Chapter 17
Jiang Jitang stood in the kitchen. He brought the water to a boil and placed an entire cleaned chicken inside.
When the water boiled, a greasy layer mixed with blood and fat surfaced. He skimmed it off with a ladle, took the chicken out for later use, and the prep work was done.
A castrated young rooster has tender, gelatin-rich meat. Stewed with durian husk until the bones soften and the flesh melts, a gentle tug is enough to separate meat from bone—the taste is heavenly. As for the durian flesh stuffed inside the chicken, it enhances the flavor and richness; if mashed before stuffing, it becomes even more fragrant.
Golden Eyes had already widened, with drool practically hanging from the corner of its eye.
While waiting, Jiang Jitang sat on a high stool in the kitchen. All clues were now pointing in one direction—this world was brewing a great catastrophe.
Whether it was the increasingly frequent “suicide incidents” or the game’s extremely high mortality rate, they all indicated ill intent from this Cube World.
Was he about to confront such a colossal monster?
“Slurp.” Golden Eyes’ saliva fell. The fragrance of durian chicken stew had started to spread, and it made little noises—chirping and whining as it wanted to clamber over.
He had always thought his master’s best trait was his ever-calm, rational mind. Only now did he realize—his greatest strength was also knowing good food, cooking good food, and indulging himself (and even undeserving him) with it.
Then why, in the previous lifetime, did his master only make those strangely flavored salads?
Inhaling the aroma from the simmering durian chicken, Jiang Jitang forced down a somewhat lackluster dinner. But by late-night snack time, the delicacy that had been simmering on low heat for four hours was finally ready to be served.
He lifted a chicken leg with chopsticks to share with Golden Eyes—but because the stew made the meat so tender, the bone separated from the meat with a light tug, sticky gelatin dripping down along the bone into the golden broth.
Golden Eyes could no longer hold back. Chomp—it devoured a quarter of the chicken and nearly half the durian flesh.
Jiang Jitang looked at the remaining half of the chicken and the mushy yellow durian inside. In his mind: “A sin. Eating something this rich and sugary so late at night.” Yet he still casually took a piece of skin-on chicken breast with his chopsticks.
Although many people preferred stewing tough free-range chickens, he still favored young castrated roosters, especially the three-yellow chicken breed.
That layer of semi-transparent gelatin sat between the skin and the meat, slowly melting into both during long simmering. When bitten into, the skin dissolved instantly, carrying the broth’s richness, while the threads of muscle were tender yet not dry, with a slight springiness.
The durian flesh afterward was equally remarkable.
Although he used one whole durian husk and two large portions of durian flesh, the dish didn’t actually have a strong “durian taste.” It carried more of a special sweetness that perfectly paired with the umami of the chicken, producing a richer aroma and flavor.
Jiang Jitang, who actually wasn’t that fond of durian, still couldn’t resist eating a whole piece.
Chicken eaten, durian eaten, even the broth was finished without a drop left—on the table remained only white chicken bones, sucked clean.
Jiang Jitang swept the waste into the trash bin, brewed himself a pot of barley tea, poured the fragrant brown liquid into a carbonized bamboo cup, leaned on the sofa, and drank slowly, watching the clock tick.
Today’s tasks hadn’t been settled yet.
The 200 points he earned earlier playing hide-and-seek were untouched. He was waiting for tonight’s tasks to be fully settled before arranging them together. He had not forgotten he still owed the system 100 million and 3,000.
Ding!
[Task settlement complete. The tasker has accumulated ten five-star reviews and received the evaluation of Premium Tasker. Upgrade available. Confirm upgrade?]
Hm? Ten five-star reviews?
Right, including today’s hide-and-seek game, it made ten in total. Fair enough.
Jiang Jitang chose to upgrade without hesitation.
Ding!
[Wish Fulfillment General Store System upgrade complete. Upgrade gift pack received. Because upgrade was achieved within the novice period, an additional Premium Tasker Basic Gift Pack is granted.]
