Lin Changli had previously mentioned that the base had its own processing plant, responsible for everything from daily necessities and mechanical repairs to a portion of the nutrient solutions. However, from Rong Cheng, Sang Ye learned that General Asu Ment held a 30% stake in this factory—limited only by the base's regulations preventing her from owning a majority share. The other 70% was controlled by the Royal Family.
And the factory was profitable. Because Black Tower was a gathering place for "lawless" Sentinels, its military strength was comparable to a small legion. The most dangerous place was also the safest, and Black Tower had become one of the Empire's significant weapon manufacturing hubs. With its own mineral resources and zero transportation costs, the profit was staggering. No one dared ask how the Royal Family's share was distributed, but Asu Ment’s share went straight into her pocket.
Asu Ment had a peculiar temper. It wasn't so much that she was greedy as that amassing wealth was a hobby—a habitual behavior. Since she already disliked Sang Ye, was Sang Ye truly trying to flirt with danger by doing business with "outsiders" like the Jiangs on Asu’s turf?
Initially, Sang Ye hadn't considered this. Asu Ment was usually quiet and ignored her, and Sang Ye assumed she was too insignificant to be targeted. Tableware and cookware weren't rare—though they were becoming less common, noble families usually owned a few sets. Countless factories could produce them; it was just that most didn't bother because there was no market or profit.
Only products bundled with Sang Ye’s ingredients were profitable.
"General Asu might not want to interact with you, but you can file an application, or find a mediator," Rong Cheng suggested, looking at Wu Jianing, who was building mud men by the water. "You provide the ingredients and handle Jiang Siwei; the General provides raw materials and energy from the factory; set the profit high—maybe an 80/20 split."
Sang Ye shook her head, interrupting before Rong Cheng could finish. "I won't use a child as a shield." Any parent would be unhappy to find their child used as a tool for business, especially one so young. If Wu Huansheng found out, their current relationship would shatter.
But Sang Ye didn't plan on actively sucking up to her either; that would put her in a subservient position. She would wait for the right opportunity. For now, she would maintain her cooperation with Jiang Siwei, selling instant semi-finished products.
…
Beyond rice and noodles, there was another staple loved by the masses: Rice Noodles. They had a smoother texture than wheat noodles and were better at soaking up the fragrance of sauces, making every bite flavorful. There were many types: rice noodles made from grain, wide sweet potato starch noodles, potato noodles, and mung bean vermicelli.
To make quality rice noodles, one needed long-grain or glutinous rice—plump and bright. After soaking overnight to let the grains swell, they were ground into a slurry. The most important part was the water ratio; if the slurry wasn't thick enough, the noodles wouldn't form.
Sang Ye stacked several tiers of steamers and spread the rice slurry evenly over smooth steaming cloths. After a few minutes of steaming, thin sheets of rice noodles were formed. Once cooled and brushed with oil, she stacked and sliced them into strands. Then, she let them air-dry. While wet noodles had a rich aroma but broke easily, dried noodles were more resilient—perfect for beginners who might overcook them.
…
The crawfish in the backyard had finally matured. At a glance, they were huge and fierce-looking. Cooking them would reveal if the outdoor environment was truly suitable for farming. Moreover, the twenty-day window was almost up; the base would soon enter a new weather cycle. Who knew if the next "random" season would be a freezing winter that would kill the shrimp?
As for the "sweet" crawfish she promised Lin Changli, she decided to make a Sweet and Spicy flavor. Who could argue that sweet and spicy wasn't "sweet"?
Sang Ye grabbed buckets and nets, leading Rong Cheng and the energetic Wu Jianing to the pond. If they had the patience, they could have fished for them with rods, but among the four people present (including the one upstairs), Sang Ye was the only one with any patience. If the others tried fishing, they’d likely burn the pond down in frustration, turning the crawfish into "pre-cooked" snacks.
The crawfish loved to burrow. Seeing people, they dove into their holes, splashing mud and turning the clear water murky. Predictably, Jianing and Rong Cheng grew impatient and ended up splashing into the water themselves. Despite the mess, they managed to haul in quite a few. Sang Ye, staying clear of the splashing, moved with practiced ease to catch the crawfish that had been spooked and fled to the other side of the pond.
She planned to harvest all of them; if they didn't eat them now, a winter cycle might kill them. The haul was impressive—nourished by spiritual energy and spring water, they were massive and numerous. This tiny pond yielded nearly a hundred catties.
She already had the flavors planned out: Sweet and Spicy for Lin Changli; Thirteen-Spice, Garlic, and Spicy as essentials; a pot of Brined crawfish to use up the sauce; and Oil-braised or Stir-fried for unique textures. She even planned "innovative" flavors like Salted Egg Yolk and Lemon Sour Soup—dishes that people either loved or couldn't stand. With such a large stock and plenty of people to feed (including the hospital), they would have a feast.
