Chapter 118: A Heavy Taste

Johnson waved his hand dismissively. “Isn’t this just a monopoly, plain and simple? Why waste so many words?”

He then ordered one million yuan worth in a single package: three cases of ten-year-old aged liquor and one case of twenty-year-old premium brew, to be savored later. Leaving the distillery around noon, he found the largest local restaurant and asked the chef to prepare a signature feast:

An all-bamboo banquet!

First came the fragrant bamboo roasted rice, made exclusively from the native fragrant bamboo of the Chishui region. The moment the lid was lifted, a rich, fresh aroma wafted out. The rice was soft, glutinous, pure white, perfectly shaped, and uniquely distinctive.

The scent of bamboo blended flawlessly with the sticky rice, filling the air with a tantalizing aroma that teased the palate in ways words could scarcely capture.

Next was the bamboo-woven duck. Each free-range native duck weighed about a kilogram alive, reducing to roughly 0.7 kilograms when cooked. The live ducks were slaughtered and cleaned, then marinated before being woven whole into bamboo baskets and boiled in water.

Once cooled, the bamboo casing was removed, the duck chopped into small pieces, and mixed with stir-fried yellow soybean paste. The flavor was slightly salty but could have used a bit more finesse in cooking.

Then came the bamboo tube steamed egg. Fresh farm eggs were beaten evenly and poured into bamboo tubes, steamed gently over low heat with the lids left slightly ajar to prevent honeycomb-like holes. Goji berries and scallions were sprinkled on top.

The delicate fragrance was like the morning sun rising slowly over a mountain bamboo grove, exuding the clear freshness of dew. The warmth on the tongue felt like basking in sunlight itself.

A young girl then presented a bowl of tea, explaining that fresh leaves were first steamed in a pot. When soft, they were kneaded on bamboo mats before being packed into bamboo tubes. The tubes were sealed tightly with wooden rods to allow slow fermentation.

After two to three months, the tea inside turned yellow. The bamboo tubes were split open to remove the tightly pressed leaves for drying, then stored in earthenware jars soaked in aromatic oil, ready for consumption at any time.

The tea’s fragrance was captivating. Biting into a freshly picked tender bamboo shoot was simply... exquisite.

The bamboo tube chicken followed, made from green bamboo harvested the same year, with one end sealed by a node and the other open. The chicken was stuffed with liver, gizzards, shiitake mushrooms, lily bulbs, and ham, then shaped back into a whole chicken form and placed inside the bamboo tube, sealed tightly with banana leaves. It was roasted over chestnut charcoal for two hours before removing the leaves.

The method was unique and ancient in its simplicity. The dish combined the sweet freshness of chicken with the pure aroma of green bamboo—a match made in heaven.

Finally, the chef personally brought a plate and placed it before Johnson, who laughed heartily. “This one’s for you!”

Small, milky-white larvae, thinner than a pinky finger, wriggled incessantly.

The chef smiled. “Wild bamboo worms—the grand finale of the all-bamboo banquet, reserved for our most honored guests.”

“These little creatures live inside bamboo tubes, feeding mainly on tender bamboo. They eat from the tip down through each segment and mature in about twenty days. During harvest season, every household ascends the mountains to seek them out in the bamboo groves.”

“When sick spots or deformed bamboo segments appear, people cut open the nodes to find the worms. Once grown, the worms bite off the bamboo shoot’s tip to escape, so catching them depends a lot on luck.”

“Even here, they sell for two hundred yuan per jin; in upscale restaurants elsewhere, prices can reach hundreds or even thousands.”

Johnson recalled a local saying: “Anything green counts as vegetables; anything moving is meat.”

Bamboo worms were a rare delicacy, spending their entire lives inside bamboo. They hatched as tiny larvae at the tips of bamboo shoots, growing alongside the shoots until they soared skyward. Yet, from the outside, bamboo revealed no sign of these hidden inhabitants.

Locals liked to harvest bamboo for crafting, and only by chance would they discover clusters of these plump creatures at the bamboo tips. They would extract the hidden guests, set a fire, wrap the worms in banana leaves, and slow-cook them under the embers.

The roasted bamboo worms gave off a clean, fragrant scent. A pinch of salt enhanced their flavor. Plunged into the mouth, their texture was both crisp and tender, infused with a subtle bamboo aroma. Especially with their bodies still writhing slightly, biting down unleashed a burst of juice...

That sensation...

Watching the boss relish the dish so enthusiastically, Xia Long and Xia Hu summoned their courage, each grabbing one and tasting it. Indeed, it was exceptional, and they soon joined in the feast.

Both bee larvae and bamboo worms were must-try delicacies in Chishui. Bee larvae developed inside honeycombs, nestled sweetly in hexagonal cells. To avoid disasters, beekeepers smoked and burned the hives before harvesting, saving the larvae from destruction.

Deep-fried in oil, the larvae turned golden and crisp, perfect as a snack—non-fattening and possessing medicinal benefits.

Bee larva soup, with its reddish broth dotted with golden-fried larvae, was irresistible. The combination of fresh, spicy flavors, silky broth, and the larvae’s crisp tenderness created a striking contrast.

The crowning touch was a bowl of translucent white rice noodles. Closing one’s eyes, the entire essence of Guizhou seemed to unfold within.

Then a soup was served, creamy white with various mountain delicacies floating atop. Johnson’s eyes lit up as he spotted a bell-shaped mushroom cap, beneath which hung delicate white mesh-like strands resembling two half-open umbrellas.

“Bamboo fungus?” Johnson remarked with satisfaction. “The stem is pure white, with a plump pinkish volva below—quite striking. Once picked, trimming the cap releases an enticing fragrance.”

The chef ladled the soup, explaining, “Because the stem’s top is surrounded by a fine white mesh skirt spreading downward, we affectionately call it the Snow Skirt Fairy. Rich in amino acids from its proteins, it boasts an exceptionally fresh, savory flavor.”

Tasting it slowly, the texture was tender and crisp, sweet and savory, with a unique character. It was no exaggeration to call it the king of all mushrooms—excelling in appearance, aroma, and taste.

The final dish resembled a blooming flower. Johnson’s face brimmed with curiosity, having never before encountered such an ingredient.

“In the vast bamboo sea,” the chef explained, “an aphid species parasitizes the bamboo, feeding on its sap. The residual debris, under environmental and fungal influence, blossoms into a peculiar flower that ferments into bamboo bird’s nest.”

“It can only be found in autumn’s bamboo groves. It vanishes instantly with sudden temperature changes, making it extremely rare. The flavor is refreshing and tender, rich in nutrients, especially vitamin B. Its value rivals real bird’s nest, earning the title ‘bird’s nest of the plant kingdom.’”

“A natural treasure, nurtured by the heavens, requiring extraordinarily strict growing conditions. Not even advanced technology can replicate its environment. Please, esteemed guest, cherish it well.”

Having heard the chef’s words, everyone indulged heartily in the feast—a banquet woven entirely from bamboo, a generous gift from nature.

Johnson tipped 50,000 yuan to Jenny, donated the off-road vehicle to the local orphanage before departure, and received a call from Yu Qian inquiring if he was interested in searching for purebred Tibetan Mastiffs on the plateau.

Without hesitation, Johnson flew straight to the highlands.