Chapter 16 — ILK Chapter 16

Butter and Garlic Bread

"What is this? I’ve never seen anything like it!"

The Sentinels were buzzing with discussion.

"Is this a newly developed nutrient solution? Or a healing agent?"

"Wait, that’s not right. How can you sense mental energy before you've even drunk a nutrient solution?"

The aroma of savory beef intensified as the noodles steeped in the hot water, and the chatter grew louder, reaching a crescendo the moment the lids were peeled back. The skeptical murmurs turned into collective gasps of wonder. The soldiers surged forward, greedily inhaling the scent of the instant noodles like a pack of wagging dogs.

Spiritual forms do not need to eat; they rely on the mental energy generated by their masters. But in the presence of these noodles—leaking actual mental energy—the creatures crowded around. They jumped, flew, perched on shoulders, or tugged at pant legs, all of them "feeding" greedily on the aromatic energy.

The Sentinels fell upon the food like starving tigers. They snatched the few forks Wu Huansheng had brought, nearly resorting to eating with their bare hands. Like piglets at a trough, they rapidly divided the meager portions of noodles among their large numbers. Even the ham was sliced in a frenzy—some nearly chewed the bones to splinters—not to mention the eggs, which they didn't even have time to fry.

Wu Huansheng and her team didn't get a single bite.

All one hundred packs were devoured, and the leftover sauce was mixed with water and swallowed until not a drop remained. Those with minor injuries noticed their spiritual forms becoming instantly more lively, as if they had just undergone a professional mental channeling. Even those with severe wounds felt their taut nerves relax significantly, allowing their spiritual forms a moment of respite to begin generating new energy within their mental landscapes.

Many sat down on the spot to rest after eating.

"General Wu, this is too delicious! What is it? How did you get it?" asked a young Sentinel. She still had some baby fat on her cheeks and had been staring intently at the supplies from the very beginning.

Seeing a Sentinel exiled to Black Tower at such a young age always brought a twinge of pain to Wu Huansheng’s heart. Her grandmother had often scolded her, saying this "compassion" made her an unfit heir.

She replied, "This is a new mental channeling method being tested by the Empire's newly assigned Guide. I was supposed to test it on myself first, but it seems everyone finds it acceptable, and the results are quite good."

"Who is this Guide?"

"Can she come here to our station?"

"Can she make more of this?"

The questions came thick and fast. With other Generals, they might not have dared to ask, but Wu Huansheng was known for being lenient with her subordinates despite her famous temper.

Wu Huansheng pondered. "The Snow Mountain channel is heavily interfered with by the ore veins; external communication is difficult. I’ll try to contact the base over the next few days to see if she can make more and have it shipped. If I can't get through, we'll have to wait until the next rotation when some of you return with me to transport more supplies."

"Heh, we really got lucky," the young girl said with a crescent-moon smile. She looked at the last thin slice of ham in her hand, an unreadable emotion flickering in her eyes.

Sang Ye had no idea what a sensation her noodles had caused in the Snow Mountain; she was currently entertaining a tiny guest.

With the help of a domestic robot, Wu Jianing was practicing her walking. She had progressed from ten minutes to longer sessions, her gait becoming steadier. Sometimes she could even walk for a while without the robot’s support. On this day, accompanied by an adjutant and the robot, she made her way to Sang Ye’s "territory."

Sang Ye was in the small garden, tending to her precious seasoning seeds. In just two days, the rice and vegetables in her pocket dimension had already completed a harvest cycle, but the garden outside hadn't even sprouted yet. This was simply the speed of natural growth; the dimension was an outlier.

The base didn't have natural rainfall, so Sang Ye had just connected a hose and was watering the garden with the robot.

"Sister, what are you doing?" Wu Jianing’s voice chirped from behind.

Sang Ye turned to see Jianing standing firmly at the edge of the plot, craning her neck to look at the sudden patch of earth.

"What is this?" she asked. Growing up in the base, she had never seen plants or animals. Many planets used high-cost bio-engineered flora for landscaping, but no one bothered to "green" a mining planet like Black Tower.

"This is soil," Sang Ye replied. "I've planted some seeds inside. I'm waiting for them to sprout and grow."

The terms Sang Ye used were entirely foreign to Jianing. The adjutant, however, knew what they were. She looked at Sang Ye with surprise, wondering how she had acquired such expensive items. A Guide’s salary wasn't that high, was it?

"Have you eaten yet?" Sang Ye knelt down and asked with a smile. Watching Jianing walk on the legs she had helped heal gave her an incomparable sense of achievement.

Jianing shook her head.

"Then how about I make you some Garlic Bread?" Sang Ye wiped her hands and gently tapped the girl’s thin cheek with the back of her hand.

