Chapter 1599 - 1570: What Heavenly Delicacy Is This?

After settling the experts who’d just arrived, even though it was past her bedtime, Arden somehow felt wide awake. She went back to the bedroom, picked up the proposal she hadn’t finished that afternoon, and continued writing.

Marcus Quinn came in with a glass of water and saw her sitting on the bed, head bowed, scribbling away. Her long hair was casually tied up in a little bun, with wispy strands falling over her forehead, making her face look even smaller and paler.

"Marcus, I want juice." Sensing he was nearby, Arden kept racking her brain while reaching out to tug at his shirt, staring up at him imploringly.

"You’ve already had six glasses today." Marcus’s voice dropped slightly. Arden was great in every way, except her self-control wasn’t the best—if she liked something, she’d keep eating it until she was sick of it. Before, she’d gone crazy over honey grapefruit tea; she drank so much that during her period she not only had a cold womb, her chest hurt as well, and she couldn’t have much honey. Only then did Marcus switch her to other fruit juices.

"Last glass?" Arden blinked, putting on her sweetest act.

The man looked at her cute, coaxing expression, his face outwardly composed, but his brain was already pudding. All he could think was: she’s so adorable, I want to hug her.

"Mm." He cleared his throat lightly, said nothing, and walked out to make her fruit tea.

Seeing him leave, Arden bit her lip. Earlier that day Auntie Shui had asked when she and Marcus were going to get their marriage certificate, and she actually couldn’t answer.

They’d been sharing a room for three months now, except every night she slept in the bed and Marcus slept on the floor. Things between them were purer than plain water, but outsiders didn’t know that. No wonder Uncle Shui’s family worried about it. It was just... she really couldn’t go and ask Marcus, "So when are we getting our certificate?"

Three months, and the most Marcus ever did was hold her hand, pat her head. He didn’t seem to have the slightest interest in her. Arden couldn’t help wondering: was it that she had no charm, or was Marcus... not up to it?

The minute she thought he might not be up to it, Arden’s face flushed. She couldn’t help imagining his lean, long body when he took off his clothes, all hard muscle, so strong—there was no way he wasn’t up to it. So it had to be that she had no charm.

Arden sighed. Ugh, what a headache.

When Marcus came back, the little girl had already sprawled out on the bed and fallen asleep in that short span of time. He set the juice to the side, pulled the covers over her, and gently rubbed her soft, pale cheek for a long moment before finally turning off the light and going to sleep.

Early the next morning, just as the sky was getting light, people at the Holiday Village began getting up one after another and throwing themselves into the new day.

Old folks sleep less. When Marcus left the manor for the canteen, he saw Old Weng, Oliver Zolotov, and the others coming back from the direction of the orchard, carrying oranges and apples, happily greeting the villagers who’d gotten up early to work.

The three little old men were strolling around the village, looking completely in their element and having a great time. Marcus relaxed and went to the canteen to heat up the pig trotters. He saw Auntie Shui had already started on breakfast. With so many people—Irving Spencer and his wife were coming too—she’d deliberately added more dishes.

He hadn’t forgotten that Arden wanted golden thread fish. Among the fish caught this time, golden thread fish were the smallest. He picked out three medium-sized ones and steamed them, then butchered two more and simmered them into a lightly milky fish broth. In the morning he rolled out dough sheets and made sour fish noodles.

By the time he finished all this, villagers were already stopping by to say hello before heading up the mountain to pick ugly oranges for shipping.

Two young lads, Wang Gang and Calvin Zamora, also came over bright and early to sell pig trotters.

When Arden arrived at the canteen, she saw Old Weng and the others, along with the two teens, each holding a bowl and a pair of chopsticks, staring longingly toward the kitchen.

A faint fish fragrance wafted out—not spicy, not pickled greens—just pure, authentic fish aroma drifting through the air.

