It didn't take long for Chen Cheng to realise what the Waste Star beauty planned to do with the Five‑coloured Bird.
While plucking the feathers, Lan Grace also slipped the iron ring off the big rooster's leg. One glance at the inner side showed no number engraved, so she tossed it aside without a second thought.
From the instant she set eyes on the big rooster, all her focus was on the bird itself. The ring and its serial number were, at best, incidental.
She slit it open and cleaned it out, keeping the heart, liver, and gizzard, which she placed in a tin for later.
Even after the feathers and offal were gone, the bird still weighed a good eight or nine jin (about 4–4.5 kg). That truly satisfied her.
Almost impatient, she lit a fire by the stream, propped the rooster on a spit, and began to roast it whole.
Zhao Qingyan: (ˉ﹃ˉ)…
Chen Cheng: "…"
Roast chicken was the quickest way to get it cooked. Other chicken preparations would take longer, and Lan Grace could not wait.
Roasting a whole chicken isn't hard: as long as you master the heat and keep turning, it won't usually burn.
But to produce a chicken with looks and taste both top‑notch—skin blistered and crisp, meat tender and juicy—that takes a bit of technique.
Because a whole bird is a big, irregular, three‑dimensional shape, if you want every part of the skin to heat evenly, beyond minding the fire you must mind your hands.
On the fire rack, she kept turning the chicken in varied ways, making sure to care for every side and corner. Meanwhile, she asked Zhao Qingyan to lend a hand—she fashioned several long, slender skewers.
She threaded the chicken heart, liver, and gizzard onto the skewers. One hand roasted the bird; the other roasted the offal—busy and happy.
Soon, the easiest to cook—the liver—was ready.
She sprinkled a small pinch of salt evenly over the surface, then turned it over the fire a few more times to melt the crystals so they adhered all around; the liver was done.
Because this rooster was big, its innards were larger than a normal cock's.
The liver, as large as an orange, sent out an intense aroma—mouth‑watering.
Lan Grace's own greedy little demon was thoroughly roused.
Swallowing with difficulty, she offered the roast liver skewer to Zhao Qingyan.
Out of courtesy—much as she wanted to eat it herself—she would never ignore others and tuck in first.
Seeing what was being offered, Zhao Qingyan hesitated a moment, face conflicted, then reached out.
Pinching the little liver on the skewer between her fingers, she felt as if that small lump carried a weight dozens of times its own!
This was, after all, the entrance exam's test target—an achievement bred by the Alliance Star's Institute of Biological Research—the liver of a Five‑coloured Bird!
If she ate this bite, would the president call her to account?
But that glistening, golden‑reddish liver, gleaming with oil and exuding a seductive fragrance—after wavering and wavering again, Zhao Qingyan finally made up her mind—
She shut her eyes, steeled herself, and bit down.
At first bite, the outer layer was savoury‑salty without being scorched; inside, it was soft, glutinous, and rich—the wonderful taste shocked her taste buds.
In that instant, all her earlier hesitation dissolved.
Something this delicious—if she didn't eat it—would be a lifetime's regret!
With just one bite, Zhao Qingyan could barely control herself. In a few quick gulps she finished the liver clean.
The instant she was done, she regretted it.
Something so delicious should be savoured slowly, not dispatched in two or three mouthfuls.
What a pity!
Gulp—she suddenly heard someone swallow.
She turned her head to the sound and saw, to the side, the burly, muscle‑swollen, mountain‑of‑a‑man Chen Cheng staring plaintively at the empty skewer in her hand, swallowing hard again and again.
Catching Zhao Qingyan's glance, Chen Cheng hesitated several times, then finally asked, as meek as a lamb, "Is the liver of a Five‑coloured Bird… tasty?"
Perhaps thinking she wouldn't deign to answer, he added to himself, "It must be amazing. If it were me, I'd probably eat it faster than you."
He slid his gaze to the fire rack—to the other two offal skewers the Waste Star beauty was roasting.
Lan Grace moved with practised ease. The heart and gizzard were smaller than the liver, so she roasted two skewers in one hand with no strain.
Leisurely tending the skewers, she still looked after the roast chicken all the while.
The snowy skin had turned a faint yellow; the surface hissed and sizzled.
A bead of hot fat crawled down the plump curve, fell into the flames, and flared sparks.
Sniffing gently, the chicken's fragrance was spreading—stronger and stronger.
And there, fainter yet richer than the liver's, another aroma drifted—heady and irresistible.
This top‑grade ingredient of a rooster had not let her down.
She'd known it was prime the moment she had her hands on the bird—plucking its feathers had told her just how fat and tender it was!
If only she'd had a little honey… When the skin turned pale gold she could have brushed on a glaze, then again at around half‑done, and once more at roughly seventy per cent doneness—the colour and aroma would have been far better!
A pity she didn't have those things; she could only make do.
Even so, with such a top‑grade ingredient, the roast would still be excellent—at least the best thing she had eaten in the months since she came to this world.
The gizzard finished next. This time, Lan Grace barely hesitated before popping the roast gizzard into her own mouth.
Bite—Q‑springy with a touch of crunch; superbly toothsome.
She chewed and chewed—both texture and taste were worth savouring.
At her side, the big guy Chen Cheng stared at the other skewer—the heart—swallowing desperately, unable to dam the flood of craving about to burst.
"Er…" He finally couldn't help it. "Could I have one skewer? I'll swap a vial of nutrient solution."
To have come this far, Chen Cheng did still have some nutrient vials, though not many—certainly not enough for the remaining half month.
But he couldn't care about that now. With good food here, he wanted a bite.
On hearing him, Zhao Qingyan lifted her head and gave him a dismissive sideways look.
"How could we possibly be short of nutrient solution?"