Chapter 21 — ILK Chapter 21

Roasted Duck Sauce

The young woman standing beside the adjutant was named Jiang Siwei, and she was 15 years old. She had come to Black Tower to visit her brother, Jiang Sili.

Jiang Sili was the S-rank General in charge of overseeing the top floor of the hospital, and his life story was nothing short of "legendary." Born into a wealthy commoner family of merchants with no history of spiritual awakening, he became the first in his lineage to manifest. After awakening the S-rank Ancient spiritual form Tengshe (Soaring Serpent), he was scouted by the Imperial Military Academy. However, after graduation, he rebelled, joined a band of space pirates, and spent centuries wandering the stars—only to be welcomed back by the Empire after accidentally crushing a Zerg hive that was harassing the border. He rose to the rank of General after helping the Empire complete several successful expeditions. When his Tengshe began to riot, he left the army and wandered aimlessly until General Asu Ment, unable to suppress the rioting Sentinels alone, asked her old friend to settle on Black Tower.

By the time Jiang Siwei was born, her brother had already lived on Black Tower for decades. As their parents aged, the task of visiting him fell to her. Her parents weren't worried; the Zerg were dormant several systems away, and as a Guide, even space pirates wouldn't harm a hair on her head—especially with such a famous brother. Among the Sentinels on Black Tower, Jiang Sili’s stability was the best controlled; he was naturally optimistic and open-minded. However, since there was no known channeling method for Ancient spiritual forms, his eventual collapse was only a matter of time.

Jiang Siwei was about to enter the Military Academy. During this visit, she heard about a Guide with unique mental channeling methods and asked the adjutant to bring her along.

Sang Ye scratched her head and, feeling a bit helpless, handed them both a cup of Osmanthus Roasted Milk to try. Jiang Siwei took only one sip before her mind was flooded with mental energy. The roasted milk was richer than ordinary milk; the heat had infused the fragrance of the dried osmanthus and sugar deep into the liquid, warming her entire body. Subtle pulses of mental energy flowed through her like a soft brush stroking her scalp—it was exceptionally comfortable.

"The Jiang family started in small convenience stores, but now they own the largest chain of shopping malls on the Capital Star," the adjutant whispered to Sang Ye. Their best-selling product was "Mental Soothing Agents," and they held a near-monopoly on the Capital Star.

Back when General Jiang Sili was still active in the military, the family operated several freight routes across different systems, accumulating massive wealth. After the General left the army—retaining his title but no longer holding a command—the family realized they had no other high-ranking officials or new Sentinels/Guides. To ensure their safety, they returned all but one freight route to the Empire. That remaining route, protected by Jiang Sili’s former subordinates, allowed their soothing agents to reach a global market. Since then, the family had invested in various industries with mixed success.

But with Jiang Siwei’s birth, everything would change. A Guide could bring more benefits to a family than a Sentinel of the same rank. With her brother's lingering influence, her future was brilliant.

Sang Ye listened, marveling at how there was always a tide of profit and power plays wherever people gathered. Her focus, however, remained on the "Capital Star's largest shopping mall."

Back in her world, Shifang Grotto had a similar strategy. Their restaurants made massive quantities of buns, rolls, and snacks to be sold through smaller stalls and breakfast shops. The profits were split 70/30 after costs—and costs were negligible besides labor. This consignment model expanded their fame and relieved the pressure on the restaurants while providing a livelihood for commoners beyond farming.

As Sang Ye pondered this, Jiang Siwei finished her milk and looked at Sang Ye with anticipation.

Sang Ye smiled. "The roasted duck is almost ready. Would you like some?"

Jiang Siwei had never eaten roasted duck, but the aroma was already making her mouth water. The robots stayed by the oven, turning the ducks to ensure even heat. The fat rendered from the skin dripped onto the burning lychee wood with a sizzle, fueling the flames further. The scent of roasting fat mixed with the fruity lychee wood was a potent stimulus to the senses.

