Chapter 190: Off-Season Vegetables

Jian Mo never imagined that even at Jiujiu’s size, something could still bite its butt.

He stared hard for several seconds before finally spotting a huge fish chasing its tail and nipping at it like a hook.

Jiujiu tried to rake the fish with its claws when it glanced back, but the fish was far more agile.

Whenever Jiujiu attacked, the fish darted away; whenever Jiujiu turned back around, the fish resumed biting its tail.

After a few rounds of this, Jiujiu was on the verge of a breakdown, yowling as it paddled for shore—only to get nipped on the rump every so often. Each nip made it surge forward even faster. After several nips, it was as if the fish had switched on Jiujiu’s turbo.

Luckily, the little brute was thick-skinned and long-haired; the fish probably hadn’t managed to break the skin.

Watching from shore, Jian Mo scolded it, hating the iron for not becoming steel: “Jiujiu, just fly! How are you ever going to outswim a fish in a lake?!”

Jiujiu screeched, its voice cracking, “Keh-keh-keh!!!”

The giant wolf beside him—Wu Jiong in beast form—translated: “It can’t get a run-up on the lake, and there’s no airflow. It can’t lift.”

“…” Jian Mo was speechless.

“I’ll go help,” said the wolf.

Jian Mo slid off his back to let him dive in.

Jiujiu was flailing, spraying water everywhere and looking miserably bedraggled. As soon as the wolf hit the water, it veered aside to give him room to maneuver.

The wolf swam straight for the fish to grab it.

The fish didn’t flee at the sight of him. It even leapt from the water, trying to bite his nose.

It failed. At the instant it snapped at his snout, the wolf caught it just below the gill cover and hauled it from the water.

“What a monster of a fish,” Jian Mo breathed.

It was nearly half Jiujiu’s length—close to two meters. No wonder it dared chase him.

Clamped in the wolf’s jaws, the great fish thrashed wildly, trying to slap his cheek with its tail.

But the wolf’s grip was too precise. Whether it tried to bite or tail-slap, it couldn’t hurt him.

Seeing the capture, Jiujiu exhaled in relief, trailed after the wolf, then suddenly lunged up and chomped down on the fish’s body with its mouth gaping wide.

The wolf gave Jiujiu a look.

Jian Mo, too, was startled by the move.

Under the gaze of wolf and man, Jiujiu stealthily let go and scooted back a step.

Jian Mo looked at the fish’s body.

Despite Jiujiu’s full-force attack, all it had left was a huge tooth imprint that hadn’t even pierced the skin.

That’s Jiujiu for you, Jian Mo thought, sincerely impressed.

The wolf soon carried the fish ashore.

They had planned to pull out some food Dense Stream had given them yesterday for breakfast, but with this catch there was no need to dip into stores—just clean the fish and cook.

The wolf lugged it a ways from the waterline, bit down hard until it was half-dead, then shifted back to human, drew his knife, and finished it.

Jian Mo moved closer, but Wu Jiong stopped him. “Careful. A fish can still thrash after it’s dead.”

“Right.” Jian Mo stepped back, putting some distance between them. “Even dead, there can be reflexes—but a fish this big is less likely to thrash violently.”

“I’ll prep it more,” Wu Jiong said.

Jian Mo squatted off to the side. Jiujiu squatted alongside, eyes shining—utterly vindicated.

Wu Jiong’s knife flashed, quickly breaking the fish down into sections.

As for the offal: with food plentiful, they kept only the swim bladder and discarded the rest.

“We can use the bladder for isinglass,” he said. “We’ve been short lately.”

Staring at the meat, Jian Mo suddenly noticed, “Does this fish have no scales?”

Wu Jiong nodded and beckoned him over. “Its skin’s more like hide.”

Jian Mo felt it—it was a little like pork skin. “Looks full of collagen. A fish this big—let’s braise it?”

“Alright,” Wu Jiong said.

Jian Mo rubbed his hands. “I’ll get the seasonings. We can braise it with a little meat sauce.”

