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In her previous life while on a mission, she had hunted wild wolves in the forest. With their rations cut off at the time, she had roasted the wolf meat.
It was incredibly fragrant.
Even without any seasoning, it was exceptionally delicious when roasted.
Just then, a “ding” suddenly echoed in her mind.
The mechanical voice spoke again: “Merit Points increased by ten. Space Upgrade.”
Upgrade?
This Space could actually be upgraded?
At that moment, the scenery within the Space gradually appeared before her eyes.
Why had the Space appeared on its own?
Wouldn’t this risk being discovered by others?
She frantically glanced around, only to see everyone still engrossed in their own tasks, with no one paying her any attention.
Her heart finally settled.
It seemed this Space was visible only to her.
This must be one of the Space’s upgraded functions!
Just then, an official loudly asked, “Is there anyone here who can cook?”
The prisoners sat on the ground, none of them uttering a word.
Shang Ruoyi’s eyes gleamed as she smiled and said, “I can.”
The officials’ gazes fell on her, and they couldn’t help but frown. “You? You can cook?”
A young lady from the Prime Minister’s Residence knew how to cook?
Who would believe such a thing?
Even ordinary noble ladies never lifted a finger for household chores, let alone the daughter of a Prime Minister.
He Jingheng looked at Shang Ruoyi with slight surprise, his eyes filled with confusion.
This didn’t align with what he knew.
He had been aware even before their marriage that her life in the Prime Minister’s Residence had been extremely difficult.
The second daughter of the Shang family was timid and weak-spirited, too afraid to even raise her voice.
Shang Nian had never paid her any attention, and her life had been worse than that of the servants.
Yet, despite this, she had never dared to resist, never uttering a single word of defiance.
But from the day of their wedding, it was as if she had become a completely different person.
She retaliated in her own way against anyone who gossiped behind her back or mocked her to her face.
And today, she had actually volunteered to cook for the officials.
This made him seriously doubt whether the woman before him was truly the second daughter of the Shang family.
Who was she, really?
What could a person have gone through to change so completely?
“Hmph!” Madam Zhang snorted coldly. “I say, it’s better not to pretend to be something you’re not. A Prime Minister’s daughter who can cook? There’s a limit to lying.”
She cast a disdainful glance at Shang Ruoyi and said, “Don’t anger the officials with your terrible cooking and drag our He family down with you.”
He Ning’an walked over to Madam Zhang’s side. Though he disliked her words, he didn’t stop her.
After all, he held no fondness for Shang Ruoyi either.
Originally, he could have lived out his days peacefully under the title of a commandery prince. But because of Shang Ruoyi’s father, his life—and his son’s life—had been ruined.
Shang Ruoyi gave Madam Zhang a calm look. “It’s not like I’m cooking for you, Second Aunt. The officials haven’t said anything, so why are you in such a hurry?”
“Of course I’m worried you’ll drag our He family down! Haven’t you Shangs done enough harm to us already?” Madam Zhang snapped angrily. “Had we known you’d do such things, our He family would never have let a jinx like you through the door.”
“Whether I enter the door or not isn’t up to you, Second Aunt, nor is it up to me,” Shang Ruoyi rolled her eyes. “At the very least, I didn’t marry your son.”
“You!” Madam Zhang was about to retort when she heard the impatient voice of the constable: “Hey hey hey, from the He family, can you really cook?”
Shang Ruoyi nodded: “I’ll need plenty of dry firewood.”
She stepped forward and raised her hands before the constable.
“What’s this?”
“Master, how am I supposed to cook with these Fetters on?” Shang Ruoyi smiled faintly. “Are you afraid I’ll run away?”
Running was naturally impossible.
The constable eyed her coldly. “Listen well, don’t get any funny ideas. If you dare run, my blade won’t show mercy.”
He removed the Fetters from her hands.
Shang Ruoyi flexed her sore wrists, then extended her hand toward the constable again.
“What now?”
“The knife! How can I cut meat without a knife?”
The constable pulled a short blade from his robe and handed it to her.
