Transmigrating to the BeastWorld,I Picked Up an Adorable BeastHusband!-Chapter 38: Cooking wars(2)

Ningning was not given the largest pot and she didn’t mind that.

She knew better.

If she suddenly controlled all the food, even if it tasted good, it would only create resentment. People were more willing to accept change when it came slowly.

So she only kept a smaller portion for herself, about seven to eight fish and a moderate basket of tubers just enough to prove her point.

The rest, she handed back to Xiaoli and Nala.

"You two will cook most of it." she said calmly.

They both froze.

"We should cook?" Nala pointed at herself, startled. "But this is your method..."

"If I cook everything myself, you’ll forget what I did tomorrow." Ningning replied. "If you cook it yourself, you’ll remember till the end of time."

The two women looked at each other.

Then they nodded seriously.

To them, cooking was not just filling stomachs. It was survival. If a better method existed, they wanted to learn it properly.

Ningning started from the simplest step.

She showed them how to rub crushed ginger-like leaves and mountain garlic over the fish to remove the remaining smell.

She explained which herbs could be stuffed into the belly for fragrance and which leaves would turn bitter if cooked too long.

She demonstrated how to line the bottom of the pot with leaves first so the fish would not stick or burn.

"The water only needs to reach here." she said, marking the level with her finger. "Too much and it becomes soup. Too little and it scorches."

Xiaoli repeated every step carefully, her brows furrowed like a child learning to weave for the first time.

Nala handled the fire, adjusting the wood just as Ningning instructed, a stronger flame first, then lower heat after.

They made mistakes, of course.

One pot nearly boiled over.

Another time, Nala forgot to scrape one fish clean and the smell turned out strong.

Ningning only laughed, mistakes were meant to be made.

That’s how they learn.

She simply corrected them and made them try again.

Gradually, their movements grew steadier.

While the fish steamed, Ningning moved on to the tubers.

She peeled the yams and sweet potatoes, then cut them into uneven chunks and dropped them into another clay pot with water. Instead of boiling them to mush like the others usually did, she stopped the heat early, just until they softened.

After draining the water, she mashed them with a wooden pestle, mixing in crushed herbs, a bit of salt, and the fish broth collected from the steaming pot.

The smell that rose was warm and comforting, a mix of earthy sweetness and savory fragrance.

It was simple.

But it smelled like real food.

Not just something thrown together to fill the stomach.

Even Ningning paused for a second.

For a brief moment, the scent reminded her of home.

Of late nights in her old apartment, experimenting with cheap ingredients, trying to cook something decent after a long day.

Her hands slowed slightly.

Then she shook her head and returned to work.

There was no point thinking about things that no longer existed.

Instead, she watched Xiaoli and Nala as they carefully lifted the first batch of steamed fish out of the pot.

Their faces lit up.

The flesh was intact and tender, not broken apart.

When Xiaoli tasted a tiny piece, her eyes widened as if she had discovered treasure. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"It’s... sweet." she murmured in disbelief. "I didn’t know fish could taste like this?"

Nala quickly tasted some too, then covered her mouth, afraid she had eaten too much.

"It doesn’t smell bad at all..."

Ningning smiled faintly but said nothing.

Seeing them react like that was strangely satisfying.

More satisfying than winning any argument.

Because this wasn’t just about proving Dana wrong.

If one day she left or if something happened to her, these women still had to cook.

Still had to feed their people.

Techniques could be passed down.

Skills could survive.

That was far more important than pride.

And that was why she would pass on her knowledge whenever she got the chance.

She would teach them how to read and write.

So they could read and understand whatever she would leave behind.

"This looks nice. And they smell nice too. Good job."

The words were soft and simple, but Xiaoli and Nala both straightened unconsciously when they heard them, like children who had just received praise from an elder.

Their ears warmed.

Their backs grew straighter.

For beastmen, being acknowledged for providing food was no small thing.

It meant usefulness.

It meant value.

It meant that even in winter, when the snow buried the mountains and prey grew scarce, they would still have a place beside the fire.

The steam from the clay pots curled upward in pale white threads, carrying the fragrance farther and farther across the cooking ground.

It was not the heavy, muddy smell of boiled fish that everyone had grown used to over the years.

This scent was lighter, cleaner, touched with the sharpness of crushed herbs and the faint sweetness of yam.

It slipped into the air quietly, but once noticed, it was impossible to ignore.

A few women who had been scraping hides nearby slowed their hands.

Another, who had been washing greens, turned her head twice before finally giving up and walking closer with her basket still dripping water.

Someone pretended to look for firewood but somehow ended up standing right behind Xiaoli.

Little by little, more figures drifted over.

Their eyes kept glancing at the pots.

At the pale fish meat.

At the thick, fragrant mash Ningning was stirring slowly with the wooden pestle.

Curiosity showed plainly on their faces.

"How did you make it smell like that?" one of the older women finally asked, unable to hold back.

She leaned closer and sniffed again, disbelief written all over her expression.

"It doesn’t smell like river mud at all."

"And the color," another added. "It looks clean."

"Did you use some special leaf?"

Questions began piling up one after another, overlapping.

They were not mocking.

They were genuinely puzzled.

For years they had cooked fish the same way, throw it in water, boil, and eat. No one had thought there could be another method.