[Task orders upgraded: daily refresh changed to refresh every 3 days. Number of orders unchanged. Settlement time extended to 90 minutes. One-star orders upgraded to coexist with two-star and three-star orders. Special tasks unchanged.]
[Upgrade complete.]
Jiang Jitang was about to check the gift packs when another bubble window appeared.
[Detected that tasker has conducted nine transactions in the temporary task plane, gaining preliminary familiarity. Would you like to bind this plane as an Eternal Plane? If not bound, the temporary binding will be lifted.]
“What is an Eternal Plane?”
[Eternal Plane: After binding, order mode ends and business mode begins. Both sides will undertake long-term, closer collaboration. Note: The host has only six binding slots. Once bound, cannot cancel or replace.]
Six slots.
The best allocation would be extremely primitive planes—using cheap industrial products in exchange for high-quality raw materials. Or extremely technological planes—using inexpensive natural materials to obtain their high-tech data and products.
Or magic/cultivation planes—possibly accessing higher-level items.
By comparison, the current temporary plane was near-ancient. Basic materials were inferior to modern ones, high-tech inferior to interstellar ones, and even in taking orders it held little advantage—not much retention value.
Once benefits were involved, Jiang Jitang became extremely rational, nearly able to eliminate emotional influence altogether.
“Don’t bind.” He made the decision.
[Temporary task plane unbound. Now selecting a new temporary task plane.]
[Task plane selected
Safety 
Resources
Development
Description: Wasteland Plane.]
[You may choose to bind after nine transactions.]
[The task plane was updated. At the same time, the upgrade gift pack and Premium Tasker Basic Gift Pack were launched onto the table.]
[Upgrade Gift Pack:
Cargo Pass ×3,
Companion Pass ×1,
Upgrade Card ×1 (usable only on grade 3 or lower equipment).]
[Premium Tasker Basic Gift Pack:
Basic Physical Enhancement Potion ×1
Standard Liquid Protective Suit ×1
Standard Electric Gun ×1 ]
Jiang Jitang took a deep breath of barley tea.
Cargo Pass—he remembered that. Because he lacked one, he couldn’t bring back the fish maw from the fisherwoman.
He then focused on the Basic Physical Enhancement Potion.
Without much hesitation, he used it. “Use the talented, suspect—or don’t, no need.” He was already in the system’s pot; no reason to hesitate further.
The basic enhancement potion was like a regular oral vial, hardly any taste, and after drinking showed no obvious effects—it likely needed time to take effect.
So he paid it no mind and continued looking at the remaining rewards.
[Standard Liquid Protective Suit, Level 1: can withstand most medium-intensity physical damage and low-intensity radiation, corrosion, freezing, burning, etc.; upgradable, 100 points per upgrade.]
It was palm-sized, and when placed against the body, it rapidly transformed into an ultra-thin transparent layer covering the entire body—transparent, without stuffiness or discomfort, like air, almost as if nonexistent.
He tried opening his mouth; the layer over it parted automatically. There was no obstruction in any action.
[Basic Electric Gun, Level 1: more like an electric baton. Can target a biological entity within ten meters and discharge electricity. Strength cannot be adjusted; generally non-lethal; stops when the target is incapacitated. Upgradable for 100 points.]
“Seems like the items from the Premium Tasker pack are all to enhance survivability and safety,” he remarked, before turning to the upgrade gift pack.
Cargo Pass, as mentioned earlier—one pass covers one trip, no matter how many items are brought back.
He now had three, so he’d need to carefully plan what was worth retrieving from task worlds.
Companion Pass, seemingly part of the same series—allows bringing one person back from the task world.
Why would he bring someone back willingly? Unknown background, countless complications.
Lastly, the Upgrade Card—with grade limits. The most cost-effective use was: spend 100 points to upgrade the tasker’s cart or backpack to level 2 first, then use the upgrade card.