As Shang Ruoyi examined the sharp edge, He Jingheng noticed an immediate and dramatic shift in her demeanor the moment she held the knife.
She became like an unsheathed blade—radiant and razor-sharp.
With practiced ease, she began skinning the wolf hides.
Her movements were so fluid, she might have been a seasoned butcher.
In moments, three intact wolf pelts lay before them.
“Ah, what a shame. These pelts won’t fetch much. A complete tiger skin, now that would be worth a fortune,” the constable remarked with a chuckle. “Didn’t expect you to have such skill.”
He Jingheng studied the flawless pelts, his gaze turning dangerous.
Such clean, precise knife work would take over a decade to master.
“These pelts are covered in blood. Best dispose of them quickly before they attract predators,” one constable muttered, eyeing the dense forest ahead. “Besides wolves, there are other beasts in these woods. If we draw lions or tigers, none of us will make it out alive.”
“Right you are.” Two constables moved to discard the pelts when Shang Ruoyi suddenly spoke up: “Master, let me handle the pelts later. The entrails too—I’ll dispose of everything.” She pointed to the bloodstains. “We’ve passed no water sources on this journey. Once my hands are dirty, there’s nowhere to wash them. They’re already soiled anyway.”
The constables nodded at her reasoning. “Fair enough.”
They were glad to avoid the messy task.
By the time Shang Ruoyi finished preparing the wolf meat, the constables had gathered ample firewood.
As the meat roasted over the flames, a rich aroma soon filled the air.
The constables couldn’t help but salivate.
“Any seasonings?”
“Just some salt.” One produced a small porcelain vial containing fine salt.
It was common knowledge that salt had always been a precious commodity.
Especially fine salt—rarely seen in markets, reserved only for nobility and high officials.
Common folk could only afford coarse salt, and even that was beyond many.
“Use it sparingly,” the head constable warned as he approached. “This salt is worth its weight in gold.”
Shang Ruoyi nodded. “Naturally.”
Pinching grains between her fingers, she sprinkled the salt evenly over the meat.
After a few more minutes of roasting, the wolf meat was ready.
Everyone present swallowed hard against their watering mouths.
As Shang Ruoyi handed back the knife and turned to leave, the head constable called out: “Hey, besides roasting meat, can you cook other dishes?”
“I can.”
He tore off a wolf leg and tossed it over: “From now on, you’ll be cooking for us.”
“Alright.”
Shang Ruoyi looked at the wolf leg in her hand, a triumphant smile curling at the corners of her lips.
She had known all along—few could resist her cooking skills. Winning over their stomachs was the first step in her plan.
The other prisoners, seeing the wolf leg in her grasp, all stared with greedy eyes.
Who would have thought that cooking for the guards would yield such a reward?
A woman stood up, fawning as she spoke: “Master, this humble woman can also cook.”
“Hmph, why didn’t you say so earlier when we asked? Now that you see the wolf leg, you’re suddenly eager. I despise people like you—get lost!”
The woman paled and quickly crouched back down.
Shang Ruoyi handed the wolf leg to Madam Qin. “Mother, shred the meat so we can share it.”
“Good!” After walking all day with only a single steamed bun to eat, the Spirit Spring Water had kept their strength up, but for people accustomed to lavish feasts at every meal, this was nothing short of torture.
And the aroma of the meat was simply irresistible, making mouths water uncontrollably.
Madam Qin shredded the meat. Though the wolf leg looked sizable, the He family was large, and each person could only get a single bite.
When it came time to distribute to the second branch of the He family, Madam Zhang snorted coldly. “Wolf meat? Is this even edible? What if it makes us sick?” Even as she spoke, her eyes remained fixed on the wolf meat in Shang Ruoyi’s hands, her throat bobbing with swallowed saliva.
Shang Ruoyi’s lips curved slightly—she had been waiting for this exact remark.
“If Second Aunt looks down on my cooking so much, then forget it. My skills are indeed crude, nowhere near the chefs of your Royal Mansion. In that case, you and Second Uncle shouldn’t eat any.” With that, she turned and walked away without a backward glance, heading straight for the third branch.