Catching them was fun; cleaning them was a nightmare. In the water, they just wanted to escape; once in the bin, they became vicious, waving their claws at anyone who approached. Jianing got pinched and wailed, then called her robot over to hold the shrimp while she angrily scrubbed their bellies with a toothbrush, muttering, "How dare you pinch me! Are you still tough now?"
There were so many crawfish that even the robots couldn't finish the scrubbing in time. Sang Ye, feeling bold, went upstairs and knocked on Lin Changli’s door. He had moved into the temporary housing opposite her room without a word after she took the master suite.
"Come scrub crawfish," Sang Ye said with a smile. "If you scrub them, I'll make the sweet ones for you."
Lin Changli looked like he had just woken up, hair messy and looking lazy. "Can I not? I want to eat them ready-made." He had the attitude of a lord but was open to negotiation.
"Be good. We’re short-handed. If I have to call others from the base to help, I'll have to share with them. If we share, you'll get less," Sang Ye coaxed, as if talking to a child.
Lin Changli thought about it, then obediently followed her downstairs. He sat on a small stool, his long legs looking rather cramped and pitiful. Rong Cheng watched with immense respect as Sang Ye walked into the kitchen to prep the spices.
Lin Changli wasn't afraid of being pinched. Unlike Jianing, he treated the crawfish like enemies on a battlefield. With two fingers, he would pinch their claws into submission, leaving the shrimp to wag their tails helplessly while he scrubbed them clean with a brush. His movements were swift and precise.
The most surprising thing was that he actually had the patience to do it one by one. Seeing the scene through the kitchen window—a Prince and a General steam-scrubbing shrimp—Sang Ye’s perception of Lin Changli was updated once again.
…
The Sweet and Spicy, Garlic, and Brined versions were relatively simple. Thirteen-Spice, however, required effort. "Thirteen" was just a general term; it could involve fifteen or twenty spices depending on taste: star anise, fennel, black pepper, orange peel, hawthorn, cloves, nutmeg, galangal, dried ginger... they had to be blended and fried to release their aroma.
Oil-braised and Stir-fried required a large amount of lard. The Salted Egg Yolk flavor used ten duck egg yolks for every two catties of shrimp; Sang Ye peeled a hundred yolks until her fingernails ached. For the Lemon Sour Soup, she prepped a mountain of tomatoes, lemons, and passion fruit, frying the tomatoes with ginger and chili until they formed a paste before adding the juices and high broth.
With her years of experience, she knew exactly how much sauce to make just by looking at the pile of shrimp. The prep phase was vital—too salty, too sour, or too sweet could be sensed right then. Even with the ventilation running, the kitchen and courtyard were filled with an intoxicating mix of aromas.
Rong Cheng brought in the first bin of cleaned shrimp. Sang Ye set up a meter-deep oil drum kept at high heat to flash-fry the shrimp quickly. She warned Rong Cheng to keep Jianing away from the oil vat; an accidental slip could be disastrous.
Jianing’s little hands were wrinkled from the water. Sang Ye rescued her from the scrubbing duty and took her to a side room to change into clean clothes. "Ningning, call your parents and ask them to come for dinner. Crawfish is best when it's fresh out of the pot, and we have so many flavors today."
Jianing nodded and skipped out. In the courtyard, only Lin Changli and Rong Cheng remained, diligently scrubbing the last ten catties. When Wu Huansheng and Mu An arrived, they were greeted by a shocking sight: the former Imperial Marshal, nearly soaked, sitting on a tiny stool and scrubbing shrimp with the seriousness of handling a state emergency.
Before they even entered the courtyard, Lin Changli sensed them. He didn't even bother looking up. Wu Huansheng and Mu An were used to his attitude and performed their military salutes as usual. Wu Huansheng looked at Sang Ye with a teasing glint. "You're truly something, aren't you?"
Sang Ye remained calm amidst the splattering oil. "He’s the one who ordered the dish," she said, conveniently omitting the fact that she wanted to eat it too.
…
After the scrubbing was done, Lin Changli—who was quite fastidious about cleanliness—spent a full thirty minutes in the bath, using fragrant shower gel to wash away the fishy smell. He had truly put in the effort for a meal.
In his mental landscape, the Phoenix was urging him to go down and be near the Guide. Lin Changli was genuinely puzzled: what made her so special?
He stepped out of the bath, the moisture on his skin evaporating instantly. He walked to the window and looked down. His muscles, though relaxed, were full of power, forming a perfect V-taper. The aroma and mental energy from the kitchen filled the building. Normally, this energy would benefit any Sentinel, but for him, it was only within the range of this Guide that he felt a true, long-lost sense of relaxation.
Lin Changli’s gaze darkened with thought.
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