HLM – Chapter 1071 There’s Even a Submarine

The main dish was egg pancakes. Wang Bo also sliced some pickled vegetables and mixed them with chili oil, aromatic vinegar, and crushed peanuts—an absolutely perfect combo. Even Eva couldn’t stop praising it as she ate.

In the afternoon, Father Bo and Mother Bo returned from the sea. Dale saw them and immediately ran over to show off her haul from the beach. “Big sis, look at this rock—what does it look like? Doesn’t it look like a little calf? And this one—does it look like a piano?”

The aroma of the egg pancakes still lingered in the air. Father Bo sniffed and asked, “What smells so good?”

Wang Bo pulled out the mud-cleansed river snails and said, “Dad, your nose is impressive. I haven’t even started stir-frying the snails yet, and you already smell something?”

With so many people gathered, it was the perfect time to cook spicy river snails to go with drinks.

Father Bo quickly chopped up a mountain of scallions, ginger, and garlic—it takes a lot of aromatics to bring out the flavor, plus some sauce for richness. Between the two of them, they soon had a small basin of ingredients ready.

The oil sizzled as Sichuan peppercorns and star anise hit the wok, instantly filling every corner of the kitchen with the fragrance of spices.

Wang Bo tossed in half a basin of scallions, ginger, and garlic into the hot oil. After a short sizzle to release their aroma, he immediately added the river snails. After a few rounds of stir-frying to coat the shells in oil, he added sweet bean paste.

A useful trick: add a bit of peanut oil into the sweet bean paste at this stage. That keeps the sauce from sticking too much to the wok and helps it cling to the shells—delicious when sucking on them.

He kept stir-frying, then added a little salt, sugar, and chicken essence. And just like that, the spicy river snails were done.

Several neighbor kids came running over, and Wang Bo invited them to stay for dinner—good company for Dale.

These kids also came because of her. They were at that rebellious and awkward age—instinctively fond of Dale but too shy to express it. With the snails as an excuse, they stayed happily.

They cooked a half-wok full of river snails. Mother Bo had also brought back a batch of fresh seafood from the shore—octopus, squid, crabs, prawns, razor clams, oysters… a messy assortment.

This didn’t need to be cooked separately. After cleaning the large wok they used for pancakes at midday, they dumped everything in at once, covered the lid, and let it steam on high heat.

“This is our famous big-pot seafood stew. You kids are lucky—you’re tasting the most authentic countryside seafood feast,” Wang Bo said.

Li Xing replied, “I’ve had it before. Actually, I prefer small seafood dishes—like spicy crab, braised prawns in oil, grilled oysters. What about you, Brother A?”

“He likes dog poop,” Wang Bo said with a laugh.

Dale grimaced. “Teacher, what are you saying? We’re eating!”

“Yeah, that’s gross,” the teenagers echoed.

Dale cheerfully sucked on a snail, smacked her rosy lips, took a sip of water, and continued eating with delight.

Made this way, spicy river snails had the richest flavor—spicy, numbing, fragrant. The shells were coated in a glossy layer of sauce, which was even tastier than the meat inside.

Na Qingyang went out and bought a lot of beer. They sat in the courtyard, drinking while enjoying the sea breeze, downing one bottle after another.

By the time the big-pot seafood finished steaming, they were already sixty percent full.

Li Xing, who had a big appetite, ate four large crabs and a big bowl of shrimp, plus plenty of others. Only after that did he pat his belly in satisfaction. “Mmm. Good. I’m finally full.”

“You weren’t full last night?” Mother Bo asked, turning to Wang Bo. “Xiao Bo, how are you hosting your classmates? If the fridge was empty, couldn’t you have gone to the supermarket? It’s so convenient.”

“Supermarkets still have stuff late at night?” Wang Bo asked, puzzled as he munched on snails.

Mother Bo replied, “The village is doing the seaside homestay business now and it’s going well. In summer, lots of tourists come, so the supermarkets stay open until eleven or twelve.”

“Especially these days, with so many people here to dig for seafloor stones—some eating and staying in our village. Business is even better,” Father Bo added.

As they chatted, dusk arrived unknowingly. The teenagers reluctantly waved goodbye to Dale, some even leaving her small gifts—seafloor stones, shell-made animals, and other trinkets.

She carefully tucked them away and clapped her hands. “Alright! When I grow up, I’ll look at these again. I’m sure I’ll feel differently then.”

“You sure think far ahead,” Wang Bo laughed.

With Father Bo and Mother Bo back, many villagers came over to cool off at their place—and of course, to chat with Wang Bo, who was now considered the top young talent in the surrounding towns.

Naturally, the conversation shifted to the child they had rescued at the reservoir that morning.

Father Bo and Mother Bo didn’t know about it yet—no one had told them.

When they heard about the child being pushed into an abandoned well by a little girl in red, they became worried and wanted to find a monk or Taoist to drive away evil spirits.

Wang Bo didn’t believe in such things and went to bed early.

The next morning, after his run, he returned home to hear unfamiliar voices. When he entered, it turned out to be the parents of the child they rescued, coming to thank them with a pile of gifts.

Father Bo and Mother Bo knew them. When Wang Bo was in college, Mother Bo worked at a small factory in town for extra income, where she had been colleagues with the couple.

The conversation was the usual—blaming the reservoir for not filling in abandoned wells and endangering kids, thanking Wang Bo and Eva for their heroic rescue, and discussing the mysterious little girl.

Wang Bo asked how the child was doing. The man said they sent him to the wife’s younger sister’s home—the family he was closest to. He seemed fine—emotionally and physically stable.

The woman thanked Eva, saying she not only saved her son but even used fortune-telling to protect him.

Father Bo and Mother Bo were confused—how could a teacher know how to tell fortunes?

Eva didn’t bother to explain. Their cultural backgrounds and worldviews were too different; there was no need to convince each other.

Wang Bo’s main tasks were done. The production process for the superhydrophobic metal wire had been sent to a factory. Once produced, it would be shipped to New Zealand, and construction on the lakeside holiday cabin could begin.

Another day passed. Song Zijun’s diving team finally arrived—they were going underwater together. Wang Bo followed them up.

His diving team was anything but ordinary. Besides salvage ships, they even had a submarine!

Wang Bo had heard of civilian submarines but had never seen one before.

This one was pure white, with a bright red star painted on its body. About ten meters long and three meters high, it had the sleek teardrop shape of a military submarine.

Seeing it, Wang Bo asked Song Zijun, “You can actually buy these in China now? Looks pretty good.”

Song Zijun laughed. “They’ve been available for a long time, but their performance is limited. This one is imported from Japan—much better than domestic models. It can dive more than a hundred meters.”

“How much?”

Song Zijun said, “Cost me over a million yuan. What do you think? Want to buy one too?”