Chapter 46

Chapter 46: Rest

Chen Yuze and Hu Yifei agreed to the arrangement. It wasn’t that they lacked caution—if the fat man and Old Hu had wanted to harm them, they’d had plenty of chances in the tomb. When the giant serpent attacked, if those two had abandoned them, they’d have been nothing but snake food by now.

The five of them returned to camp. Since it would take time to reach Lingzi’s village, they decided to rest and regroup first. After finding a suitable spot, they took turns washing up—separately, of course. Chen Yuze wouldn’t have minded sharing a bath with Hu Yifei, but she swiftly vetoed that idea.

While the women cleaned up, Chen Yuze, Old Hu, and the fat man took over cooking duties. Despite being a rich second-generation heir, Chen Yuze was also a homebody—and a surprisingly skilled one at that. He whipped up a pot of hot soup and a few simple dishes with practiced ease.

“Didn’t expect you to have this kind of talent, Yuze,” Hu Yifei remarked, sipping the soup and feeling warmth seep back into her body.

The fat man was too busy stuffing his face to speak clearly. “Damn, kid, you’re full of surprises. This cooking? Even the chefs in Beijing can’t compare. Tastes like Imperial Banquet-level stuff.”

“You’re overselling it. Just something I picked up to kill time. I know my limits,” Chen Yuze said modestly. Cooking had been his hobby—something to do during idle hours. Over time, he’d picked up techniques from various regional cuisines. Not master-level, but decent enough.

“Overselling? Ask Old Hu—he’s traveled everywhere. Tell me, am I exaggerating?” The fat man shot Chen Yuze a look of utter disdain. At this point, modesty just sounded like false humility.

Old Hu, mouth full, blinked at them in confusion before gesturing at the food. “Why’re you staring? Eat! This is legit amazing.”

The fat man shrugged. See? Not exaggerating. Old Hu’s reaction said it all—the man looked ready to dive face-first into the pot.

Chen Yuze stopped arguing. Truth was, he’d never really evaluated his own cooking. He usually only cooked for himself, so no one else had ever judged it. But clearly, he’d underestimated his skills.

After the meal, everyone was too lazy to move. They lounged around, finally pulling out the artifacts from the tomb for distribution. Old Hu took the opportunity to learn some antiques expertise from Chen Yuze, while the fat man and Hu Yifei helped where they could. Lingzi, uninterested in the pottery and trinkets, focused on processing the serpent hide—now that they were in proper light, she could work more carefully.

Chen Yuze didn’t get greedy. He didn’t try to swindle Old Hu and the fat man either, selecting only a few items: the bronze lamp, Hu Yifei’s treasured dagger, his own black-metal blade, a strange piece of silk cloth, and Hu Yifei’s vanity case (contents included). Embarrassed by how little he’d taken, the fat man insisted on shoving a few more pieces at him.

Chen Yuze didn’t mention the Yuan-dynasty blue-and-white porcelain in his possession—that would’ve given the other two a heart attack. But overall, the value of what he’d taken was still lower than Old Hu and the fat man’s share. Money wasn’t an issue for him, and Hu Yifei didn’t care about appraisals. She had no connections to sell this stuff anyway, nor did she understand its true worth.

Once everything was divided, they tossed Lingzi a few pieces of jewelry as extra compensation for her hard work. By then, she’d finished processing the serpent hide—and proved herself ruthlessly efficient. She’d stripped the ribs, extracted the sinew, and salvaged every usable part. The meat? Practically worthless in her eyes.

As they happily trekked back, Chen Yuze checked his system to submit the mission. The rewards wouldn’t process until he returned to his main world—a rigid rule, but unavoidable. They had seven days left in this world, a limitation of their current low rank. Higher levels would grant more flexibility.

Lingzi’s village turned out to be a simple, rustic place—so remote it hadn’t even been electrified yet. Her father, the only family she had left, welcomed them warmly, immediately setting up a drinking feast. By nightfall, even Old Hu and the others were thoroughly drunk.

Between drinks, Old Hu shared why he’d entered this line of work. “Love money? Yeah, guilty. But it’s not just for me.” He wanted to fund roads and electricity for this village, send financial support to his fallen comrades’ families—let them live better lives, put his brothers’ souls at ease.

Chen Yuze respected that. So what if Old Hu loved money? His reasons were noble. As the stories flowed—tales of military service, sacrifice—Chen Yuze and the others were moved. Though they couldn’t help directly, Chen Yuze shared insider knowledge about the antiquities trade. His family hadn’t amassed their fortune without tricks of the trade, and he held nothing back.

The next morning, they woke groggily, nursing their hangovers. Lingzi’s father wanted to start another round of drinking, but they vehemently refused. Instead, Lingzi got down to business, presenting the processed serpent parts to her father. The moment he saw them, alcohol was forgotten—he grabbed his tools and got to work.

Curious, Chen Yuze and the others asked to observe. Lingzi and her father didn’t mind teaching. They explained the intricacies: the tail hide, with its fine, dense scales, was perfect for flexible joint armor. The thicker, larger scales near the head? Ideal for exterior plating—durable and damage-resistant.

For the first time, Chen Yuze realized just how much craftsmanship went into this trade.