Marked by the Four Beast Lords After Transmigration

Nia pulled the watergrain sack from the dry shelf shortly after first bell and stopped with her fingers resting against the cooking strip tucked beneath its tie.

Shen had already carried yesterday’s covered portion to Old Iven before first bell and returned before she took down the sack.

She had spent yesterday learning how to cook it properly, and today she wanted a meal built around it rather than another plain test.

Shen was trimming the tougher ends from a bundle of long hollow stalks at the preparation board. He glanced toward the sack when she set it down.

“Are you testing it again?”

“No. I am making lunch.”

That brought his attention fully away from the stalks.

Nia loosened the tie and measured a portion into a bowl. She did not take much. Watergrain still cost enough that she could feel the expense each time the pale grains slid from the sack, but she wanted more than another plain bowl. She wanted browned meat and onion with plenty of garlic, enough heat to linger after she swallowed, and grain that carried all of it instead of sitting beside it.

The idea reminded her of biryani, though she lacked most of the ingredients she would have used on Earth. What she wanted was something closer to the kind of food she missed from home.

“I want to cook the meat with it,” she said.

Shen gathered the cut stalks into a clean dish. “Are you cooking it in the same pot?”

“Yes. I want to brown the meat first.”

“What kind of meat do you want?”

Nia looked toward the covered meat bowl on the raw side of the kitchen. “I want the bird.”

A snow burrow-hen had come into their household share the previous evening already cleaned and divided. Nia had planned to use most of it for broth, but the thigh and breast pieces would take browning well enough for what she wanted.

Shen washed his hands before crossing to the raw side.

Nia measured the watergrain according to yesterday’s strip, covered it with clean water to soak, then pulled the small jar of fresh sunseed oil from its place.

Shen returned with the bird meat.

“You are using the new oil.”

“I am using some of it.”

“You said it was expensive.”

“The grain is expensive too. I have already decided what I want for lunch.”

Nia peeled a mountain onion and cut it in half. “I have been eating mountain food for months. Today I want something with the spice layering I miss from home.”

Shen’s knife slowed before continuing through the meat.

The kitchen filled with the sharp smell of onion as Nia chopped. She crushed garlic beside it, then reached for the mountain pepper and rough herb salt.

Her hand passed the small marked redneedle jar without touching it.

“You do not want the stronger heat?” Shen asked.

“Not in the shared pot. I want heat, but I still want to taste everything else.”

“Kael can have more afterward.”

“Yes.”

Outside the entrance, someone dragged a loaded handcart over the upper path. The wheels knocked hard over one of the stone joins before a man called for the driver to slow down. Another voice answered from farther down the slope, followed by the scrape of the cart being pulled back into a better line.

Neither Nia nor Shen went to look.

The sounds moved past their entrance and continued downhill.

Nia drained the soaked watergrain while Shen finished with the bird and cleaned the raw knife.

She warmed a shallow layer of sunseed oil in the clay pot first. The oil loosened quickly over the hot-pot stone, and when she added the bird in small batches, the first pieces hissed against the bottom.

Nia smiled before she meant to.

Shen was beside her with the clean turning tool before she asked for it.

She browned the pieces until their surfaces darkened, then lifted them into a waiting bowl. The mountain onion went into the remaining oil next, and its sharpness softened as the edges began to brown.

Nia added the crushed garlic and stirred it through before it could scorch. Then she added enough crushed mountain pepper to bring clear warmth without making the shared pot painful.

She wanted more depth in the base, so a small spoon of preserved tomato concentrate went into the pot. She worked it through the onion and pepper until its raw sour smell deepened and the oil turned rusty around the edges.

Shen handed her the broth cup, and she added enough to loosen the browned coating from the bottom of the pot.

Nia tasted the liquid from the edge of the spoon, added a little herb salt and more mountain pepper, then tasted again.

The browned bird went back into the pot with the drained watergrain.

Shen watched the level while Nia poured in the measured water.

“You used slightly less liquid than yesterday.”

“The broth counts toward it.”

“It does.”

She settled the lid over the pot.

Once the bubbling started, Shen lowered the heat and returned to the preparation board to cut the long hollow stalks finer for the end of the cooking.

Nia washed the bowls they had used for the meat while the covered pot worked. Every few minutes the smell changed. Onion and browned meat came first, then the pepper grew warmer, and eventually the watergrain began carrying everything together beneath the lid.

Nia had not smelled anything exactly like it since Earth, but it brushed close enough against familiar memories that she dried her hands more slowly than usual.

Shen’s shoulder brushed hers when he reached for another bowl.

“You miss it badly today.”

Nia looked toward the covered pot.

