Chapter 54

Song Xu isn’t enthusiastic about cooking because she has rarely cooked in her life. Even with convenient kitchen tools and various ingredients, she didn’t enjoy it, let alone in her current situation where resources are scarce. As a squirrel beastman, she prefers fresh fruits, tender leaves, and roots over cooked food. The snake she lives with also has no particular food preferences. She wouldn’t bother making a fire if not for occasionally wanting to reminisce about civilized life. Despite her lack of cooking skills, she believes her culinary heritage isn’t to blame for any poorly made food. She humorously invokes her “hidden culinary god bloodline” to find suitable seasonings.

One day, she discovers tiny red fruits that are incredibly spicy. Excited by her findings, she convinces the snake to try them, leading to a memorable and intense experience for him.

Determined to improve her cooking, Song Xu spends time finding various seasonings in the forest. She eventually gathers all basic flavors: sour, sweet, bitter, salty, and spicy. Despite her initial attempts at sweet and sour dishes not being well-received, she remains optimistic about spicy cuisine. She simplifies her cooking approach, focusing on adding spice to her dishes. The spicy seafood she prepares has a significant impact, even causing the giant tiger to react dramatically.

Amused by the tiger’s reaction, Song Xu plans to continue improving her cooking, hoping to make delicious meals for her companions. At first, the squirrel was quite the kitchen novice, but her growth in culinary skills was remarkable. As she mastered using various seasonings, her food became increasingly delicious. The most noticeable change was in the giant tiger.

Previously, when Song Xu placed cooked fish in front of her, she would take a few bites out of politeness and sometimes avoid the fire altogether. Now, she returned on time for every meal, eagerly waiting for Song Xu’s cooking, and had developed a peculiar love for spicy food.

Song Xu’s spicy grilled fish was exceptional. No matter how much she made, the giant tiger could eat it all, often leaving Song Xu to marvel at her enormous appetite.

In contrast, Wu Mu treated all food the same, making it seem like a waste to give him anything special. However, Song Xu ensured that both received equal portions.

“With continued effort, Hei Sen will soon give up eating primitive beasts!” Song Xu encouraged herself and the snake, seeing the giant tiger’s full belly after another meal of primitive beast.

Her strategy of enticing people with food worked, at least in growing Hei Sen’s appetite. The giant tiger now ate a large seafood meal at home and a primitive beast outside, like having a main course and a snack.

Song Xu lamented her trembling hands from grilling fish, wondering why the tiger could eat so much. Even Wu Mu had nearly evolved into a fisherman, instinctively going to the sea daily to catch fish for the tiger.

On moonlit nights, Song Xu pondered the giant tiger’s growing belly, feeling she had gained weight. “Can’t you eat a bit less? Eating too many primitive beasts isn’t good for you. Eating at home is healthier!”

The giant tiger lazily glanced at her, yawned, and licked her, then licked the nearby snake equally.

The snake recoiled and moved away. Initially, he slept in a separate corner, maintaining distance from the tiger, a habit from being a dangerous adult beastman. Song Xu moved between them, sleeping on the tiger when cold and on the snake when hot.

Lying beside the giant tiger, Song Xu felt something cool wrap around her foot. It was the tip of the snake’s tail. “Hey, don’t be a rogue. Tiger mom is watching.” She said but moved over to the snake’s side, where he had made a nest for her to lie in.

The giant tiger, sleeping alone, twitched her ears, hearing the cave’s subtle sounds. The noisy little cub often talked, and what once seemed like meaningless bird calls now occasionally made sense.

For instance, the cub mentioned, “If your uncle Wei Shan knew Hei Sen was still alive…”

The word “Wei Shan” triggered a memory of a round-headed, short-tailed tiger. The tail was short because she had bitten some of it when they were cubs. They were from the same litter. She was the fiercest, biting as soon as her eyes opened, while Wei Shan, nearly an adult, would cry if he couldn’t catch prey. She gave him her first catch, hoping he would become stronger and stop crying.

These scattered memories puzzled the big tiger as she gazed at the moon. Previously, she had no worries about food and shelter, but she always felt an inexplicable urgency, which she only relieved by fighting primitive beasts. Now, looking at the two cubs, her anxiety eased slightly. The increasing fragments of memory made her often stare at the moon, trying to recall more but failing, leaving her in a daze.

Song Xu didn’t realize her efforts were paying off. The giant tiger now ate less of the primitive beasts, often leaving them after a few bites. Perhaps the giant tiger would soon remember her name and that she had only one cub.