Behind the screens.
The staff member whose turn it was to monitor the feeds glanced at Daniel, who was fast asleep in a corner, his face covered by his hat. He opened his mouth to say something but ultimately resisted the urge to wake him.
'That guy from Great Xia is a chef. He wouldn't poison himself, right?'
In a suburb of Vancouver, not far from Alaska, a white housewife, just off work, wearily wandered through the supermarket's fresh produce section. Her cart was filled with various canned goods and salad greens.
'What should I make for the kids tonight? Lentil soup with rice? Smoked sausage with mashed black beans? Or maybe their favorite: a nacho salad bowl with a cascade of cheese...'
As she passed the seafood section, the alluring salmon caught her eye.
It was the peak of salmon season, and prices had dropped to an all-time low.
As one of the best sources of protein and fat, she unhesitatingly grabbed two packs of cleaned salmon fillets. Each fillet was as long as her forearm.
"Huh?"
Just as she was about to head to the butcher's counter to pick out a few steaks, a large, bright red fish fillet caught her eye.
'Red Salmon?'
Almost instantly, her mind flashed back to the video she'd seen online the previous night: the one of the young chef from Great Xia on the newest season of Wild Survival, making a creamy white fish soup.
'The kids are always saying they're tired of Marseille fish soup. Maybe I should give this a try?'
Compared to the relatively complex process of making Marseille fish soup, the creamy white fish soup from the video seemed incredibly simple to make. As long as you didn't burn the fish, you were golden.
Without much hesitation, she immediately grabbed two more packs of Red Salmon, tossing them into her cart. Then, she went to the side and picked up two packs of fresh fish heads and bones.
Although the supermarket sold them pre-packaged, hardly anyone ever bought them. The only interested customers were typically Asians. A white city-dweller like herself normally wouldn't have given them a second glance.
But she was an exception.
Having grown up by the sea, she'd been around such things since she was a child and didn't find them the least bit gross. In fact, she thought it was a good thing that nobody else ate them—it kept the price of these off-cuts nice and low.
「Two hours later.」
She stared in disbelief at the creamy white soup in the pot. Just as she had seen in the video, a shimmering, pale yellow layer of fish oil floated on the surface.
After a simple seasoning of salt and pepper, she ladled out a spoonful to taste. An incomparable, savory deliciousness burst forth on her tongue, as if a live salmon were thrashing about in her mouth.
'This... This is incredible!'
'How can it be? I didn't add any extra flavoring, just relied on the ingredients themselves, and it produced a soup this rich and savory?'
'Then what does that make the Marseille fish soup I've been drinking my whole life—the one that's a pain to make and requires a ton of extra ingredients and spices?'
'If I had to compare, *this* pot was what a real fish soup should be. Bouillabaisse, at best, was just a thick stew made by dumping half a can of tomatoes into some fish mush and then bulking it up with all sorts of other seafood.'
'Without all the miscellaneous clams and shrimp, without seasonings like saffron, Cayenne Pepper Powder, and canned tomatoes, you couldn't make a decent pot of it at all.'
'Oh, no, you couldn't even call it fish soup. It's seafood stew.'
"Hey, honey, what are you making? It smells amazing!"
Her tall, blond boyfriend wrapped his arms around her from behind, sniffing the air appreciatively. His eyes immediately landed on the pot of creamy white soup.
"I thought I'd make something different for you guys today. I learned it online—it's a Great Xia-style Red Salmon chowder."
"Red Salmon?"
Surprise flashed in the man's eyes. "Isn't Red Salmon supposed to be red? How did you get a white soup out of it?"
The woman ladled out a spoonful of the piping hot soup, blew on it twice, and held it to his lips. "Stop asking so many questions and just try it."
SLURP.
The man opened his mouth wide, taking the entire spoon.
As the scalding, savory flavor exploded in his mouth, his eyes shot wide open.
"This... It's such a pure fish soup! So savory!"
"Right? I've never tasted a fish soup like this in my entire life. It's so pure, so rich, and it feels incredibly nourishing. I feel all warm inside after drinking it. Do you think the kids will like it?"
"Oh, darling, I guarantee it. The kids are going to absolutely adore this soup! Quick, ladle me a bowl first. I can't wait to experience the gift of the Red Salmon again!"
The piping hot soup had just been served. Seeing her husband already ladling it into the children's bowls, the housewife glanced at the clock on the wall and walked over to turn on the projector.
"It's about dinnertime over there, too. Let's see if that amazing chef from Great Xia has made any new wilderness dishes today."
The sky was gradually growing dark.
Within the depths of the remote Alaska Forest, a faint fire flickered.
Wisps of white smoke drifted up from the rock formation at the base of a cliff, and a tempting aroma filled the crevice within.
With a slight flick of his wrist, Lin Chen swirled the pan. The fish head and belly bones sizzled, continuously rendering their fat.
The fish head had also been split in half. After he pan-fried both sides to a golden brown, he sprinkled on a little salt and set it on the pot lid to cool.
He picked up two plump, pale bolete mushrooms and made sure to point the camera at them.
"Everyone, pay attention. These two whitish mushrooms in my hand look a lot like the yellow ones from yesterday, don't they?"
"They both belong to the same family. I'm not sure what their English name is, but in Chinese, they're called *niuganjun*, or boletus. They're one of the most sought-after and popular types of wild mushrooms."
"But this type of boletus also has another, very evocative name: *jianshouqing*. Literally, it means 'see-hand-blue.' As the name suggests, any part you touch with your hand will turn blue. Of course, that was more common back when harvesting tools were crude; nowadays, the color change primarily happens after you cut it with a knife."
"Attention, attention, attention!"
He repeated the word three times for emphasis.
"If you don't have an in-depth knowledge of this mushroom like I do, do not, under any circumstances, take the risk of picking it, and absolutely do not eat it without proper preparation. Because this 'see-hand-blue' mushroom is poisonous!"
"Poisonous!"
To prove the truth of his words, his hand rose and the knife fell, slicing one of the pale boletes in half with a single stroke.
The flesh of the mushroom—originally white with a hint of yellow-brown—was exposed to the air. An instant later, its surface was covered in a layer of bluish-purple that spread with incredible speed.
"The knife, the cutting board, and anything else that has come into contact with this mushroom must be sterilized at a high temperature before you can use them again."
"Of course, the toxin isn't fatal. At most, it'll just make you see the magical little sprites hiding on the other side of this world."
"Some of you might be asking, 'If it's poisonous, why not just avoid eating it?'"
"Theoretically, you'd be right. But it's an undeniable fact that the deliciousness of this mushroom far surpasses that of any other. Once you've had a taste, you'll never forget it."