Famine 79: Red Bean Double-Skin Milk

The little incident didn’t dampen anyone’s spirits. After lunch, Zhong Manwen strolled along the tree-shaded path, returning to her room.

The two young men were restless and wanted to take a walk, so the old lady sat alone on the veranda, brewing herself a pot of tea. The jungle was cool and tranquil—even at noon, the air wasn’t stifling. The wooden cottages seemed to blend into the shadows of the trees, surrounded by lush greenery.

After so many years living in tents, Zhong Manwen was used to a bit of background noise. She activated the soundproofing array, listening to the chorus of cicadas and birds. Sipping tea and turning the pages of a book of essays, she felt peaceful and drowsy. Before long, she dozed off, leaning against a pillar.

When she awoke, Zhong Manwen discovered she had been moved to the tatami, lying on soft white bedding.

Her son had taken care of everything, adjusting the pillow to the height she liked best, and folding the quilts just so—layered for perfect comfort.
After so long asleep, Zhong Manwen didn’t feel any soreness; instead, she was deliciously lazy, her muscles supple.

The sliding doors were all closed, filling the room with soft, dim light. Sunbeams from the jungle filtered through the washi screens, casting gentle, dappled shadows of trees.

Other than the shadows of leaves, the sliding doors also traced the shapes of two young men play-fighting outside.

Out on the porch, muffled laughter and roughhousing could be heard: “You’re finished, young master! I win.”
Tang Qinghuai was giggling: “Hahaha, that tickles… Senior, not so loud, don’t wake my mom…”

As Zhong Manwen emerged from her sleepy haze, a sudden thought crossed her mind—

She would give up everything she possessed in exchange for this day never ending, for a life like this to last forever.

If only that were possible.

The old woman stretched languidly and called out, “Qinghuai.”

Instantly, the noise on the porch flipped about. Tang Qinghuai slid the door open, “Mom, you’re awake?”

“How long did I sleep?”

Li Shize was still picking leaves out of his hair. Tang Qinghuai checked his watch. “About an hour and a half. It’s almost two in the afternoon.”

Zhong Manwen smiled, “Come on, I’ve rested enough. Let’s go for another soak.”

“This time, we’ll try the milk bath.”

…………
……

The milk pool was hidden among thick shrubbery, at the deepest end of the bathing area.

At the entrance stood a sign: [Forest Hot Spring Inn—Rule 1: Guests who have eaten tomato hotpot within 24 hours may not enter the milk pools.]

Tang Qinghuai gave it a cursory glance, then led his mother around a bend.

Suddenly, he caught a faint, milky sweetness in the air.
A wave of profound warmth flooded Tang Qinghuai, rooting him to the spot.

“…Huh?” he murmured.

Zhong Manwen turned to him. “What’s wrong?”

For some reason, the instant Zhong Manwen looked back, that strange, comforting warmth inside Tang Qinghuai vanished.

He scratched his head, puzzled. “No, it’s nothing.
I just, for a moment, felt like… whatever I did in this pool, I’d be forgiven…”

“But, the moment you spoke to me, it was gone.
Must have been my imagination.”

The buff of +15% defense was enough to thrill any eligible player.
Even with the requirement of a separate ticket, the milk bath was the most crowded of all.

But it didn’t feel crowded at all.

Once inside, they realized that the milk bath was actually a whole zone. There were seven or eight pools in all, each cloudy-white, winding and branching. In the open areas were tables and chairs, where players played cards or rested.

Each milk pool was a different temperature.
The outermost was about 25°C—a cool pool; next came 35°C, the next was 45°C, and so on—the deeper in, the hotter the water.

Most players gathered in the 35°C and 45°C baths—the ideal temperature for human bathing.
Of course, with their bodies enhanced by the game, a few skilled players lounged in the 55°C spring, steaming red as shrimp, talking and laughing as if nothing troubled them. No one ventured into the even hotter pools.

Naturally, Zhong Manwen’s group chose the most pleasant, the 35°C bath.

Step by step, they waded into the steaming water, reclining back and letting the faint scent of milk cheese envelop them—sheer bliss.

As a unisex pool with special effects, everyone was required to wear loose swimwear.

Many eligible players were near euphoria, clustered together by combat squad, bare-chested and brimming with excitement and energy, chattering about which tough missions they’d take on next—this time, they’d show those bastards a thing or two…

Most players’ eyes shone with ambition and drive.

Yet many others sat at the tables, idly playing cards and glancing intermittently toward the entrance, as though awaiting something.

In the water, lowering her head to comb her hair, she, too, was waiting.

Suddenly—

A group of a dozen hulking men, clad in bathrobes, all broad and muscular,
The two in front were especially powerfully built, red-haired and bronzed—Allen, the mercenary troublemaker, and his brother, Gray.

Zhong Manwen recognized them. Gu Haoping’s dossiers had referred to Allen and Gray, a pair of notorious wasteland bandits, known for killing and robbery, often operating around Bone Ferry.

“Hmph, what’s with these supposed golden rules?”
Allen shot a disdainful glance at the sign, snorted, and walked straight to the 35°C pool.

The hum and chatter instantly faded. Everyone stopped talking, eyes on them.

Splash!
Allen’s muscles flexed as he stepped into the water.

