Durian When Sang Ye woke up, the West Building was quiet. Du Yuan had left breakfast for her in the kitchen before taking Wu Jianing out to walk the "four sisters"—the three puppies and the kitten.
Sang Ye took a bite of a steamed bun and fried some dough sticks for herself. She mused that Du Yuan seemed to have a natural talent for "picking up children." First it was Wu Jianing, and soon there would be the twins. There was always a child around for her to dote on.
Lin Changli had placed cans of goat milk powder everywhere in the house—kitchen cabinets, the living room table, their bedroom, and the nursery—fearing the little ones might go hungry for even a second.
Just as she finished breakfast, a sleepy Jiang Siwei walked in, struggling to carry several large, thorny, alien-looking objects wrapped in cloth.
"What are these?" Jiang Siwei set them on the kitchen island. "The folks from Amori Island just sent them to the base warehouse. I saw them and thought they looked fun, so I brought some over. But man... the smell. It gets weirder the more you sniff it."
Sang Ye looked at them and grinned. "These are called Durians."
"Durian? Food? You can eat this?" Jiang Siwei poked at the spikes. "How do you even get inside? And the smell is... intense."
The Merfolk of Amori Island likely didn't know what to do with them, which is why they were sent to the base.
"It's a fruit. It's 'stinky,' so some people can't stand it," Sang Ye explained as she cleared the table. These were a variety she had transplanted from her dimension; the tropical climate of Amori Island was perfect for them, though she hadn't expected them to bear fruit so quickly.
Sang Ye grabbed a knife. She found the natural seam at the bottom of the fruit and pried the hard, spiked shell open, revealing the creamy, bright yellow flesh inside. The pungent aroma immediately flooded the room.
"Ugh—" Jiang Siwei gagged and scurried away. "What is that smell? Are you sure it's edible?"
Sang Ye didn't find it that bad. To her, durian was like nature’s custard cake. She particularly loved the "Dry Bag" variety—dry on the outside but soft and silky on the inside, with a sweet flavor and a hint of alcohol.
She popped a piece into her mouth, the rich, creamy flavor washing over her taste buds. To some, it tastes like onions and garlic; to others, it's like honeyed milk.
Jiang Siwei approached with her nose pinched, curiosity getting the better of her. Sang Ye handed her a piece. Jiang Siwei took a deep breath of courage—inhaling a lungful of durian scent in the process—and bit down.
One bite was all it took. Her eyes widened. "Oh... it's like a fruit cake with thick cream." She finished the whole piece in seconds. Suddenly, the lingering smell in the kitchen wasn't so offensive anymore; it was actually quite addictive.
"Eww—!" A long, dramatic cry echoed from the doorway.
Wu Jianing stood there, hands covering her nose, flanked by the puppies and kitten. All five of them refused to cross the threshold.
"Who went potty in the kitchen!" the little girl accused, her voice muffled. The cats and dogs, with their sensitive noses, circled the door twice before abandoning Jianing and fleeing back to their nests under the osmanthus trees.
Du Yuan laughed, carrying Jianing inside. "One bite and you'll understand."
"Eat what?!" The girl looked horrified. The adults burst into laughter.
"It's durian, you little silly," Du Yuan cooed, sitting her on a high stool. Jianing tentatively tried a piece and was instantly captured by the flavor.
"I will say," Du Yuan remarked between bites, "I'm glad you didn't plant these in the back garden, or I would have thrown you and the trees out together."
Sang Ye smiled. Durian needed the ventilation of Amori Island to grow properly. She and Du Yuan shared a brief, melancholy moment thinking about their lost sect members. Jiang Siwei offered to help look for them through her family's vast shipping routes, a gesture Sang Ye appreciated, even if the odds were slim.
…
Sang Ye packed the rest of the durian for the robots to distribute throughout the base. Soon, the "stink" was everywhere. Some loved it; others turned their ventilation systems to the maximum.
Since the kitchen already smelled of durian, Sang Ye decided to lean into it. "Let's make Luosifen (Snail Rice Noodles) for lunch."
Jiang Siwei and Wu Jianing looked lost. But when Du Yuan pulled out the jar of pickled bamboo shoots—the soul of Luosifen—and opened it, the sour, pungent smell expanded, briefly overpowering the durian.
The two younger ones fled the kitchen again, huddling with the pets under the trees.
"I'm telling you, sister, her cooking is amazing... much better than the instant noodles in the Capital..."
Melusine’s voice stopped abruptly as she entered the courtyard with a tall woman. Melusine twitched her elegant nose, her face twisting in shock. She locked eyes with the two people crouching by the dog house. The puppies were currently huddled in the kitten's nest, paws over their noses.
"Melusine! You're here?" Sang Ye emerged, holding the jar of bamboo shoots.
Melusine wanted to run. But as she turned, a robot arrived with a plate of freshly peeled durian, cutting off her escape. She buried her face in the tall woman's chest. "Sister, save me!"
But her sister—Bertha Caylen, the botanist who had come to study the herbs—sniffed the air and uttered a sentence that filled Melusine with despair:
"There’s no bad smell. It actually smells quite fragrant to me."
Melusine looked up in horror. At that moment, she missed her mother, Vera Caylen, who would have unconditionally agreed with her.
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