Chapter 8: The Peach Blossoms over the Flowing Stream and the Mandarin Fish Are Fat
Seeing Han Qiwu walk into the house, Brother Jing said to Tang Qingying, "You go grab some anti-inflammatory meds from the room, I'll go get some Burnt Knife liquor."
"Anti-inflammatory meds?" Tang Qingying looked confused. "Uncle, where are you hurt?"
Brother Jing pointed at the kitchen. "Not me, it's that kid who's about to get hit. The dorsal spines of mandarin fish have neurotoxins. If you get stabbed, you have to treat it right away or it'll be a real headache. Painful and swollen. Back in my day, handling mandarin fish was a nightmare."
"Huh? Then why didn't you stop him, Uncle?" Tang Qingying stood up and was about to rush into the kitchen to stop Han Qiwu.
"Relax, it's just a little pain. Young people should gain some experience." Brother Jing waved his hand with a mischievous grin on his face.
Damn kid, taking my niece's money instead of mine!
In the kitchen, Han Qiwu touched Brother Jing's fish-cleaning knife, and instantly, a flood of muscle memory filled his body.
The knife angle, force application, bone structure, meat handling, special techniques—it all came into focus.
"This skill [Fish Filleting Technique] is terrifying!" Han Qiwu couldn't help but take a deep breath.
"Cough, smells so fishy."
Picking up the knife, Han Qiwu skillfully chopped the fish in half. As he was about to continue processing, he spotted a pile of dark red shards emitting a faint system glow in the cut section.