Instantly, everyone else in the pool shifted away, parting to give them space—tense and poised, hands resting on defensive gear.

…
………

A second, two seconds, three…ten seconds.

Nothing happened.

…
Puzzled glances passed between everyone. Zhong Manwen frowned.

Splash, splash, splash!
Gray and the other gang members plunged in after him, a dozen figures dropping into the milk bath like dumplings into broth.

Allen stood in the pool for a moment, then flopped onto his side, stretching out and swimming a lap.
His body was soon drenched through with the milky water.

…
………

Still, nothing happened.

Allen spread his arms, meeting everyone’s gaze:

“Ha…”

He broke into raucous laughter, slapping his thigh.

“Hahahahaha! Please, what was I expecting? What was supposed to happen, exactly?”

The gang all roared along with him, the sound shattering the uneasy silence over the hot spring.

Gray joined in, thumping his own thigh, “That’s it? Bro, I feel nothing but good.”

“Yeah, I even keep burping tomato, but I don’t feel the slightest discomfort.”
Allen stretched, leaning back comfortably and splashing water lazily.
“All that scare talk, nagging like a skinny old lady, and it’s no different than hot air. This water—man, it’s great. I could get used to this.”

Gradually, the rest of the bathers glanced at one another, then drifted back to their original spots.

Some resumed soaking, others played cards or chatted. The buzz returned to the milk bath.

But many had become…
Distracted.

Zhong Manwen felt a complicated mix of emotions and sighed deeply.

It was over.

After a moment’s thought, she said, “As soon as we leave, you two go and find Li Cui’e to arrange a personal security detail—at least three—no, five—eligible players each.”
“Don’t sleep too deeply these nights. Take turns on watch. If you have to, move to the town hall or the factory…”

Tang Qinghuai still seemed unclear. Li Shize, though, had seen it before; he knew all too well what Bone Ferry’s collapse looked like, and the two of them began to discuss it gravely.
The good days for service players, it seemed, were coming to an end.

The future needed planning, of course. But since they were here at the hot springs, they might as well keep soaking.
Zhong Manwen wiped her face with a towel, chatting idly and letting time pass.

Soon, more than twenty minutes slipped by.

Zhong Manwen felt loose and comfortable all over, finally getting up from the pool.

Those bandit types, far from feeling any ill effects, seemed more at ease than ever.
Some complained the water wasn’t hot enough and moved to another pool, from 35°C to 45°C.
Some put on eye masks, luxuriating to the point they nearly rattled the rafters with their snoring.

Ten more minutes went by before a clear, cheerful female voice rang out: “All right, I give up! I really can’t take it anymore!”
“A fool’s luck, just like the ancients said!”

Zhong Manwen turned to see Yi Zheng—the very rebel girl who had helped her in her darkest days.

Yi Zheng, still in a ponytail, slapped her muscular arm down on the card table at the edge of the 45°C pool, laughing.

Sha Tong lounged across from her, lazily remarking, “A bet’s a bet, little sis.”

“As if I need reminding?” Yi Zheng glared at him, cleared her throat, clapped her hands, and proclaimed, “Hey! Anyone here hungry?”
“One mini dessert for everyone—red bean double-skin milk, or osmanthus sweet tofu pudding—pick your favorite, my treat!”

Cheers erupted around the pool.

Allen was obviously in high spirits, roaring, “Sister Yi, generous as always! Makes a real difference, now that you’re deputy captain.”

Soon, Yun Zhong brought over bowls of double-skin milk and sweet tofu pudding, which Yi Zheng personally handed out one by one.

When Yi Zheng stopped at Zhong Manwen’s side, they exchanged a look and shared a wry smile. Zhong Manwen chose a red bean double-skin milk and settled into a lounge by the table, cooling off and gazing at Allen and Gray out in the milk bath.

The red-haired brothers chatted, utterly at ease.

Allen was floating on his back, hands folded under his head. “Look, I’m floating.”

Gray gave a thumbs-up. “Bro, you always did have a knack for the water!”

Suddenly, Zhong Manwen’s eyes fixed on them.
She realized something very important.

Beside her, Li Shize was still talking over security: “I’m not staying here tonight. I’ll go back early, set up explosives by our house…”

“No…” Zhong Manwen said slowly, “Maybe… you don’t need to.”

“What?” Li Shize was startled.

Zhong Manwen gave no answer, only bowed her head and took a spoonful of red bean double-skin milk.

The red beans had just been marinated—sweet, soft, and sandy, with a spoonful of red bean paste on top of the pudding. The hot spring’s double-skin milk was nothing like the factory-made kind. This was real, slow-cooked, traditional double-skin milk, with a thick, cheese-like layer of clotted cream, rich and fragrant. The sweet red beans mingled with the dense, milky aroma, melting instantly on her tongue.

Best of all, the double-skin milk was ice-cold. After soaking so long in the hot spring, her whole body flushed and warm, the first spoonful soothed her heart—unspeakably pleasant.

Zhong Manwen glanced at Allen and Gray a couple more times. At last, she was fully at ease, her expression softening.

“No need. Sleep well tonight.”

“I think I know what’s wrong with those men.”

In the old lady’s gentle features, a trace of fear flickered and trembled.

“The Farm Master… may be even crueller than we imagine.”