CHAPTER 22: CHAPTER 22: GINGER, EGGS, AND A TIGER

Su Qinglan didn’t waste time. As soon as Hu Yan’s broad back vanished among the trees, she also grabbed a small hide bag, which was left behind by the original owner and is used to carry items, and tiptoed out of the cave.

The morning air was cool in the beast world. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of thick trees. She could even hear birds chirping and leaves rustling, and somewhere far away, the low cry of a beast echoed.

She hugged the hide bag tighter to her chest. "Alright, Su Qinglan, let’s see what this beast world has to offer."

At first, she did not find anything good. The bushes were thick, but most held only sour berries or thorny branches. She crouched down, sniffed a few wild herbs, and wrinkled her nose. Too bitter. Useless.

Her stomach growled again. "Don’t betray me now," she scolded it.

But then, as she pushed deeper into the forest, she spotted a cluster of thin green stalks poking out of the ground. Her eyes lit up. The leaves were narrow, but the fragrance, when she rubbed the stem, was sharp and familiar.

"Ginger!" she gasped, crouching down. With quick hands, she dug into the soil, pulling out the knobby, golden-brown roots. They were smaller and rougher than the ginger she knew, but when she broke one open, the spicy, pungent aroma wafted into the air. Her entire face lit up.

"Yes! Real ginger! My ancestors must be blessing me."

She carefully placed the roots in her basket, her heart already planning recipes. With pork and ginger alone, she could at least stir-fry something simple. Maybe ginger pork with salt... it wasn’t spicy pork strips, but it would taste good.

Her search continued, and soon she stumbled upon a patch of broad-leafed greens, glistening with dew. They looked a bit like bok choy—tender stalks with wide leaves. She plucked several bunches. Nearby, she even found some long, wild onions growing by a stream, their scent sharp and clean when she pulled them free.

It wasn’t much, but already good enough for her first day. She washed the vegetables in the stream, humming to herself, pretending she was back in her tiny modern kitchen with a wok and soy sauce before the apocalypse.

"If I chop the pork thin, stir-fry it with ginger and green onions, then toss in these greens... add salt... maybe wild herbs for fragrance..." She licked her lips, already tasting it in her imagination. "It won’t be authentic, but Hu Yan won’t know the difference. Hah, spicy pork strips my foot... ginger pork stir-fry, here we come."

Just as she was about to head back, a shadow flickered above. Su Qinglan looked up just in time to see a large bird swoop away from the canopy, leaving its nest behind.

And her mind immediately lit up with an idea, and she was right.

Inside the nest, tucked between twigs, were several large, pale eggs, each almost the size of her fist.

Her mouth went dry. "Oh. My. Dear."

She crept closer, hands trembling with excitement. She didn’t know what kind of bird laid them—maybe a wild pheasant, maybe something more exotic—but food was food. Carefully, she scooped three eggs into her bag.

"Eggs, pork, ginger, veggies..." Her grin turned downright villainous. "This isn’t survival. This is a full Chinese home-cooked meal waiting to happen."

With her bag brimming with treasures, Su Qinglan practically skipped back toward the cave, already picturing the dishes: stir-fried pork with ginger and greens, maybe even a fluffy egg dish.

Her lips curled smugly.

"Hu Yan, you scary tiger, you’re about to fall in love with my cooking all over again."

On the way back, Su Qinglan hummed to herself, clutching the bag like it was full of gold. Vegetables, ginger, onions, eggs—perfect. But halfway up the rocky path to her cave, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Her smile froze.

Her brain supplied a very tragic fact.

"...I don’t even have a pot."

The bag slipped a little in her hands. She had been so excited about the ingredients, she completely forgot about the most basic thing... cooking tools! No wok, no pan, not even a clay pot.

Her stomach let out another growl, long and dramatic, like it was mocking her.

Su Qinglan grabbed her head. "This world really wants to test my patience, huh?!"

After a moment of frustrated pacing, she stomped her foot and muttered, "Fine. No wok? Then I’ll make one."

She marched straight toward the river, eyes scanning the riverbank. She searched and searched, kicking aside pebbles and smaller rocks until something caught her eye. Half-buried in the soil was a shallow, round stone with a smooth, natural curve, light enough that she could actually lift it.

Her eyes sparkled. "Oh ho... hello, my beautiful prehistoric frying pan!"

She squealed, hugging the stone before dragging it into the river. Kneeling by the stream, she scrubbed it clean, washing off dirt and moss until it gleamed faintly under the sunlight. It wasn’t iron or copper, but it would do the job.

Clutching her new treasure, she hurried back to the cave. Inside, she carefully set the stone in place, then spread out all her ingredients—ginger, greens, onions, and those glorious eggs. She wiped her hands on her clothes, excitement bubbling in her chest.

"Alright," she whispered to herself, tying her hair back with a strip of hide like a proper village cook. "Chef Su is officially open for business."

She started slicing the ginger with a stone knife she found in the corner of the cave, humming as she worked. The fragrance wafted up immediately, making her stomach growl louder as she imagined the delicious dishes she could make from it. She giggled, arranging the vegetables neatly to one side.

But just as she reached for the eggs...

THUD.

The ground trembled. Something heavy slammed against the cave entrance.

Her heart stopped. Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head.

At the mouth of the cave stood a tiger.

A monstrous, terrifying beast... striped fur glinting under the light, golden eyes glowing like molten fire. His shoulders nearly brushed the ceiling of the cave. His fangs gleamed when he exhaled, and his breath came out in hot, smoky clouds.

And right in front of his massive paws lay a dead beast, its neck snapped clean.

Su Qinglan’s soul nearly flew out of her body. Her lips parted on a squeak that was very close to a scream.

"Wha—wha—WHAT THE HELL?!"

She swallowed hard. "D-damn it... from where did this huge tiger come?! Am I about to be tonight’s dinner instead of cooking mine?!"