Chu Mingcheng couldn’t help but wonder why Jiang Luoluo was so determined to learn how to make Muscovy Duck and Earth Dragon Soup. Walking into her kitchen, he found her busy at the stove, back to the door.

He leaned in for a closer look, only to see a whole, snake-like sea eel sizzling in her wok.

Most girls would be reluctant to handle something that looked so… serpentine, but Jiang Luoluo was remarkably calm.

“Does the sea eel have to be fried first?”

“Whoa—!”

Jiang Luoluo jumped, startled by his sudden voice.

She pressed a hand to her chest, frowning. “How do you sneak up without making a sound? You scared me!”

Chu Mingcheng set his bag down and spread his arms, looking innocent. “You were too focused! Zhang Ruomei and I talked at the door for ages.”

Since Zhang Ruomei was only a year younger, Chu Mingcheng had called her by name.

“Alright, alright!” Jiang Luoluo didn’t press the issue, her attention returning to the soup. With a cheeky glint in her eye, she said, “Ah Cheng, we’re good friends, aren’t we?”

Chu Mingcheng saw straight through her act. Seeing the sea eel still frying in the wok, he replied, “Yes, we’re good friends. But as of this meal, I’m breaking up with you—temporarily! We can be friends again after I eat.”

He had no intention of being a taste tester for her first big cooking experiment. With that, he picked up the groceries and made a hasty escape.

Jiang Luoluo wanted to call after him, but with the eel almost perfectly golden, she had to fish it out right away.

Watching Chu Mingcheng scamper off, she put her hands on her hips in mock annoyance. “Fine, I’ll let you off this time. Just wait until next time!”

Returning her focus to cooking, Jiang Luoluo added the perfectly fried eel to the simmering clay pot of duck.

She then added the medicinal herbs she’d prepared: red dates, rehmannia root, codonopsis root, goji berries, white peony root, and several others—just as the video tutorial instructed. 【TN: These traditional Chinese herbs are common in tonic soups and are believed to have restorative properties.】

Covering the pot, she let it simmer on low heat and set a special alarm for forty-five minutes.

When time was up, Jiang Luoluo opened the pot, poured in a measure of medicinal wine—though she wasn’t entirely sure of its function—and removed the pot from the stove.

She had followed every step in the video, even going out of her way to buy the medicinal wine, despite the shop owner’s odd look.

“Wow, it smells so good!” Jiang Luoluo inhaled the fragrant steam, feeling proud of her work.

Zhang Ruomei had thought about fleeing, but curiosity won out.

After all, it was Luoluo’s first time making such a big dish—how could she not see the results for herself? The suspense alone would drive her crazy.

She slipped into the kitchen and, breathing in the fragrance, gave a thoughtful score—eight out of ten for aroma, taking off two just in case. For appearance, she gave it a six: the sea eel looked off-putting, but the soup itself appeared appetizing.

“Luoluo, you made this yourself. Aren’t you going to taste it first?”

“Mei-jie, in honor of all the years you’ve taken care of me, the first taste is yours!”

“No, no, the credit is yours; you worked hard all morning!”

“Oh, come on, between filming and editing, you do so much—”

“Hey now, that hardly counts as a huge contribution! I’m not suffering that much!”

“If you’re not suffering, should I cut your pay?”

“Oh, so that’s your game!” Zhang Ruomei put on an exaggerated glare and reached out, threatening to tickle her.

Jiang Luoluo dodged with a laugh. “Alright, alright! I’ll taste it myself first and make sure it’s good.”

She scooped up a spoonful and took a sip. At first, she frowned, but her expression quickly turned into delight. “Wow, I didn’t know I had a talent for cooking. This soup is delicious!”

“Really?” Skeptical but curious, Zhang Ruomei took a spoonful for herself.

Her first taste surprised her. It wasn’t amazing, but it was certainly better than just ‘edible.’

She sampled some of the duck and eel meat, then frowned in contemplation.

“How is it?” Jiang Luoluo asked, a little anxious.

“The soup is actually pretty good, but the ingredients are just a bit lacking. If you used a real muscovy duck and a wild earth dragon, this would be restaurant-quality,” Zhang Ruomei concluded, still with a hint of regret.

“It’s my first try! If I’d bought the real ingredients and botched it, that’d be such a waste.” Jiang Luoluo rolled her eyes, satisfied, regardless.

Zhang Ruomei realized her tone had been a bit harsh and smiled. “You’re right. This is decent for a first attempt.”

“By the way, Ah Cheng invited us for lunch. Why don’t we bring the soup and eat together?”

“We have to! He ran away earlier; we can’t let him off that easily!” Boosted by her kitchen success, Jiang Luoluo felt emboldened.

If the soup had flopped, she’d never have risked making anyone else taste it.

Carrying the soup pot, the two headed to Chu Mingcheng’s apartment. The door was left open, so they strolled right in.

“You made it just in time—I just finished cooking!” Chu Mingcheng called out, setting out his dishes: garlic stir-fried youmaicai, braised pork ribs, braised squid, and sweet-and-sour cucumber salad.

