Chapter 9: Grilled Shanhai Pork

In Shanhai Marketplace, Ping Grass had finally been unlocked. Yun Tao clicked to check its details.

[ Shanhai Ingredient: Ping Grass

Origin: Kunlun Farm

Grade: R

Effects: Has a flavor similar to green onions; alleviates fatigue

Price: 1 Shanhai Coin per 1 jin ]

“Alleviates fatigue” meant it could help lift one’s spirits. Infused with spiritual energy, Ping Grass had a pungent, aromatic flavor that made it perfect for seasoning. Back in the day, Yun Tao used to eat it all the time before bed. Since it only grew on Kunlun Mountain, he’d even transplanted some fresh Ping Grass into his spatial ring so he could have it year-round. Whenever he needed it, he’d pluck a fresh sprig, chop it up, and sprinkle it into a pot—pure bliss.

Speaking of his spatial ring… Where had it gone? That ring was packed with treasures, and if he could just get it back, he’d have plenty of things inside to stave off his hunger for now.

Yun Tao rubbed his flat stomach and sighed, forced to confront his current, very broke reality.

“Host, you just unlocked a new Shanhai ingredient. You’re still unhappy?” The system’s cautious voice broke in.

“It’s just a seasoning. What’s there to celebrate? It’s not like it fills me up like Zhuyu does,” Yun Tao grumbled, licking his little tiger teeth. “I want meat.”

Not the ordinary poultry from the human world—he wanted the kind of meat that would actually satisfy him, the kind that’s bursting with spiritual energy.

“Hang in there, Host! At the rate you’re progressing, you’ll unlock meat-based ingredients in no time!”

“Hmm.” Yun Tao glanced at his inventory and stopped at the single Shanhai Token he had left. “Let’s pull a card.”

The system hesitated, then suggested tactfully, “Host, you’ve already drawn two UR cards in a row. Due to the gacha mechanics, the probability of pulling anything decent right now is incredibly low… If you want a better experience, it’s best to save up your tokens and pull multiple times at once.”

For context, the Shanhai card pools had no pity system. Using a single token could very well result in nothing at all. If the system were more blunt, it would’ve outright told Yun Tao that drawing now was almost guaranteed to be a bust—unless a miracle happened.

But Yun Tao didn’t care about odds. If he wanted to draw, he drew.

This time, he had a clear target in mind. He used his token in the resources pool.

He. Wanted. Meat.

And perhaps Yun Tao’s desire was so strong, so intense… that it actually triggered a miracle.

The resource pool shimmered and rippled, and—against all odds—a card appeared. Its background was a deep blue, with a silver emblem in the center: R.

The system was floored: !!!

Under normal circumstances, the system wouldn’t even bat an eye at a plain old R-rank card. But after pulling two consecutive UR cards, the fact that Yun Tao managed to pull anything at all was beyond remarkable. Just when the system thought Yun Tao’s legendary luck had run its course, he always proved there was no limit to his fortune.

The card flipped, and Yun Tao read:

[ Resource Card: Shanhai Pork

Grade: R

Origin: Bamboo Mountain Farm

Effects: Nourishing

Quantity: 50 jin ]

Yun Tao’s eyes widened: !!!

He jumped off his bed in delight, his earlier frustration swept away as his eyes sparkled like stars. He’d been craving mystical meat all day after dreaming about it the night before—and now, the dream had come true!

Sure, it was only 50 jin, and the Shanhai Pork didn’t compare to the legendary free-range meat from secret realms, but it was still spirit beast meat! Yun Tao swallowed hard, unable to stop himself from drooling.

Forget sleep. He scrambled out of bed, slipped on his little shoes, and went to knock on Tai Sui’s door. “Tai Sui! I’ve got something good!”

As a seasoned demon, Tai Sui wasn’t one to turn in early. He was still surfing the web when he heard Yun Tao call. Raising a brow, he asked, “What good stuff?”

For a glutton like Yun Tao to call something “good stuff,” it had to be something extraordinary. Tai Sui was so intrigued, he didn’t even bother pointing out that Yun Tao had just casually called him by name.

Yun Tao grinned mysteriously. “Come to the kitchen and you’ll see.”

The two of them headed downstairs, leaving Yun Fenghe undisturbed as he meditated on the spiritual soil in the courtyard. They went straight to the kitchen.

Yun Tao spread a disposable tablecloth on the counter and dramatically pulled out the Shanhai Pork. The pig this pork came from wasn’t large—50 jin was exactly half of its body. The meat had already been cleaned and processed, looking pristine and exuding faint traces of spiritual energy.

Grinning like a kid showing off a new toy, Yun Tao beamed at Tai Sui. “Spirit beast meat! Isn’t it a nice surprise?”

Tai Sui:”…”

He stared at Yun Tao, at the simple, unbridled joy lighting up his face over something as ordinary as a bit of Shanhai Pork. Since when had the gluttonous Taotie become so… down-to-earth? It was almost heart-wrenching.

Seeing Yun Tao’s sparkling eyes, Tai Sui gave a slight nod. “Yeah, it’s a surprise. Where’d you get this?”

