Culinary God in Wilderness

Chapter 376: Chapter 237: Bountiful Catch (Part 2)

[Successfully crafted a running-water bathtub on the beach in Panama. Happiness +2]

After reconnecting the stream to the tub, he stared at the slowly rising water, unable to suppress his excitement. He set the camera aside, stripped off his clothes, and stepped in.

Although the nights on the tropical beach weren’t cold, the stream water flowing down from the mountain felt icy. The moment his feet touched it, an involuntary shiver ran through his body.

Fortunately, the water level rose gradually, so once he got used to the temperature, he didn’t feel the need to jump out from the cold again.

"Your body temperature is at its highest right after hard labor. It’s best not to douse yourself with cold water at a time like this, as it can easily cause vasospasms or even cardiac arrest. It can be fatal. If you don’t have a high tolerance for this, absolutely do not imitate what I’m doing."

Although he wasn’t on camera, his voice was still being recorded.

At five-foot-eleven, he only needed to bend his knees slightly to submerge his entire body up to his neck.

The feeling of being enveloped in fresh water was something seawater could never compare to. The cool stream caressed every inch of his skin, and all his pores seemed to cry out in joyous celebration.

Even though he hadn’t done anything yet, he had the distinct feeling that all the grime on his body was being washed away.

He squinted his eyes in comfort, leaning his whole body back against the bamboo wall.

[Enjoying a refreshing bath on the beach in Panama. Happiness +1]

After his bath, he also gave his clothes a quick scrub and hung them by the charcoal fire to dry.

"Washing with just plain water only does so much. Looks like I’ll have to make a trip over to the soapnut tree tomorrow. I really need some soap."

He’d scored three free happiness points just from taking a bath. Outwardly, he was expressionless, but inside, he was bursting with joy.

"Building up basic infrastructure really is important. After all, people are born to enjoy life. Happiness is definitely tied to your level of comfort."

He hadn’t even exerted himself that much, but after the bath, he felt incredibly hungry. It was the same ravenous, stomach-gnawing hunger he’d felt after emerging from the sea in the middle of the night—so hungry he could eat a whole cow right then and there.

First, he put a piece of smoked venison on to roast. Then he selected a moderately sized dried Flying Fish, skewered it on a branch, and set it up by the charcoal fire to smoke and heat through.

Before drying these Flying Fish, he had scored them with a dense, fine crosshatch pattern, afraid that the flesh would become too hard to cut after being dried.

He had intentionally dried the Flying Fish to two different levels: fully dried and semi-dried.

The fully dried ones were rock-hard, while the semi-dried ones had a texture somewhat like grilled mackerel—firm-fleshed but still retaining some moisture, which would prevent them from charring when heated.

Just as he’d suspected, after being scored, dried, and roasted, the tiny bones hidden within the fish’s muscle tissue were completely unnoticeable, blending in with the crispy skin.

He squeezed a little orange juice over it, then sprinkled on some dried chili flakes and sea salt. The flavor was surprisingly unique: a hint of spice within the sweet and sour, a savory umami flavor mixed with the fish’s natural aroma and the char from the fire. The skin and fins, in particular, were as crispy as potato chips.

After finishing one, he still felt a bit unsatisfied, so he roasted and ate another before contentedly cracking open a coconut to cleanse his palate.

Seeing the white flesh left inside the coconut shell, Lin Chen paused. As if remembering something, he rushed into his shelter and came back out with a long, thin, pointed piece of bamboo.

After splitting and washing it, he broke the empty coconut shell in half and, holding a sliver of the bamboo, gently scraped it against the tender white flesh.

Despite using hardly any force, a whole strip of coconut flesh came away with ease.

’It actually works?!’

The discovery invigorated him, and he continued to scrape out all the remaining flesh from the coconut shell.

Coconut flesh was arguably the only source of oil he had at the moment. He hadn’t tried to process it before mainly due to a lack of tools, and because he had more important things to do, so he’d just left it alone.