“You’re so fast! Luoluo spent all morning on her soup, but you finished four dishes in under an hour?” Zhang Ruomei marveled. All three main dishes looked and smelled wonderful—even the cold salad was appealing.

Chu Mingcheng eyed the pot as Jiang Luoluo set it down. He silently prayed she wouldn’t push him too hard.

“Ah Cheng, try my soup! Mei-jie and I both think it turned out great.”

“…”

Trapped by her hopeful gaze, Chu Mingcheng couldn’t refuse.

If it was only so-so, he’d politely take a bite and say as much. Jiang Luoluo wasn’t the type to force others if it was unpleasant.

He took a cautious sip. His brows shot up in surprise.

“Not bad—much better than I expected! Is this your first time making it?”

Getting a rare compliment, Jiang Luoluo grinned from ear to ear. “Yep, followed a video step by step!”

Chu Mingcheng nodded in understanding. Following a video might not earn you a Michelin star, but a bit of effort always shone through.

Unlike certain ex-girlfriends, who insisted on cooking not from interest but as some kind of test, only to inflict their ‘creations’ on him and demand excessive attention—never truly considering his feelings or comfort.

What was even crazier: Some people even laid claim to the passenger seat in the car, acting as though if anyone else sat there, it meant you didn’t love them. Total madness!

He shook off those memories. Some people were just always testing how much you’d tolerate, step by step, just for their selfishness.

But beside him now, Jiang Luoluo seemed delighted with a simple compliment. She was so easy to please—it was refreshing.

After lunch, they cleared the table, saving leftovers for dinner.

Jiang Luoluo, finally having some free time, went to start work on her choreography, promising to practice in the mirror after she digested her food.

Chu Mingcheng wasn’t idle either. He sprawled on the sofa with his phone, using an app to practice exam questions. The earlier he got his boating license, the sooner he could head out to sea.

This morning’s fishing had taught him: shore angling just wasn’t that profitable.

Still, there’d be fish when the tide came in again at two. Even if it didn’t make him rich, it’d keep him in practice.

Around one o’clock, he stashed his phone and set off toward his fishing spot from that morning.

When he arrived, the old man from before had already taken up Chu Mingcheng’s spot.

Chu Mingcheng was amused that Agong was still at it, but didn’t mind. He’d already left earlier; it was fair game.

Curious, he walked up. “Agong, how’s the bite today?”

【In Fujian, terms of address for elders—A-bei for men, Agong for old men, A-mu for women, and A-po for old women—mirror the local dialect of Taiwan, which is also Minnan.】

“Yo, yāndào (handsome fella)! Here to fish, too? The catch wasn’t bad this morning. Look,” the old man replied in heavily accented Mandarin, opening his tackle box to show off seven or eight fish: black seabream, rockfish, and even a rabbitfish Chu Mingcheng hadn’t caught before.

Chu Mingcheng, used to his own grandfathers’ dialect back in Wenshi, understood him perfectly.

“Great haul, Agong.” It might not be much commercially, but for a retiree fishing for fun, it was a fine catch.

“Thanks to your chumming, I got lucky! Here, take your spot back.” The old man was about to stand.

But Chu Mingcheng pressed him back down. “No need, Agong! You fish here—I’ll go try the spot you fished at this morning.”

Without giving him a chance to protest, Chu Mingcheng picked up his gear and left.

He found the other spot to be much steeper—no wonder the old man had moved. But for him, the slope wasn't an issue.

The tide was still low, but waves had begun to build, crashing against the reef.

He tossed in a couple of scoops of shrimp brick chum and began assembling his rig, as before.

Once his iso rod setup was complete, he didn’t fish immediately—the water was too shallow and hadn’t yet attracted fish.

He pulled out his lure rod, tied on a lure, and started casting. Reef lure fishing wasn’t ideal, but maybe he’d get lucky.

He’d only been lure fishing for a month—not an expert, but casting was easy enough.

The southwest wind today was warm; casting was no problem. If it had been east or northeast, directly offshore, it would’ve made things much tougher.

A flick of his wrist sent the popper lure over ten meters out with a soft splash.

There was no need to cast far on the reef—too much distance, and he wouldn’t be able to pull in a hooked fish.

He reeled in, twitching the rod tip rhythmically, making the popper dart and splash across the surface like a frantic little fish: the classic move to attract sea bass.

He added occasional pauses, making “pop-pop” sounds to mimic the commotion of a big fish gulping down a small one—another way to draw predators in.

Unfortunately, his sea bass skill was still only Level 1, so the lure’s attraction was mediocre at best.

Small comfort: after the Xisha trip, his Aquatic Species Codex was now at 17 experience points—only 43 more to the next level.

Last time, he’d gained an “Effortless Swim” buff when leveling up. He wondered what he’d earn with the next upgrade.

For now, no need to rush. His focus was on leveling up common fish species, building a stable daily income before his boat arrived.

After three casts with no hits, he made a fourth—and a sea bass suddenly leaped from the water, chasing the popper.

Chu Mingcheng froze, hoping for a strike, but the fish darted away at the last second.

“….”

He shook his head. Not much to be done. He couldn’t exactly jump in after it with a speargun.

For just one little sea bass, it simply wasn’t worth the trouble.