Why not wait for level 3? Because accumulating 1,000 points takes too long; by the time he had them, he might not even need the card. Better to use it to buy time.
But he hadn’t yet decided which to upgrade first, as neither was essential currently.
“The task plane has changed. No idea what type of tasks the new world will bring. Based on its description, there’s some danger.” He thought a moment and decided not to use the upgrade card yet—better to wait until necessary.
He opened the task settlement details.
All three orders received five-star reviews, with one containing a mini Wishing Star and one containing a gift.
Thinking he’d never return to that world, Jiang Jitang felt a rare flicker of regret—but only for a few seconds before he returned to normal.
Comment: This winter, our home will no longer fear the cold.
The villager’s reply was short, while the system’s commentary was more detailed.
Without those thick quilts and cotton clothing, that young villager would have lost his mother and an unborn child; his wife would have fallen ill and died early.
But now, thanks to the help, the whole family could safely survive the winter—with no casualties.
A smile appeared on Jiang Jitang’s face. He marked in the notes that the task was “almost impossible to complete.” The villager was surely not someone who knew how to moderate requests—but that didn’t mean he was a bad person; people are multifaceted.
Even if the villager lacked gratitude, so what? His parents, wife, and children were innocent. Jiang Jitang only made one trip—and in doing so, saved many lives. Was there anything more worthwhile?
The follow-ups on the other two orders were equally satisfying.
Comment: The wisher who received the modern flint said it works very well even in rain; the flames drove away the mountain cold. The box of oiled wood strips was also very useful—it only took a bit of shavings to ignite.
This order didn’t change anyone’s fate or save lives, but preventing a high fever after mountain rain was already good.
As he read, Jiang Jitang nodded, finally reaching Hua-niang’s order.
The woman, Hua-niang, had suffered violent assault; the child couldn’t be saved, and her own life was on the brink. Fortunately, Jiang Jitang arrived in time and saved her.
However, things didn’t proceed smoothly afterward. The madam paid no heed to her still being in postpartum recovery and demanded she receive clients. Though drifting through suffering, Hua-niang was like duckweed—seemingly soft but secretly resilient. She strived upward, refusing to sink.
In her original fate, Hua-niang would have died from the miscarriage. But this time, she lived.
In her thirties, she saved enough money to redeem herself and later lived as a laundress. Her life wasn’t long, nor affluent or leisurely, but when she died, she was free—and her soul was at peace.
Worth mentioning: later she adopted more than a dozen abandoned children. Most of them lived ordinary but fulfilling lives, and among them, one joined the military, became a border defense officer, and even protected an entire city.
Jiang Jitang’s kindness changed Hua-niang’s fate; Hua-niang’s kindness changed an orphan’s fate; in the end, that orphan changed a city’s fate.
Perhaps it was because of this that the mini Wishing Star appeared.
And the gift—also from her.
It was a small white porcelain fox. After decades stained by smoke and fire, it had taken on a jade-like luster.
The system said: Hua-niang used it for worship—and what she worshipped was Jiang Jitang.
“She worshipped me—fine. But why a fox?”
Jiang Jitang couldn’t figure it out. Apparently, the image of him in her heart was so lofty that, after much thought, she felt only a white fox from the wilds could be worthy.
“From now on, no more worship.” He patted the smooth head of the porcelain fox and placed it beside the pearl pagoda, covering it as well.
He poured three cups of barley tea, sprinkled them over the tea tray—farewell to Hua-niang and farewell to that task world. Then he opened his personal page and looked at the 215 points he had, and the “Novice Discount Period” still displayed on the points mall.
Money is like a bastard turtle—spend it and you can earn it again.
Then he opened the points mall, only to be dazzled by the long line of zeros after the prices on the first page of items.
What light shines so painfully bright at the end?
It is poverty.
Sigh, why so blunt, author?
I didn’t need that reality check slapped in my face :'(