For ancient beings like Tai Sui, who’d lived through the golden days of spiritual abundance, Shanhai Pork wasn’t exactly rare. But in this age of dwindling spiritual energy, it was indeed hard to come by. Yun Tao could not only summon Zhuyu but now Shanhai Pork too…

“Don’t worry about that.” Yun Tao’s hands balled into eager fists. “I didn’t eat enough at dinner. Let’s add a midnight snack! I’m thinking roasted pork. What do you think?”

Tai Sui, who usually carried himself with a casual indifference, straightened up, his long lashes casting shadows over his eyes as he replied, “Sure. I’ll handle it. We should marinate it first, right?”

“Yep, but first, you’ll need to clean up the remaining hairs on the pork skin. Then we marinate it.” Yun Tao, standing on a little stool, directed Tai Sui like a seasoned chef, even pulling out a jar of honey and a small bunch of Ping Grass from who-knows-where.

The way Yun Tao treated the half-side of Shanhai Pork was almost reverent—it was clear how rare and precious this ingredient was to him. What’s more, Taotie was famously possessive about food. And yet, even when Yun Tao was starving, he was willing to share it with them. Over the past couple of days, he hadn’t once mentioned wanting to eat Tai Sui or Yun Fenghe.

Tai Sui pressed his lips into a thin line, a flicker of emotion passing through his chest.

With a turn of his hand, a flame—the Tai Sui Fire—sparked in his palm, incinerating the fine hairs on the pork skin with precision.

The mouthwatering aroma of roasted pork wafted through the kitchen window, mingling with the cool night air.

Yun Fenghe, meditating in the courtyard, opened his eyes and came to the kitchen to help.

Before long, the three of them carried the freshly roasted pork outside, setting it on a table in the courtyard. They paired it with a pitcher of passion fruit and lime juice for a proper midnight feast.

Yun Tao tore off a big chunk of pork. The honey and Ping Grass glaze gave the crispy skin an irresistible golden sheen. The pork itself had charred edges and a juicy, tender interior, with fat dripping tantalizingly down as he bit into it. His little tiger teeth struggled to tear into the meat, but his sheer determination paid off, and he managed to pull off a small piece.

The pork skin was delightfully chewy, and the Tai Sui Fire had locked in the spiritual energy while imparting a unique, smoky flavor. Each bite was a burst of savory goodness, so delicious that it overlapped with the dreams Yun Tao had been clinging to. Alternating between meat and juice, his eyes misted up ever so slightly.

At last—after everything—he was finally eating roasted meat bursting with spiritual energy.

Yun Fenghe sliced him a plate of pork, squeezed some fresh lemon juice over it, and set it down in front of him. “Why are you crying over food?”

“I’m not crying!” Yun Tao’s emotions, as fleeting as summer rain, evaporated in an instant. He dove back into his meat, devouring it with gusto until sleepiness began to creep in. His head bobbed forward, still holding a half-eaten chunk of pork in his mouth, nodding off like a dozing duckling.

Tai Sui scooped him up, glanced at Yun Fenghe, and said, “I’ll put the little rascal to bed. Leave the cleanup to me.”

Yun Fenghe nodded, and by the time Tai Sui returned, the courtyard was spotless, as if the feast had never happened.

Tai Sui frowned slightly, but Yun Fenghe just smiled. “I’m heading back to my shrine to rest. Good night.”

Tai Sui paused on the second-floor windowsill, hesitated for a moment, then turned back and said—cool as ever—”Good night.”

Yun Tao slept soundly, the scent of roasted Mountain and Sea Pork lingering in his dreams all night long.

The project was finally over, and Jiang Qing’s team had earned a well-deserved break. Pan Da had slept in until nine before dragging himself to the gym. It was his day off, so there was no chance of snagging breakfast from their team leader’s go-to pick, Taotie Delicacies. He had to settle for something from the café downstairs, but it just wasn’t the same.

After changing into his workout gear, he walked out to find his trainer waiting for him. The trainer frowned. “Haven’t seen you in a week, but you look like you’ve lost weight. Been eating less?”

The trainer knew Pan Da well—this guy ate more when he was stressed, not less. So the usual “work stress” excuse didn’t hold water.

Pan Da checked himself out in the mirror and grinned smugly. “Nah, I haven’t lost much weight. I just feel better—more energetic. My posture’s improved, so I probably look slimmer. But yeah, I’ve been watching what I eat. There’s this restaurant near my team leader’s place—Taotie Delicacies. Their signature dishes are all Zhuyu-based. Tastes amazing, super healthy, and keeps you full. We’ve been eating there every day. We even cut out afternoon snacks and junk food.”

The trainer raised an eyebrow. He’d heard about this place before—Pan Da had raved about it in his group chat. “Is it really that good?”

“It’s legit,” Pan Da sighed. “But they don’t do delivery. I didn’t get to eat there today, and I’m feeling the loss.”

“That’s easy,” the trainer said. “Ask your team leader for the owner’s contact info. See if they’d consider offering delivery, maybe with a minimum order amount. If they agree, I can spread the word in our group chat—bet plenty of people here would want to order lunch.”

The gym wasn’t small. While it didn’t have an in-house restaurant, it did have a convenient dining area where people could bring their own food—or, occasionally, group-order healthy meal deliveries.

Pan Da nodded enthusiastically. “Good idea. I’ll ask!”