He stared at Old Li’s back for a few seconds, his gaze sharp as a knife.

Then, he suddenly bent over, grabbed the mushrooms on the stone with a rough hand, rinsed them twice in the bucket, and shook off the water.

"Fine! Fine!" he almost gritted his teeth, his voice rising an octave, with a kind of defiance, "Good stuff won’t go unrecognized! I’ll do it myself! I’ll eat it myself! No need for your chef skills!"

Everyone else in the camp stopped what they were doing, glancing over either openly or covertly.

The air froze instantly, leaving only the sound of water boiling in the pot and Old Zhang’s heavy breathing.

Old Zhang didn’t look at anyone; he pulled out a small outdoor pot and stove from his car, slapped it down far from the big pot.

His movements were quick and forceful, with a bit of aggression.

He skillfully lit the stove, poured in some oil he brought himself, and dumped the barely washed mushrooms into the small pot all at once. "Sizzle," the oil splattered everywhere.

Throughout the process, no one spoke.

Qi Shunyi was checking the vehicle tires, turned sideways as if he hadn’t seen what happened.

To be honest, everyone was an adult and should be responsible for their choices. However, Qi Shunyi thought since Old Zhang was so confident, the mushrooms were probably fine, and maybe Li Younan was wrong... Li Younan was young, how could he know better than Old Zhang? 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

The other team members showed different expressions.

Someone pretended to focus on organizing their backpack straps.

Someone exchanged a look with a mix of curiosity, a trace of amusement, perhaps a subtle hint of worry.

Someone simply turned away to avoid eye contact.

The focus was no longer on the mushrooms themselves, but on Old Zhang’s almost self-destructive act of "proving himself innocent," and the chain reaction caused by the meddlesome Li Younan.

Li Younan could clearly feel a few glances intentionally or unintentionally fall on him.

If Old Zhang ate without issue, his warning yesterday would be seen as "pretending to understand" and "exaggerating the danger," completely offending Old Zhang.

Ma Jing came over and lightly punched him, a hint of schadenfreude in her eyes, as if saying, "Let’s see what you do."

Li Younan gave a silent laugh... human nature.

But in his heart, Li Younan was unusually calm, almost indifferent.

Watching Old Zhang hunch over the small pot, focused—or rather angry—flipping those gray-brown mushrooms, with a smell that’s neither pleasant nor unpleasant wafting, his only thought was... safety.

Old Zhang’s pride, others’ opinions of him, these were as light as a feather when faced with potential poisoning risks.

He didn’t even bother arguing anymore; he had already said what he needed to yesterday.

He turned around, continuing to check the tire pressure and fluid of his vehicle, his actions steady as if the scene of spiteful cooking had nothing to do with him.

Old Zhang’s solitary meal was soon done.

He picked up a few limp mushrooms with chopsticks, blew on them, then, with a sort of provocative look, glanced around the camp, deliberately avoiding Li Younan, and shoved them into his mouth, chewing loudly.

"Mmm! Fresh!" he said loudly and indistinctly.

He picked up a few more, handing them to a teammate he was somewhat familiar with, "Here, Old Liu, try them! Good stuff!"

The teammate named Old Liu forced a very reluctant smile, shaking his head repeatedly, slightly leaning back, "No, no, Old Zhang, my... my stomach’s not too good this morning, you enjoy them yourself, enjoy them!"

Old Zhang snorted but didn’t insist, simply ate up all the mushrooms in the small pot himself, leaving no soup.

After eating, he put the small pot aside, wiped his mouth, deliberately making a loud noise, then stood up and began packing his stove, actions still carrying that lingering anger.

The rest of the camp members, including the leader, Old Chen, tacitly sped up their packing.

No one talked about those mushrooms anymore, nor did anyone mention last night’s argument.

Everyone quietly loaded their luggage into the cars and started the engines.

The roar of the engines temporarily broke that awkward silence.

...

The convoy got back on the road, heading deeper into the mountains.

Li Younan sat in the driver’s seat, looking at the winding mountain road ahead.

In the rearview mirror, he could see Old Zhang’s car following closely behind, his facial expression seemed unchanged, but the knuckles gripping the steering wheel were a bit white.

The team atmosphere had grown somewhat sullen, the prior lightheartedness completely gone, replaced by an invisible barrier and cautious avoidance.

Li Younan was well aware that those clever teammates had probably already placed their bets in their minds, waiting to see the outcome of this gamble—whether Old Zhang’s iron stomach would prove his experience, or if his own "nosiness" would ultimately be justified.

To Li Younan, the result was no longer important.

Only, at a bumpy corner, he inadvertently glanced at the rearview mirror, still feeling a difficult-to-describe heaviness overcome him, and he sighed slightly.

...

The convoy left Wanba Town camp, moving back onto the winding mountain dirt road.

Li Younan deliberately stayed towards the front of the convoy, closely following the lead vehicle of Old Chen, but maintained a slower speed than usual.

The bumpy mountain road made this low-speed drive uncomfortable for the cars behind.

The walkie-talkie soon carried Old Zhang’s voice, restrained with irritation, "What’s going on up front? Why are you going so slow? We’re on the move!" His tone carried unresolved resentment and impatience from the slow pace.