He hauled out the big pot, stacked a few stones into a makeshift hearth by the lake, set the pot, and fetched the spices.

A fish this size wouldn’t cook through easily by pan-frying or grilling; braising would be the simplest and least effort.

Still, doing it well took some know-how.

Jian Mo had Jiujiu and Ying’ao help gather firewood from the nearby woods. He lit the fire, bloomed the aromatics, then added water and fish chunks and set it to a slow braise.

The fire roared beneath, and the pot soon burbled.

Fish needed time. Jian Mo looked out over the lake. “We were lucky last night. With a brute like that in the water, if we weren’t careful we could’ve been bitten.”

“No,” Wu Jiong said. “I was keeping watch. Generally, fish like this won’t attack anything larger than themselves.”

“Then why’d it target Jiujiu?”

Both of them looked at the culprit. Jiujiu’s furry face was all innocence. “Eep?”

“No idea,” said Wu Jiong. “Maybe a fluke.”

The morning forest was beautiful—distinctive mountains in the distance, the lake near at hand.

A gauze of mist rose, veiling most of the woods and turning the green into a deeper, duskier shade.

“Let’s wander the forest a bit,” Jian Mo said. “Stretch our legs. Waiting here is torture.”

Wu Jiong had no objection.

“Hey, you two keep an eye on the pot,” Jian Mo called to Jiujiu and Ying’ao. “If some animal drags it off, breakfast is gone.”

Jiujiu understood that, puffing out its chest. “Jiu-jiu!”

Meaning: leave it to me—no accidents.

Jian Mo turned the fish chunks, checked the fire, and pulled out two big logs, leaving one to simmer it along. “I’m counting on you.”

They slung their baskets and headed into the trees. The woods didn’t look promising for food, but you never know.

With baskets in hand, if they found mushrooms, berries, tubers, or edible insects and small critters, they could bring them back.

The morning air was damp. Jian Mo took a deep breath. “This air is wonderful.”

“If you like it, we can come out more often,” Wu Jiong said.

“I do,” Jian Mo laughed, “but on mornings like this, the best place is under a quilt.”

Autumn and winter were made for sleeping in. Getting up early to forage or hunt was for crazy people.

They looped the forest and found plenty of ripe, purple-black berries.

Autumn is peak season for many berries. Even wild ones were sweet and juicy—hard to resist.

They picked quite a few, staining their fingers a reddish purple. When it felt about time, they headed back.

Jiujiu and Ying’ao were planted in front of the pot, not moving an inch.

Seeing them return, Jiujiu called out twice, thrilled: “Jiu-jiu!”

“I can smell it already,” Jian Mo said. “Let’s see.”

He used a piece of wood as a makeshift spatula to turn the fish. The chunks rose; the white flesh looked cooked through.

The skin had half-melted, like long-braised pork hock.

Most surprising were the bones, which seemed half-melted too, trembling like meat jelly.

“Take a look,” Jian Mo called Wu Jiong over. “These bones seem… different?”

Wu Jiong glanced. “This species has bones like that—cartilaginous.”

“Oh? There are fish like that?” Jian Mo said. “Learn something new every day.”

When it seemed done, Jian Mo ladled some broth to taste. The seasoning was perfect, so he didn’t adjust anything—just sprinkled in a half spoon of crisped scallion and stirred.

It already smelled amazing. With the scallion, the aroma deepened into mouth-watering.

He quickly brought out dishes—one portion for himself, two for Wu Jiong, and split the rest between Jiujiu and Ying’ao.

The fish was so big they didn’t need to feed the winged beasts anything else; this alone would fill them up.

“The fish is hot,” Jian Mo warned as he served. “Eat slowly.”

He hadn’t finished speaking before Jiujiu plunged its mouth into the basin. “Jiu-jiu!”

“Alright then, dig in,” Jian Mo said.

The fish, though big and fierce, was tender and delicious—especially the skin, which, once braised, was rich and glutinous with that distinctive fattiness.