"It’s coming, it’s coming." Old Weng was practically vibrating with excitement as Marcus brought out two plates of steamed fish. Each oval platter held a golden, glistening fish; the aroma of sesame oil and soy sauce mixed with the fish scent and slipped right into everyone’s noses.

"Quick, this is golden thread fish, a Treasure you can only get at state banquets. Steaming is best; it draws out the unique flavor of the fish. This fish is a health-preserving fish." Old Zhou was still lecturing away, while Old Weng and Old Jiang from the Academy of Sciences had already darted to the table and started eating.

"You people are chewing peonies like cows." Old Zhou realized he’d only said a couple of sentences and half the fish was gone. He was so furious he cursed, "Heartless! Absolutely heartless!"

Arden couldn’t help but laugh. It’s just two fish; was that really necessary?

Auntie Shui ladled a bowl of sour fish noodles for everyone, brought them out on a tray, and said with a smile, "Leaders, there’s more in the kitchen. These sour fish noodles are Marcus’s doing; everyone gets some. And we’ve got rustic coarse-grain pancakes—plenty for breakfast."

The sour fish noodles were set down: creamy white fish broth, springy noodles, thin shreds of fish, bright green scallions, plus a little dish of homemade chili sauce on the side—it was enough to make your stomach growl just from the smell.

Arden took one look and instantly felt her cravings surge. Then she saw Marcus bring out a separate bowl of noodles and a plate of steamed fish, plus a dish of chili sauce and a dish of pickled radish, set them on another table, and call her over for breakfast.

Old Zhou and the others had nearly come to blows over half a fish. Seeing that Quinn Family boy blatantly set a whole plate in front of his own wife, they all clutched their chests in agony.

Protective brat. Not cute at all.

"Eat with me, I can’t finish it." Arden saw Marcus had specially brought her a separate breakfast, her big dewy eyes sparkling, and she reached out to grab him.

"Mm, I’ll go get myself some noodles."

No matter how much Marcus made, the noodles still weren’t enough. After all, there were more than ten people, plus the two village teens, so everyone was basically only half full. Once they finished the noodles, they drained the fish broth to the last drop.

The three elderly experts watched helplessly as the two village boys practically licked the steamed fish plates clean, sighing and rubbing their bellies. They still hadn’t had enough, but they couldn’t exactly wrestle fish away from the kids.

Looked like they really needed to get on Marcus’s good side—ideally, have him as a son.

"Having tasted golden thread fish, I can die without regrets." Old Zhou managed to snatch three chopsticks’ worth of fish in the end. After eating, he burst into hearty laughter.

"Old Jiang, you don’t regret coming with us, do you? You remember Old Quinn’s cooking back in the day—no one but Marcus can recreate that taste." Old Weng, feeling utterly relaxed, his whole body buzzing with energy, thumped Old Jiang’s shoulder and grinned, fishing for praise.

"Oh, please. If I hadn’t recognized this fish, would you two even be here eating such a Treasure?" Old Zhou shot back.

Old Jiang had never felt his mind so clear and comfortable. That morning he’d gone to the orchard with the other two, and on the way back his old cold legs had started aching and swelling. He hadn’t expected that after eating, his whole body would feel great. Chuckling, he said, "You two, stop bickering. After tasting something this delicious, if you can’t have it again later, isn’t that one of life’s great sufferings?"

The two of them froze. He had a point. This golden thread fish was precious—once they left the Holiday Village, they wouldn’t get to eat it, much less golden thread fish cooked by Marcus.

Arden saw the three old guys huddle up again, muttering among themselves. Once Marcus came over with a bowl of noodles and a plate of pan-fried dumplings, the two of them finally sat down together and started breakfast.

She took a sip of the fish broth first and instantly had no idea how to describe it. It was unbelievably fresh, with a delicate aroma beneath the freshness, and not a single bone in the fish meat. Because the fish was so tender, by the end of the simmering there was very little solid fish left; most had melted into the broth. With that one mouthful, Arden felt her stomach warm right up.

What kind of divine delicacy was this? Ugh, she absolutely had to marry Marcus!