"What's garlic bread? I want it!" At the word "eat," Jianing’s eyes lit up. She knew this "Sister's" creations were far better than nutrient solutions.

Sang Ye had found the term "bread" in her archives. After researching the method, she realized it was similar to steamed buns (Mantou or Baozi), just with different fermentation and baking techniques. Like buns, it could be vacuum-packed for long-term storage, but because it contained large amounts of butter and sugar, the texture was much better and easier to swallow. It was said that steamed buns could choke you, but you rarely heard of bread doing the same.

Even if Jianing hadn't come today, Sang Ye had planned to make it. The adjutant had brought the girl out for a stroll during a work break, not expecting her to refuse to leave.

"You go back first, I’ll go home on my own after I eat," Jianing said, climbing onto a high stool in the kitchen with the air of someone who had no intention of moving. The adjutant had no choice but to leave and return later.

Bread requires butter, which adds immense flavor. Sang Ye had never made it before, but she found the recipe in the records easily. Yesterday, she had prepared "skim milk." By heating ordinary milk until the fat layer floated to the top, freezing it, and then skimming off the pale yellow fat to be whipped into an oil-water separation state, she obtained butter.

She delegated the whipping to the robot. She had modified one of its arms into a whisk shape. While the robot separated the butter, Sang Ye mixed flour, milk, eggs, and a spoonful of sugar, calling out an Enzyme Fairy to act as the yeast before beginning to knead. Once a "thick membrane" formed—meaning the dough didn't quite let light through when stretched—she set it aside to rest.

The robot finished the butter. She scooped out the fat solids, but there was one more step: squeezing the remaining water out through a mesh bag. She wrapped the resulting butter block in plastic wrap, shaped it into a square, and put it in the fridge to set. However, butter-making was a milk-heavy process; ten catties of milk only produced about a hundred grams of butter.

Sang Ye didn't waste the leftover skim milk; she used it for Egg and Milk Pudding, another dessert she had recently learned. Eggs were already rich, and skim milk allowed the pudding to set more easily than whole milk.

She added a slice of butter and a spoonful of salt to the dough and kneaded again, this time until a fine membrane formed. When stretched, the dough was translucent enough to see her fingers through it. Only then was the dough ready for room-temperature fermentation.

Sang Ye observed that the biggest difference between a bun and bread was the gluten. Bread dough, enriched with ingredients, became elastic and smooth—much like how meat-balls need repeated pounding to become chewy. This gluten was the secret to bread's fluffy texture.

While the dough rose, she prepared the garlic spread: butter, minced garlic, scallions, and a pinch of salt mixed together. Simple.

She checked the dough after half an hour. Poking it left an indentation that slowly bounced back—perfect. She kneaded it again to smooth it out, then divided it into triangular strips. She rolled them up, slashed the tops with a knife, and squeezed the garlic sauce into the openings.

She preheated the oven to ensure even baking. During the wait, she prepared the puddings: whisked eggs, sugar, and skim milk, filtered through a mesh bag into "baking bowls." These bowls were part of a set she had found in her storage ring—square and bright red, like little stoves. They were a gift from a disciple named Rong Cheng, a master of fire control who could manage thirty pots at once in the Shifang Grotto kitchens.

She put the garlic bread and the puddings into the oven for twenty minutes.

Wu Jianing clutched her own little piece of play-dough and ran to the oven, staring intently at the bread. Inside, the dough seemed to "stretch" before puffing up with a poof.

"Wow!"

When the garlic bread was pulled out, the aroma was so intoxicating that Jianing followed Sang Ye’s every move. The freshly baked crust was crispy, the inside snow-white and soft. The emerald green of the scallions mixed with the golden yellow was a visual feast. The garlic sauce had melded with the bread, and the fats had soaked into the crust, leaving a faint, shimmering oil on the surface.

Sang Ye handed a specially made "giant" piece to Jianing—it was as big as the girl's face. After letting it cool for a moment, the caramelized crust was safe to touch. Jianing took an enthusiastic "Awoo" bite, right where the butter had soaked in.

CRUNCH. The creamy fragrance of the butter wrapped around the pungency of the garlic, hitting her taste buds. The sharpness of the garlic was strangely neutralized and tenderly embraced by the butter. The flavors didn't clash; they built upon each other in layers, leaving Jianing with a look of pure bliss. The combination of sugar, fat, and carbs brought the most primal and abundant satisfaction.

The pudding was soft and silky; a gentle press of the tongue sent it sliding down, leaving a lingering fragrance. Garlic bread was also easy to store; if it sat for too long, a minute or two in the oven would restore it.

As Sang Ye ate, she wondered if she could make more for Wu Huansheng to take on her next trip.

Ding!

Her terminal suddenly chimed. The details of the notification made Sang Ye stop chewing.