Sang Ye stepped to the side of the oven and pulled it open. Once the first wave of scalding air passed, she revealed the caramel-honey-colored ducks, their skins glistening and crisp. She took a bowl of honey water and used a brush to apply one last glaze. The brush made a distinct scritch-scratch sound against the skin; if one were to poke it now, the surface would shatter into delicate fine lines. After the final glaze, they needed thirty more minutes.

When the ducks finally came out, she made a small incision in the belly, catching the juices in a basin. The cavity was filled with a steaming "Duck Belly Soup" that had been infused with fat, aromatics, and apples. Using this belly soup to make the sauce is the secret to the flavor.

Sang Ye’s roasted duck was the Jinling style (Nanjing style), not the Yanjing (Beijing style) style that became famous after being modified for the capital. It didn't involve slicing the skin or using wraps; instead, it was served chopped and drenched in a secret sauce.

She mixed star anise, cinnamon, fennel, licorice, cloves, cardamom, and rose salt in precise ratios, adding a bit of rock sugar and Sichuan peppercorns. She caramelized the sugar in oil, added the duck belly soup, and brought it to a boil with the spices. After straining the solids through gauze, the Roasted Duck Sauce was complete. She didn't over-season it, letting the "original soup digest the original food"—a light touch that brought out the mellow essence of the duck.

As the blade sank into the plump duck on the table, oil splattered out with a pffft against the knife edge. Beneath the crispy caramel skin was a centimeter-thick layer of fat, followed by three to four centimeters of meat—the perfect definition of a "fat and sturdy" duck.

While Yanjing duck is sliced into crescent moon shapes and wrapped in thin skins with cucumber and sweet bean sauce, Jinling duck is simply chopped into chunks. The front portions are skin-heavy and fatty with bones that fall away; the back portions are lean and chewy, though the leg bones can sometimes splinter into the meat. Drenched in the sauce, even the thickest meat never felt dry.

The sauce could also be used for noodles. Blanch a few heads of greens, lay them over noodles, pour the duck sauce over it, and finish with scallions.

As the meal was served, Sang Ye felt as if her place was turning into a busy tavern. The duck, fresh from her dimension, even showed a faint rainbow-like shimmer on the meat.

Sang Ye had wondered how to broach a business deal with Jiang Siwei, but the young woman was already ahead of her. After finishing her meal, she asked about the shelf life of the products, whether they could be preserved long-term, and if Sang Ye could produce them in bulk. Born into a merchant family, Jiang Siwei’s mind worked like a precision instrument, already calculating potential profits.

Sang Ye shared her vision. Items like roasted duck and fresh noodles were hard to preserve; noodles would clump together once cooked. Furthermore, dishes requiring specialized tools weren't yet suitable for the general public. However, Sang Ye could provide raw materials and semi-processed goods: instant noodles, sauce packs, brine, dried fruit, and milk.

If Jiang Siwei was willing, Sang Ye could pack a batch for her to take back and test in her family's malls. She also needed Jiang Siwei to test the shelf life and see if the Capital Star had better preservation technology.

If my food actually sells, Sang Ye thought, I can find a way to mass-produce. I’ll keep the recipes and raw materials, use factories for processing, and put it on the market. With enough volume, the sales will be staggering. This was the "factory model" she had seen in her research. In the Interstellar world, this was how the Jiang family controlled costs and achieved massive profits with their soothing agents.

Acting on merchant instinct, Jiang Siwei immediately offered to buy out Sang Ye's "recipes," especially for the instant noodles and sauces. She understood the parallel between food and pharmaceuticals—without specialized materials, the recipe was everything.

Sang Ye shook her head and smiled. "The recipes aren't secrets; they are recorded in ancient texts on the Star Net. They aren't worth much. But the materials only I have. Even with the recipe, it won't do you any good."

Jiang Siwei frowned, not understanding. In her mind, how could a B-rank Guide with no background possess materials so rare they couldn't be found elsewhere? Sang Ye didn't intend to explain her pocket dimension.

"I will prepare 100 portions of instant noodles and sauce for you to take back for free," Sang Ye said. "You can try selling them and see what the demand and pricing look like. If they sell well, then we can talk business."