“I miss food sometimes in a way that feels ridiculous. It is not even one specific dish. I miss the way different spices were layered together and how many directions one meal could go.”

“It does not sound ridiculous.”

Shen rested his hand briefly against the back of her neck.

Nia leaned into the touch for a moment before he returned to the board.

When the pot had cooked long enough, she moved it away from the strongest heat and let it rest beneath the lid.

Kael came home during the waiting.

Nia heard him at the entrance before she saw him, boots scraping once against the wet-entry landing before he removed the outer layer of mud from the morning route.

He came into the kitchen after washing.

His gaze went to the pot.

“What did you make?”

“Spiced watergrain with bird.”

Nia reached for the lid.

Steam rose between them when she opened the pot.

The grains had taken on the darker color of the browned onion and tomato concentrate. Pieces of bird rested throughout instead of sitting in one layer, and the hollow stalks Nia scattered over the top gave the surface a fresh green edge.

Kael stepped closer.

Nia stirred from the bottom once, careful not to crush the grain.

The texture had worked. Each grain stayed tender and separate while the browned meat juices and spice clung to it.

She tasted first.

Heat spread slowly across her tongue. The mountain pepper was stronger here than in broth because the oil had carried it through the grain, but it stayed below the point where eating stopped being pleasant. The onion had gone sweet under the tomato’s sourness. The bird had kept enough of its browned edges to stand against the grain.

Nia took another bite before filling the bowls.

She served herself first, then Shen, and Kael received the third bowl.

Nia set the marked redneedle jar on the table beside him with its dedicated tiny spoon, a little dish of sunseed oil, and a clean narrow transfer stick.

“The shared pot is hot enough for me,” she said. “Yours can be stronger.”

Kael reached toward the jar.

“Put the oil in first.”

He put a little sunseed oil into the small dish. Nia used the dedicated spoon to measure a restrained amount of dry redneedle into the oil, returned the dry spoon beside the marked jar, and stirred the mixture with the clean transfer stick.

She spread only part of the diluted redneedle across one side of Kael’s bowl, then set the transfer stick on a separate scrap of cloth for the rest of the meal.

“That should be enough to start.”

Kael mixed the stronger portion through the grain and took a bite.

Nia ate from her own bowl while Shen tasted his portion more slowly, separating a piece of bird from the grain before trying both together.

“The browned base works better with this grain than it does with stone grain,” Shen said. “The flavor stays around each grain instead of disappearing into porridge.”

“That is what I wanted.”

Nia took another mouthful and stopped paying attention to anyone else for a while.

The watergrain carried the spice exactly the way she had hoped. Some bites held more browned onion. Others caught the sharper edge of garlic or a piece of bird darkened at one side from the first sear.

Across from her, Kael reached the bottom of his bowl while Nia still had nearly half of hers.

He looked into the pot and served himself again, this time taking a substantial second portion.

Kael ate several bites before looking at the small dish of diluted redneedle.

“Add more heat.”

Nia picked up the transfer stick from its separate cloth and added some of the remaining redneedle oil to his second serving.

The scent rising from his bowl made her nose prickle from where she sat.

Kael took another bite.

He ate more slowly than he had eaten the first serving, but every few bites he went back for another piece of bird with grain gathered around it. When the meat ran low, he scraped the browned onion from the side of the bowl and ate that too.

Nia stopped halfway through raising her spoon.

Kael looked up. “What?”

Nia lowered her spoon. “Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

He kept eating.

When the second bowl was empty, Kael reached toward the pot again.

Nia watched him take a third portion, smaller than the second. He tipped the last of the diluted redneedle oil from the little dish over one side of the grain and mixed it through.

Nia smiled into her own bowl and kept eating.

A call came from outside before Kael finished.

One of the lower workers stood beyond the entrance asking whether the north storage crew could move two sealed salt bins before afternoon rain reached the lower turn.

Kael set his bowl down and went to the entrance.

Nia could hear his answer from the table.

“Move the first one. Leave the second until Tarek checks the lower stones. If the cart sinks at the turn, unload it there.”

The worker left downhill.

Kael washed his hands again when he returned.

His bowl was still where he had left it.

He sat down and finished every grain.

Later, Shen covered the remaining portion from the pot.

There was less left than Nia had expected when she began cooking.

Kael stood beside the table fastening the clean wrap around his wrist before going back out.

His gaze dropped to the covered bowl.

“That is for tomorrow,” Nia said.

Kael looked at her. “Are you saving it for me?”

“We will see.”

He bent, kissed her once, and left for the lower route.

Nia secured the redneedle jar and returned the dedicated dry spoon beside it while Shen carried the used oil dish, transfer stick, and cloth scrap away for separate washing. She put the leftover watergrain on the cool shelf for tomorrow.