fengwan asked softly: “Can I come find you now?”

Ruan Ming: “It’s so late already, what are you coming over for?”

Ye Fengwan toyed with her long hair draped over her chest and mumbled vaguely: “I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“Neither do I have any dinner here,” Ruan Ming said. “You’d be coming for nothing.”

Ye Fengwan: “I could also go without dinner.”

Ruan Ming looked up from the courtyard towards the sky. Polluted dust and smoke shrouded the entire expanse—pitch-black, with no moon visible, nor any stars. She said: “It’s too late. You’ve been busy all day. Have some nutrient solution and get some early rest. I’m about to go to sleep as well.”

Ye Fengwan, hearing her say that, was silent for a moment before replying: “Alright, I won’t come over.”

Ruan Ming didn’t speak.

“Ruan Ming.”

Ye Fengwan called her name.

Ruan Ming answered with a soft sound of acknowledgment.

“Next time, I’ll reply to your messages promptly.”

“You get some good sleep first. Tomorrow, I’ll come find you.”

…

The second day, when Ye Fengwan came over, it wasn’t too early or too late—exactly six o’clock.

Ruan Ming had just finished putting her farming tools away and returned home.

She watched the woman standing by the courtyard gate, wearing a yellow t-shirt and jeans, her long, wavy hair scattered over her chest, exuding a captivating allure.

The woman walked over and took the box from her hands, asking: “Bugs, right?”

Ruan Ming nodded.

“I’ll go feed them to the chickens.”

As she spoke, she bent down and scooped up Little Calico, who was meowing and running towards her. She passed through the living room and headed towards the backyard.

Not until the figure had disappeared through the other end did Ruan Ming retract her gaze from that graceful, shapely back. She removed her mask and went into the kitchen.

She boiled water and started cooking the rice.

After feeding Little Hen, Ye Fengwan turned around and also came into the kitchen.

The water soon boiled. She volunteered enthusiastically, wanting to help with scraping the hair.

Ruan Ming glanced at her. “Are you thinking of having dinner at midnight?”

Ye Fengwan saw the disdain in her eyes and awkwardly withdrew her hand. “Then I’ll just assist you as best I can.”

This time, Ruan Ming didn’t refuse. “Go build a fire in the courtyard.”

Her movements were clean and efficient. In just a few swift strokes, she had scraped off the hair and removed the internal organs. Under Ye Fengwan’s astonished gaze, she set the cleaned, gleaming-white creature on a rack over the fire in the courtyard to sear the skin. Once the outer skin was scorched to a golden brown, she rinsed it with water and chopped it into pieces.

She heated the wok with oil and added the meat to stir-fry.

Without any mixed spices available, she threw in a few stalks of lemongrass picked from the mountain to remove the gamey odor.

She poured in salt and soy sauce, then drizzled in two capfuls of the strong liquor left behind by Ruan Feng.

She added spring water, covered the pot, and let it simmer over low heat.

On the other side, the fragrance of cooking rice wafted out. The kitchen was enveloped in a rich aroma of hearth and home.

Ye Fengwan swallowed her saliva and asked: “How long does it need to braise?”

“About an hour.” Bamboo rat skin was tough; it needed to stew until tender to be delicious.

As she spoke, Ruan Ming took the wild greens she’d picked the day before—already somewhat wilted—and soaked them in water, rinsing them several times. “We’ll make soup with the wild greens.”

“Mm, mm.” Ye Fengwan nodded repeatedly.

An hour felt agonizingly long, but as the two exchanged questions and answers, and cooked the greens, it wasn’t long before it was time to reduce the sauce and take the pot off the fire.

The braised meat wasn’t plated separately; the pot was brought directly to the table. Steam rose in billows, the aroma spreading everywhere.

The wild green soup and rice had long been set on the table.

The two took their seats and immediately began eating.

Little Calico also started her meal at the same time.

The mutated bamboo rat was exceptionally plump and fleshy. Beneath the skin was a thin layer of fat; the rest was all lean meat.

The skin had been braised until it was meltingly tender, its surface gleaming with a faint sheen of oil. The meat juices coated it, making it appear even fuller and richly layered.

Ye Fengwan took a gentle bite. The meat juices burst forth in her mouth—a little hot, but even more so, savory and delicious.

She chewed a couple of times quickly. Her mouth filled with an intensely rich aroma and an irresistible texture. Saliva quickly seeped forth, mingling with the meat shreds as she swallowed them into her stomach, leaving her utterly unable to stop.

“I can’t talk to you,” Ye Fengwan said, stuffing another piece of meat into her mouth. “Too delicious. You eat quickly too.”

Ruan Ming picked up a piece, her eyes involuntarily darting towards Ye Fengwan’s direction.

