Starting from Robinson Crusoe-Chapter 28 - 11: Matchlock Gun

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Chapter 28: Chapter 11: Matchlock Gun

"The ’Cthulhu cheese’ completely shattered Chen Zhou’s beautiful fantasy about the provisions on the ship."

"As an ordinary member of a nation of foodies, he had experienced all kinds of cooking techniques such as frying, stir-frying, and steaming, tasted the salty freshness of his hometown dishes, felt the spicy fragrance of Sichuan cuisine, and also savored the light and mild flavors of Jiangnan cuisine."

"Although limited by his wallet, he hadn’t had the chance to appreciate luxurious dishes like Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, bird’s nest, or shark fin, but his palate had unknowingly been refined."

"He could accept takeout with heavy salt and oil, could accept unhygienic pre-made dishes from small workshops, could accept instant noodles nearing their expiration date, and even notorious Chinese dark cuisines like bullfrog hotpot, fertilized eggs, and sour bamboo shoot soup."

"But faced with this ’17th-century sailor’s meal’ that was atrocious in taste, texture, and appearance, he really couldn’t swallow it."

"At the same time, Chen Zhou couldn’t comprehend what kind of bizarre thought process European chefs had to turn normal ingredients into such a mess, it truly exceeded his understanding."

"To maintain his physical and mental health, and to take care of his taste buds, Chen Zhou had to find a way to make some slightly normal meals with limited ingredients."

"Back by the stove, he took off the lid, grasped the edge of the large cooking pot, and observed its interior under the lamp."

"As expected, the sailors had no good habit of washing the pot after meals."

"At the bottom of the black iron pot, some whitish food residues had accumulated and a sour stench filled the tightly sealed pot."

"Looking at the deep pot walls and the vomit-like leftover food, enduring the unbearable smell, he thought of how he had raided bird nests, eaten raw fish, swum naked, had diarrhea, and gotten drenched in rain today..."

"After doing so many things, there were twists and turns, and nothing went smoothly."

"Finally reaching the kitchen, lighting the lamp, wanting to cook some food, he still had to clean up the mess for this group of unlucky dead souls."

"’Damn it, I’m really at my limit,’"

"Squeezing out a curse through his teeth, Chen Zhou could almost no longer hold back the resentment boiling in his chest."

"He really wanted to yank down this broken pot, smash it to pieces, and throw it into the sea, then empty his mind, do nothing, think nothing, and just lie in bed until the next morning."

"But he couldn’t be willful."

"Here, no one would bear the consequences for his mistakes; every choice carries a corresponding result."

"For Chen Zhou, this kind of oppressive feeling, with no room for error and no outlet for venting, was the most terrifying."

"No longer having relatives or friends to back him up, offering another path, only harsh reality, heavy responsibility, and calm decisions."

"No matter how angry or sad and frustrated he felt, he had to force himself to stay calm."

"Because this is survival, not a game."

"Taking a deep breath, Chen Zhou calmed himself."

"’There’s no need to get angry over trivial matters."

"People need to eat to survive; you can’t skip a meal forever. With the next twenty-odd days likely to be spent on this ship, you can’t live on air.’"

"After a moment, he slightly calmed his turbulent emotions, and with remaining discontent, he angrily searched for tools to clean the pot."

"Carrying the oil lamp, he heavily placed an empty wooden bucket he brought from the draining room on the ground, scooped several ladles of algae water into the pot, stirred vigorously a few times, rinsed the bottom of the pot, broke up the leftover food, and poured these nauseating substances into the bucket, completing the first step of cleaning the pot."

"Afterwards, Chen Zhou took an empty burlap bag, rolled it into a ball, and vigorously scrubbed away the solidified grease on the pot walls until the inside of the iron pot gleamed with a metallic sheen, reflecting the flickering flames."

"Although this crude cleaning method couldn’t kill the bacteria lurking in the pot, at least it was visually satisfying."

"Not long ago, he had mocked sailors for using small pieces of silver to purify large barrels of water as self-deception, and now he found himself doing a similar thing."

"To this, Chen Zhou could only shake his head and offer a helpless bitter smile."

"The iron pot, cleaned to this extent, was barely usable. Next step, lighting the fire."

"There was plenty of wood stored inside the ship, but most of it was neatly shaped and non-rotting planks, they were high-quality building materials crafted bit by bit by carpenters with long saws and planes, ready to repair the damaged ship’s walls, also transportable to the island in the future to build wooden houses, and Chen Zhou was reluctant to burn them as firewood."

"After searching around, he picked a broken table, some rotten benches, and moved them to the kitchen, using a sledgehammer to break them into short wooden strips to stuff into the stove as fuel."

"The firewood was dry, and with a stable ignition source, starting a fire became much easier."

"Sitting by the oil lamp, using a small grease-dipped wooden stick as kindling, he only tried three times, and the flames successfully ignited under the stove."

"The bright red flame licked the bottom of the pot, illuminating the whole kitchen brightly, warming Chen Zhou’s face intensely, and his heart felt soothed."

"The big dog, after filling its belly, panting with its tongue out, walked over and sat down, curiously watching Chen Zhou."

"With a casual rub of the dog’s head, Chen Zhou took a large mug from the wooden rack, poured three cups of water into the pot, covered it, opened his coat, exposed his chest, and relaxedly warmed himself by the fire."

"The fire blazed robustly, the heat waves gently caressed Chen Zhou’s cheeks, making him drowsy." 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"The water quickly heated up, playing a bubbling melody in the pot, eventually boiling, but with a softer sound."

"Closing his coat, lifting the lid."

"White steam rose under the kitchen ceiling, giving the glow of the oil lamp a fuzzy edge."

"Chen Zhou tore the round cake into pieces, slowly tossed them into the pot, watching these solid guys float and sink in the boiling water, soften, and finally turn into a batter floating on the surface, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction, like justice being served."