In this hot weather, an opened coconut would spoil in about a day and was impossible to preserve.

He piled the coconut flesh back into the shell, covered it, and secured it with bamboo strips before submerging the whole thing in the bottom of his bathtub to keep it fresh.

As long as it wasn’t exposed to the air, it would last much longer.

He then reattached the bamboo pipe above the tub to stop the stream from continuously flowing in. Only then did he put on his mostly dry clothes and head into the shelter with the fire starter to sleep.

...

"This sky... why is it so gloomy? Is it going to rain again?"

When he woke up the next day, he felt that the air was colder than usual.

He went outside and saw that the once-azure sky was now filled with clouds. It was a dull gray, but it didn’t look like the dark gray of storm clouds.

"Whatever. An overcast day is fine, it’ll be cooler."

He gave his face a quick wash and rushed straight to the seashore, not even bothering to eat.

It was low tide, so he could walk directly over the reef to the crevice where his bamboo raft was.

After several hours of being exposed to the wind, the surface of the reef was relatively dry and not as slippery as he’d imagined, but he still had to be extremely careful as he walked.

As he rounded the crevice in the rocks, he saw the bamboo-strip rope stretching far out, resting silently in a groove on a dark brown reef rock.

This stretch of reef was uneven and jagged. At low tide, the waterline receded about a hundred meters, not too far.

Only at low tide could he see the overall shape of the reef: an inverted triangle that grew wider the farther out to sea it went.

Where the shoreline met the reef, he could even see scattered patches of coral covering the rocks.

He walked cautiously toward the fish trap. As he got closer, his eyes lit up—he thought he could see some dark shapes trapped inside.

’There’s a catch!!’

He forced down his excitement and continued to watch his feet carefully, making sure every step landed on safe ground.

If it were high tide, it wouldn’t be this much trouble; he could just pull the trap back with the rope. But he couldn’t do that during low tide. The fish trap was woven from thin bamboo strips, after all, and could easily get damaged from being scraped and bumped against the reef.

When he reached it and lifted it, the trap felt heavy. There had to be at least five or six pounds of catch inside.

"One, two, three... eight blue crabs, and a big fish! Not bad, not bad. Let’s see who you are, fella."

The fish was pinned underneath several of the blue crabs, its upper body mostly obscured, with only half of its tail sticking out.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since the tide went out, but the fish was definitely dead. Fish usually couldn’t survive out of water for that long.

"Good thing I had the foresight to bring some bamboo strips."

He carried the fish trap back to the raft, untied the bamboo strip securing the entrance, reached in, and grabbed a blue crab. He tied it up completely with another bamboo strip before tossing it into his basket.

After all the blue crabs were dealt with, the big fish’s true form was finally revealed.

He grabbed it by the tail and lifted it into the air, staring at its round, plump head.

Its eyes were exceptionally round and jet-black, but now they had lost their liveliness, having grown dull and lifeless.

The most conspicuous feature was the three pairs of whiskers on either side of its mouth—one long and two short—arranged one above the other.

The moment he saw the longest pair of whiskers, a single word popped into his mind.

Catfish.

That’s right, the creature looked remarkably similar to a catfish.

’There are catfish in the ocean?’

Soon, knowledge related to Sea Catfish automatically surfaced from the depths of his mind.

He scanned past the detailed introduction—there was nothing worth reading there. His focus landed on their population, habits, and popularity.

"Sea Catfish are nocturnal, and their schools can range from dozens to over a hundred. They especially like to eat shellfish. The meat has few bones and is highly nutritious. It can reduce edema, treat indigestion, and stimulate appetite. It replenishes *qi*, acts as a diuretic, and nourishes *yin* and blood. It’s particularly suitable for nursing mothers to promote lactation, making it a top choice for postpartum recovery. Its nutritional value is comparable to shark fin and wild softshell turtle?"

"Holy cow, this ugly thing is that valuable? I remember catfish being pretty tasty, so this Sea Catfish must taste..."