Only when the two of them had almost finished eating did she ask: “Besides that bottle of honey, have you ever tasted any other organic food?”

Ye Fengwan shook her head. “My sister’s provisions are all squeezed out from elsewhere. The organic food supplied by the Qu Family grows less and less. Even if we occasionally manage to buy some outside, I wouldn’t dare taste even a single bite. If I taste one bite, she has to eat one bite less.”

Ruan Ming had long known that Ye Jianggui’s life wasn’t easy. Now, hearing Ye Fengwan say this, she felt not just admiration, but more so, a pang of heartache.

A decade ago, before the new cactus varieties were developed, food was scarce. All bases were suffering from famine. Let alone organic food, they didn’t even have enough edible grain to eat. That Ye Jianggui could have endured through it all was truly no small feat.

To have developed the crop varieties that fed the people, yet almost starve to death herself—pitiful and ironic.

“Once that honey is finished, remember to tell me. I’ll think of another way to send her some more.”

Ye Fengwan couldn’t refuse this. She nodded, then couldn’t help but add: “You’re so good.”

Ruan Ming averted her gaze. “With chronic malnutrition, how can she possibly hold up?”

Ye Fengwan sighed. “She’s so terribly thin. Even someone like me, with my pathetic combat ability, could carry her on my back from the Research Institute all the way home.”

As she said this and saw Ruan Ming’s furrowed brows, she couldn’t help but turn around and comfort her instead: “It’s alright. Things will get better.”

Ruan Ming lifted her eyes to look at her, her lashes fluttering slightly. She spoke slowly: “I suspect there might be a place… that has something Institute Director Ye could eat…”

Ye Fengwan was suddenly stunned, almost doubting her own ears. Not until Ruan Ming repeated herself did she shove her bowl and chopsticks forward and look at her urgently, her eyes brimming with entreaty.

Seeing her like this, Ruan Ming realized just how difficult these years had been for the two sisters. No wonder the Qu Family had always been able to hold them so firmly in check.

She hesitated slightly. “This is just my speculation—”

Ye Fengwan stared at her, looking utterly wronged. “You’re still keeping me in suspense…”

Ruan Ming couldn’t bear to see her this way. “It’s crocodiles. The crocodiles in the Lethe Marsh, behind the mountain on my territory.”

Upon hearing this, Ye Fengwan’s expression immediately dimmed. “Impossible. Someone ventured in before to capture those crocodiles for testing. They’ve been confirmed as inedible.”

Ruan Ming persisted. “Hundreds of crocodiles—how could they guarantee every single one is inedible? There will always be exceptions.”

Ye Fengwan froze for a moment, then countered: “Then what makes you think there could be edible, organic crocodiles among them?”

Ruan Ming swiftly opened her wristband and enlarged a photo she had taken at the cliff’s edge. “Take a look. Do these crocodiles have anything special about them?”

Ye Fengwan hurriedly stood up and half-crouched next to her, leaning in to look at the photo on the wristband.

“The colors seem slightly different…”

Ruan Ming pointed at the traces of flowing water gushing from the cliff’s mid-section. “This water—it’s the reason they fight over territory. For all these years, they’ve been drinking pollution-free spring water. I refuse to believe these crocodiles haven’t undergone some kind of change.”

As she spoke, she looked at Ye Fengwan, who was leaning against her knee. “…I’ve told you all the secrets of my territory.”

Ye Fengwan, upon hearing this, lifted her gaze from the picture and looked up at her.

In that instant their eyes met, neither looked away.

“Don’t worry. I swear on my life, I won’t reveal the secrets of your territory.”

Ruan Ming lowered her eyes. “If I weren’t at ease, why would I have told you?”

Ye Fengwan gently pressed her lips together. She stood up and returned to her own seat, her tone soft. “Any ideas on how to capture the crocodiles?”

Ruan Ming shook her head. “The ones near the shore, furthest from the spring water, have black scales. These are likely the ones you mentioned earlier—confirmed to be inedible. The ones below the cliff are our target, but they’re far from the shore and surrounded by numerous other crocodiles. Capturing them would be extremely difficult.”

Ye Fengwan nodded. “It really won’t be easy. Once a person gets close to the swamp, it’s practically a death sentence. Boats can’t make it through either, and we don’t have any aircraft to fly over.”

“But we’ll find a way. I can’t just watch those good things sitting there, going to waste.”

Ruan Ming murmured an agreement and raised her head to look at her. “It’s almost nine. You need to head back.”

Ye Fengwan peered out the window at the pitch-black night sky, then turned back to look at Ruan Ming. In the end, she still stood up.

“Fine. I’ll go back now.”