Famine 129: Bavarian Crispy Pork Knuckle

While waiting for the team to wake, Si Zhiyan received a piece of good news.

He He had finished her retreat.

The girl floated weightlessly amidst the jungle. Her black veil and skirts spread outward in all directions, draping over treetops and the grass below, tracing to the horizon. Beneath those heavy folds, her delicate, pale face was at once solemn and kind.

So abrupt, and yet as though fused with the forest—inseparable. It felt as though the entire woodland was her domain; even at a single glance, one could sense her latent might.

If this were a game, such an appearance would already mark her as a final boss.

He He offered Si Zhiyan a deep bow.
After their previous conversation, her resolve hardened, she finally embraced the full weight of responsibility as the Daughter of the Celestial Vein.

Standing atop the treetops, Si Zhiyan smiled. “You look much changed.”

He He shook her head slightly. [Strange, isn’t it? When I let go of my destiny and heritage, it was as if the Celestial Vein began, all the more, to trust me completely…]
[How I look now is no longer quite the same as back then.]

Si Zhiyan replied, “Perhaps it’s because we are now those fated to change the world.”

He He tilted her head: “You believe that?”

Si Zhiyan smiled. “All good omens benefit us, so of course I believe; all evil omens should not be superstitiously heeded—man must triumph over fate.”

He He couldn’t help but laugh softly.

She parted her lips and began to chant a sacred, ethereal song. Under its melody, the grass and trees that had covered the edges of the original hot springs faded away, revealing three new spring pools.

Spring was scarcely the right word—one of them was almost large enough to be considered a small pond.

[These are the new springs I can open to you, for now,] He He said.

[Also, the so-called special springs aren’t truly hot springs, but a physical manifestation of Celestial Vein power.]
[With my current mastery, I can summon a spring anywhere you wish. Within the realm of Tianman’s Fortune, as long as it’s within your line of sight, I can place a special spring pool.]

Si Zhiyan replied at once, “You’ve done me a great favor.”

It was well known that the Living Spring Pool was in constant demand. Many powerful squads, about to embark on quests, would plead and beg just to soak once before setting out. Some would lay out their bedding to camp in the lobby for days, just to wait their turn. In fact, some players would only schedule their missions according to when they could book a hot spring slot.

Who could blame them? The Milk Pool granted a 15% defense bonus—it could save a life!

With survival at stake, competition was fierce.

The Forest Spa was perpetually overbooked, and with so many diehard min-maxers, everyone joined the scramble in silence, tears in their eyes.

Weren’t they all here to relax? Was there any need for this rat race?
Si Zhiyan swept his hand and posted a notice, announcing that the Living Spring Pool would be moved near the farm’s main entrance.

Coincidentally, by the farm gates, a group of shrewd players had jointly set up a small roadside inn.

They were fairly competent players, led by someone surnamed Wang, who had joined the farm back in the convenience store days. Tired of living with their heads on the chopping block, they sold off all their cursed gear, borrowed from every friend and relative, scraped together enough points to make an offer Si Zhiyan couldn’t refuse, and at an almost astronomical price, rented a small plot by the entrance from him.
They built their own houses, laid out tables and chairs, and from the farm bought flour and ingredients to produce filling, easy-to-carry foods—serving rice balls, compressed biscuits, chocolate, energy bars, and more.
Their guts and smarts paid off. Though they risked everything at first, business now was said to be thriving. Since the farm’s gate was a fair distance from Imaginary Town, players often met and rested at the inn, resupplying briefly. It had subtly become a new gathering hub.

It meant regular rental income with zero effort; Si Zhiyan was happy to see it.

On this occasion, he negotiated to have the Living Spring Pool placed next to the inn, making use of their facilities. New rules would be introduced: the farm would charge an entry fee of 200 points per person, each with a one-hour limit. After a buff and a bath, players could grab a rice ball and set out immediately, fully prepared.

Of course, to avoid disrupting players with existing forest spa bookings, this policy would come into effect in three days’ time.

It was said that when Yun Zhong discussed this with the inn’s proprietor, the man was so delighted he nearly fell out of his chair. Grasping Yun Zhong’s hand, he poured out his gratitude for thousands of words, vowing to ensure the staff and infrastructure would be perfect, agreeing to every term in a panic lest anything go awry.

He was so overjoyed he burst into tears, swearing to be a farm-folk for life, to follow the farm owner forever… But that’s another story.

Si Zhiyan sipped his tea.

