Hot Pot and Chopsticks Were Both Divine Artifacts~

With that, he hung up the call with a snap.

Hot Pot and Chopsticks Were Both Divine Artifacts~

"Xiaojing, your genetic compatibility test has now been rechecked. What are your plans next?" General Chen suddenly asked after dinner.

Everyone was full and satisfied, and the atmosphere was quite harmonious.

Over the past two days, Xiao Yi had turned the dining table into something increasingly outrageous.

To the point that General Chen and Yang Chun—hmm, along with Grey Eagle, who had not left yet—suspected this was all part of his conspiracy: planting psychological trauma in all of them so he could hog the good food for himself in the Dark. Where was his humanity?

On the first day, he had not had enough time, so he mainly deep-fried bug meat, at most pairing it with a little dipping sauce... Later, when he had more time, he began stir-frying, grilling, making dry pots and teppanyaki. Sometimes he even made candied or honey-braised dishes, and bug meat and bug egg sushi with rice! In short, for several meals in a row, the dishes on his side were colorful and varied, while the standard fare on the other side was dull and uninspiring. General Chen and the others could only swallow their drool while trying to keep their psychological trauma in mind. During that brief period, they suffered terribly.

Originally, no matter how unbearable it was, a soldier's willpower was no joke. For several meals in a row, General Chen and the others had kept their eyes straight ahead, eaten their fill, and left the table, leaving Xiao Yi to fuss around by himself. General Chen had made up his mind in the Dark: With no one to lead him, that brat wouldn't be able to find the ingredient processing plant. He only had so much bug meat. Once he finished it, it would be gone. He couldn't stay smug for long. What was a few more meals of enduring him?!

But unexpectedly, Jing Yi suddenly unleashed his ultimate move without any warning!

He brought out hot pot!

Aside from Madam Chen, the other men, who never set foot in the kitchen, probably had not noticed that the general's residence's kitchen had become far more stocked with seasonings and supplementary foods than before Jing Yi arrived.

In his spare time, he had browsed online stores, boldly experimented, and slowly gathered them bit by bit. Most of the seasonings had not originally been seasonings at all, but things like potted plants and minerals. With the perseverance of a true foodie, Jing Yi had uncovered these seasonings that had been left to gather dust on Mi Star. After having them delivered, he carefully sorted them out, drying or grinding them into powder according to type. Like a hamster preparing for winter, he had stockpiled jar after jar of them, making his cooking increasingly effortless and extraordinary afterward.

After returning from putting on a show that morning, uploading the photos and videos, and hanging up on Jing Bo, Jing Yi's mood had been affected somewhat. He simply went to the kitchen to pass the time.

To his surprise, he found a black-feathered chicken in the refrigerated cabinet!

Black-feathered chickens were a native poultry species, slightly larger than Earth's roosters. Because they had high meat yields, high egg production, and were easy to raise, the Mi Star people bred them on a massive scale. Of course, for the same reasons, black-feathered chickens shared the fate of Earth's broiler chickens: lots of meat but little flavor, low nutritional value, and high levels of all sorts of harmful substances. They were commoner ingredients through and through, unfit for an elegant table.

As for why this black-feathered chicken had the "honor" of appearing in the general's residence's refrigerated cabinet?

Did that even need to be said? Of course it was because it was wild!

These things were incredibly rare. Jing Yi gazed at it emotionally for a while, then decisively cleaned it up and tossed the whole chicken into a large pot to make stock!

By noon, the kitchen smelled so good that no one could stay on their feet. General Chen, Madam Chen, and Yang Chun, who had returned for lunch, could not resist checking several times. When they discovered that today's ingredient was a perfectly normal black-feathered chicken, their feelings were truly beyond words...

At last, they would not have to struggle with themselves anymore! They had no trauma associated with this thing!

...However, they did not get the stewed chicken they had imagined at lunch. The chef said it would not be ready until evening.

By evening, Xiao Yi used the stock that had simmered for nearly a full day to prepare a yin-yang hot pot base, one clear and one spicy red. He had specially commissioned this copper pot. It sat on a small stove connected to the dining table, bubbling away...

It smelled so good that there was simply nothing to say.

Beside it sat many plates of ingredients for the hot pot. Thinly sliced bug meat was the main attraction, along with small amounts of wild A-grade and B-grade beast meat, synthetic meatballs, compressed sticks, various noodles made from nutrient powder, and a small amount of vegetables. Since it was hot pot, everything was naturally raw. Seeing such a setup for the first time, everyone was completely confused. Were they supposed to cook at the table? What was this supposed to mean?

They watched Jing Yi put several ingredients into the pot one after another. He held two little wooden sticks in his right hand and used them with remarkable dexterity. Actually, everyone had seen him use these things twice before. At the time, they thought he was truly eccentric. Spoons, forks, and table knives were so convenient—did he have to eat every meal like he was performing acrobatics?

Though they could not understand it, they still respected Xiao Yi's preference, indulgently thinking, Go ahead and play if you like. It was no big deal.

It was not until they experienced what "hot pot" meant that they belatedly realized that though those wooden sticks were simple, they were incredibly useful at crucial moments! Jing Yi used the wooden sticks while they used spoons. His seasoning bowl was already piled high like a mountain, while they were still fishing and fishing, sweating anxiously to no damn effect... Why did they still have to suffer this agony of "seeing it but not being able to eat it" even when they did not have to eat bug meat? Where was the humanity?!