One bite and there was no fishiness at all, just the lovely collagen flavor, perfect with the meat.

The broth was thick and even a little sticky; the umami hid in that stickiness.

“If only we had rice or tubers cooked,” Jian Mo said. “Stirring this in would be heavenly.”

“I’ll go haul up another fish after we eat,” Wu Jiong said. “We can make rice tonight and have it together.”

“We’re heading to Rainrise after this,” Jian Mo said, smiling. “Want to bring them one?”

“Why not? We’re already close.”

“Eh, never mind,” Jian Mo said. “One fish won’t feed everyone, and hauling several is tiring. Besides, I checked—the lake doesn’t have many of this kind. We’d spend ages catching them. Let’s skip it.”

“Then we’ll swing by on our way back and haul some,” Wu Jiong said.

“That works,” Jian Mo nodded. “We can dry a few into fish jerky.”

“Jiu-jiu!” Jiujiu blared in agreement.

Jian Mo nudged its butt with his toe. “Agree to what? You can’t even catch them.”

“Jiu!” Jiujiu protested.

“It says it can lure them out,” Wu Jiong translated.

“Ah, a Jiu-shaped fishing lure, huh?” Jian Mo grinned.

After breakfast on the lakeshore, they packed up, shouldered their kits, and headed for the Rainrise Tribe.

They were already close. They arrived before noon.

Rainrise was the same quiet, pretty little tribe. As soon as they arrived, someone said, “Doctor Jian Mo, Chief Wu Jiong—you’re finally here. Our chief has been waiting.”

“You knew we were coming?” Jian Mo asked.

“Of course,” the tribesman said. “Dense Stream is so close to us, and we sent them greens. The chief said your curiosity would bring you to check it out.”

“Well then, you called it,” Jian Mo said.

“Our chief’s at home,” the tribesman smiled. “I’ll take you to him. Leave Jiujiu and Ying’ao with us—we’ll settle them in.”

“Thanks,” Jian Mo and Wu Jiong said.

They went to Qi Ming’s house.

He really was waiting at home.

“We thought you’d already gone to Birch Branch,” Jian Mo joked when he saw him.

Qi Ming sighed softly. “Zhou Zhi isn’t fond of clinginess.”

So, a setback in love. Jian Mo didn’t pry, and got straight to it: “We noticed lots of fresh greens here and got curious.”

“Come in and sit,” Qi Ming said. “They’re not wild greens—they’re our vegetables.”

Jian Mo and Wu Jiong exchanged a look, surprised. “Vegetables this tender at this time of year?”

“You mentioned off-season vegetables to me before,” Qi Ming said. “You said if it’s warm enough, you can grow them. We picked a warm patch and planted.”

Jian Mo’s eyes widened. “The inspiration came from me?”

Qi Ming nodded. “You mentioned it in passing one time. We tried it—and it worked.”

He had them sit, brewed tea, and set out nuts as snacks.

Once they were at the table, Wu Jiong asked, “Growing vegetables is a hassle. What made you decide to start now?”

“Zhou Zhi’s appetite hasn’t been great lately,” Qi Ming said. “He wanted tender greens, so I planted some.”

“You’re thoughtful,” Jian Mo said, moved.

“It’s nothing,” Qi Ming replied. “Once they started coming in, Zhou Zhi couldn’t finish them. Greens toughen fast, so we gave some to others in Birch Branch. Then we realized everyone loved them, and they traded well, so we planted more.”

“How are the later plantings doing?” Jian Mo asked.

“Quite good,” Qi Ming said with a smile. “If there hadn’t been so much, we wouldn’t have sent any to Dense Stream—the trip’s too far. But leaving them to rot is a shame.”

Jian Mo nodded—he understood.

“There are still vegetables in the ground,” Qi Ming said. “I’ll take you to see them. You know how Birch Branch bred that large-leaf ‘garlic’ that’s not as bitter? We planted it too. Now the bitterness is even milder and it tastes great—pick it and eat it as a vegetable, no need to deep-fry anymore.”