Apart from this, the Abyss was rather chilly and dim—the construction of some new onsen facilities would be just the thing. And Si Zhiyan had an idea…

……
…

Yan Cheng slept like a log, body curled in the soft bedding, breathing even, mind oblivious to the world.

For all those arduous days, Yan Cheng had stood alone—the squad’s only chosen. Though not highly ranked, he always took the toughest jobs, rushing into the most dangerous moments of every fight. The squad would rest only when he did; at the slightest sound, he’d rouse. Gone was the ironclad coat and its sharp lines; here, his edges had softened. He seemed almost too ordinary to be the pillar of the squad.

In the standard double room, Ye Xianqing had long since risen, preparing for his permanent stay at the inn. He’d unpacked his luggage and supplies and arranged his scientific instruments and medicines.

When he had a moment, he’d sit by Yan Cheng’s bed, tapping him softly with his knuckles, a subconsciously gentle smile on his face.

So Yan Cheng’s sleep lasted all the way to the third day’s midday.

He was woken not by Ye Xianqing, but by an overpowering aroma.

Yan Cheng blinked groggily awake, to see Ye Xianqing, glasses perched on his nose, sitting at the desk under the lamp, focused on a petri dish.

“You’re up?”

Yan Cheng stared at him a while before nodding. “Yeah. Smells amazing. What’s that?”

“No idea,” Ye Xianqing put down his tools and turned. “I heard some commotion outside earlier; maybe it’s the inn’s owner cooking something.”

“……”

The light was warm and soft. Ye Xianqing’s features gentle; his eyes behind the lenses reflected the inn’s glow.

It was just the two of them. The light was dim, with distant lava making a faint, flowing sound.

Yan Cheng, leaning against the headboard, asked quietly, “Are the things you wrote in your letter… still true?”

“…” Ye Xianqing seemed to hear his own heartbeat, lips parting: “I…”

BANG BANG BANG!! There was a sudden thunderous pounding at the door.

Both of them jolted, especially Ye Xianqing—he flinched, PTSD triggered by that sound, every hair on end. Yan Cheng shielded him instantly, ready for trouble. Any trace of intimacy vanished like smoke.

“Hey!” Nidhogg’s voice boomed through the walls, “Lunch is ready! Come eat!”

They shared a wry look and a silent, helpless laugh.

……
…

By the time the two, noses and cheeks tinged, made it to the dining hall, it was already full of squadmates.

“Captain! Captain, you’re finally up!” Hua Ning waved her fork ecstatically. “It’s a buffet lunch! A real buffet, wow!”

Before Yan Cheng could see what she was eating, Hua Ning shoved the forkful into her mouth, chewing in bliss.

“Ah… this flavor… If I could eat like this before dying, I’d die smiling…”

“Sis, you’re not going to die!” Hua An protested, half-laughing and crying.

Yan Cheng and Ye Xianqing each paid the 250-point entry fee and made their way into the dining hall.

Every table was loaded to capacity, food a dazzling abundance.

The first thing Yan Cheng noticed were two giant stainless steel tubs—one red, one white. Each was nearly chest-high, easily enough to feast a whole table. The white tub brimmed with creamy sauce, entangling mushrooms and a nest of pasta; the red one radiated tomato’s rich aroma, heaped with sticky penne in meat sauce.

Nearby, platters of enormous roast wings piled high, scents wafting in tantalizing waves. There was a tray of dark sauce dotted with little octopus and other seafood, laced with lemony tang. Another platter was already picked clean, except for leftover bits of onion and lamb—a faded hint that onion-and-lamb wraps had once been the main offering…

Ye Xianqing could barely take it all in—this was still the famine game, wasn’t it? After so much hunger, just the sight of all this food brought immense satisfaction.

All around, teammates erupted in joyous pandemonium.

“This is amazing!! So good!!”
“Two hundred and fifty points for all you can eat—basically giving it away.”
“Buffet… I must be dreaming. I’m gonna eat for the whole month right now!”

“Ugh… so full… No, wait, I can still eat…”

“Hurry up, eat, eat! Take what you serve yourself! Didn’t you read the sign? Waste food, you’ll have to duel the chef! I don’t wanna die!”

But all eyes were drawn to the centerpiece on the main table.

In the middle of the platter stood a mountain of glistening gold. On closer look, it was a heap of crispy pork knuckles, stacked into a little golden peak!

The pork skin had been roasted perfectly, forming a thick, glassy crust blistered with bubbles, deepening into an irresistible caramel color. Under the flowing lava light, they shone with an oily sheen. Beneath the crackling skin, tender, just-roasted meat peeked through, the strands of muscle clearly visible.
Space was left between each knuckle to keep the skin from softening, neatly arrayed in rows, each one golden and crisp, their rich aroma seeping into every breath.
Between the pork knuckles, a small mountain of sauerkraut was mounded.

Ye Xianqing could not pull his gaze away, eyes glued to the platter.

A sign before the pork read: One platter per person. Quarter knuckle per serving. Cut your own—if you mangle the cut, chef will take your meat.

Obvious who had written it; Ye Xianqing could only sweat in embarrassment.
No one was watching, but just picturing that person’s fierce face was enough—no one dared take more…

Ye Xianqing and Yan Cheng gathered plates and cutlery, taking a little of everything and—very carefully—slicing half a knuckle to share at their table.

These knuckles were bigger than any produced by a domestic pig, richer in sheen, fat appearing at just the right amount.
Both men were young and healthy, but half a knuckle looked enough for the two of them.

Yan Cheng took a thoughtful look, then lifted his share.

Even brushing his lips against the skin, tight and crisp, he felt its promise. Inhaling, he bit through the shell with a pronounced “crack,” and rich, fatty fragrance filled his mouth. The pork was perfectly done: the crust shattered into countless crisp shards, while the layer beneath, saturated with gelatin and collagen, was lush and sticky, suffused with the warm perfume of wine and spices—so rich and flavorful, each bite filling his mouth.

There was mound upon mound of caramelized skin over the knuckles.

Each bite crunched, oil flooding every corner of his mouth.

“…” Yan Cheng said nothing, but the more he ate, the brighter his eyes became.

Around him, comrades were already blissfully smeared with grease. Beside him, Ye Xianqing managed to keep decorum, but his eyes were slitted, cheeks puffed with food and happiness.

Beneath the crisp skin was thick, juicy meat. These knuckles had clearly been slow-roasted or braised before finishing in the oven; the pork was meltingly tender, needing hardly any chewing—just a press of the tongue and the fibers unraveled, releasing all the fragrance of wine and seasoning. The prime cuts were mostly lean, but so infused with fat they were moist and succulent, brimming with juices, every bite more satisfying than the last.

A few mouthfuls of crackling and meat, and satisfaction was overwhelming.

If it ever got too rich, a bite of sauerkraut cleared the palate. The pickled cabbage hadn’t fermented long, so it was crisp and slightly tart, a hint of brine, cutting through the heaviness and bringing out even more flavor.

Ye Xianqing especially liked the sauerkraut—he finished it before his meat and went back for another bowl.

It was the lunch hour, so the inn’s staff were eating nearby. Shi He nibbled pork and pasta a little at a time, washing it down with cola to cleanse the fat. Nidhogg had already finished; lounging against the wall, he watched the crowd with a sly smile, his slit-pupil gaze roving—especially lingering on anyone who’d piled their plate too high.

Every player under his gaze shuddered, hurriedly shoveling in food—

We weren’t going to leave leftovers! Really! We won’t waste a scrap!!

It’s too delicious for that—how could anyone waste it? Please stop staring at us!

Si Zhiyan sat at the farm, watching the scene from afar as he ate his own reserved share of pork knuckle.

He could see the headcount, and the portions prepared were exactly right. The dragon, he knew, just enjoyed seeing everyone act like they were at a final trial…

After the meal, Yan Cheng approached Nidhogg.

“Excuse me, friend—how long will meals like this be served at the inn?”

“Hm? For how long?” Nidhogg laughed lazily, “Every day, I guess. Until you die? …Just kidding.”

Yan Cheng didn’t reply, but fell into thoughtful silence.

Hmm… Si Zhiyan sipped his yogurt, pondering. It seemed they were still hesitating—it’d take something even more enticing to tip the scales.

If food alone wasn’t enough, he had other tricks prepared.
Just as well—Nidhogg, unreliable as ever, had forgotten the message entrusted to him.

Luckily, if the dragon was unreliable, others were not.

Shi He coughed gently and poked Nidhogg.

Nidhogg flapped his wings and straightened up.

“Oh, right.”
“Boss wanted me to tell you something… Uhh, what was it…”

“Ah! There’s an infinity-edge swimming pool on the castle’s highest floor—free for any guest staying over a month. If you’re interested, go have a look.”