RPS – Chapter 16 “Lotus Roots” Growing on Dry Land

Back when Li Feng was a kid, he once mistook this thing for lotus root. He genuinely believed it was a kind of lotus root that grew on dry land, because the leaves looked so similar—broad, green, waterproof—just like lotus leaves. The only difference was that these were slightly longer and smaller, growing along the edge of dry ditches.

He remembered once when he was out doing an interview. A local family had planted some of these by the ditch near their front door. Looking for a casual opening to start a conversation, he pointed at the green patch by the entrance and said, “Auntie, you’ve planted those lotus roots that grow on dry land too! I really like lotus root. I wonder if you’ve brought us any dishes made with it today?”

At the time, he was quite pleased with his approach—how down-to-earth it was! But no sooner had he spoken than the nearby villagers burst into laughter, some even doubling over. He was left completely baffled. What’s going on? Then, an old man came over, patted his shoulder, and said, chuckling, “Young man, you’ve got a talent for jokes. That’s taro, not some lotus root that grows on dry land! There’s no such thing as lotus root growing without water!”

Li Feng had been thoroughly embarrassed. What a blunder! It was humiliating. But ever since that little fiasco, he’d developed a bit of a grudge against taro—though he remembered it more clearly because of it. And sure enough, he recognized it at a glance this time.

Taro was great stuff, just like sweet potatoes. Each plant yielded a cluster of tubers. Not only was it delicious and versatile, but the best part was—it stored well through winter. It was an excellent food reserve!

When Nuo saw the sparkle in Li Feng’s eyes as he stared intently at one spot, he got excited. By now, he could tell—Li Feng had found another treasure. Following his gaze, he saw another lush patch of green. Could it be another edible plant?

Li wasn’t too comfortable letting Li Feng wander off alone, especially with nothing urgent to do after lunch. So he decided to head toward the riverbank to find him. Just as he was about to leave, he saw Nuo hurrying back, which startled him—thinking something had happened. But Nuo grabbed his arm and said, “It’s nothing. I just came back for the stone shovel and basket. Feng found something good again.” His voice was soft, and only Li, Bu, and Nuo himself could hear the last sentence.

Li and Bu nodded and each carried a basket. They even brought Li Feng’s own basket along. The other tribe members didn’t think much of it—they were known to pair off, and everyone just assumed the couples had gone to the river for some alone time. So nobody disturbed them.

When Li arrived, holding the baby, he saw Li Feng squatting down and digging at something with a small stone. Li passed him the shovel. Li Feng looked up and took it, his cheeks flushed—maybe from excitement, maybe from earlier embarrassment that still hadn’t faded. His medium-length hair clung to his face, and Li gazed at him gently. He reached out and tucked a few strands behind Li Feng’s ear. Li Feng’s already-red ears turned even redder.

Li smiled gently, his handsome face lit with warmth. His eyes never left the diligently digging Li Feng. The sight was truly charming—though Li Feng, absorbed in his work, didn’t notice.

Li handed the baby to Li Feng and crouched down to dig himself. He knew Feng didn’t have much strength and was still recovering physically, so he would tire quickly. As expected, after a short while, Li Feng was exhausted and simply sat holding the baby, watching Li and Bu dig.

There was quite a lot of taro growing here, and it was harvest season. So every taro they dug up was big—some the size of fists, the smaller ones still about the size of a baby’s hand. They wouldn’t be able to fit everything in just one or two baskets. Looking at the long riverbank and the abundance growing on both sides, Li Feng estimated there must be at least several thousand jin (roughly 1,500+ kg). The riverbank really stretched far.

Li Feng thought about calling the tribe to come help and showing them what the plant looked like. But—not yet. Maybe next time. He had selfish reasons. The baby was still small, and they didn’t have much food at home. He needed to start preparing for winter now, to ensure they had enough supplies. He couldn’t—and wouldn’t—let Li and the baby go hungry, not when he had the power to prevent it. So yes, he’d be a little selfish for now.

The baby in his arms was still awake. Li Feng extended a finger, which the baby grabbed tightly. The little one’s pink, chubby cheeks were puffed out, mouth blowing bubbles of drool—it was unbearably cute! Feeling that tiny hand clench his finger made Li Feng’s heart melt. This was his baby—his very own child!

Li turned and looked at Li Feng, whose face was glowing with a soft maternal light. The corner of his lips lifted slightly. Li Feng seemed to sense the gaze, and when he looked up and met Li’s tender eyes, his heart skipped a beat. What was this feeling—tingly and soft, like an electric current? He quickly looked away and resumed playing with the baby.

What’s with that sly smile on your face, man? You’re killing me here! That ridiculously good-looking face, and then you flash that dazzling smile at me…

Li just thought Feng was being shy and smiled to himself. Feng was still the same—easily embarrassed and just as adorable.

The four of them spent the whole afternoon digging taro by the river. No one in the tribe questioned it—some had already picked enough fruits and didn’t go out every day. Plus, the idea of two young couples spending time alone together was perfectly normal.

It wasn’t until the tribal chief called them back that Li Feng carried the baby home, his own basket filled with ginger and fruit. Li carried the other one, which was packed full of taro. Clearly, they’d need a few more trips. Luckily, the spot wasn’t far from the tribe. If he brought Li, Bu, and Nuo again next time, it should be enough.

Once they had enough stored for winter, he’d let the tribe in on the find. The rest would be shared among them.

Back in the cave, Li Feng rested briefly, then began preparing dinner. Bu and Nuo had gotten used to staying for meals whenever Li Feng cooked something new. He didn’t mind—he just assigned them chores: washing pots and bowls, fetching clean water, so he could start cooking.

Tonight, he planned to make braised pork with taro. With limited ingredients, he picked out a few large taros, wrapped them in animal hide, and slammed them against the ground a few times—this made the skins easier to peel.

Because taro sap can irritate skin, he washed them thoroughly and left them soaking in water.

He stir-fried the meat with cubed taro and julienned ginger on a sunken stone slab until golden, then transferred everything into a clay pot to simmer. Once the meat was 70–80% done, he added the taro and stewed everything until both meat and taro were tender. He added salt at the end—there were no other spices available.

Taro thickens the soup as it cooks, and absorbs all the savory flavors, making the broth rich and not at all gamey. It even looked a bit like fish soup—thick, fragrant, and judging by the expressions on the others’ faces, absolutely delicious.

He also boiled a batch of plain taro. There was no sugar, so they had to eat it as-is. Luckily, it was naturally sweet, and though the flavor was mild, it had a lovely fragrance and was very filling. Still, one had to be careful not to overeat—it could cause bloating.

As expected, the pot was scraped clean—again. This wasn’t the first or second time either. In this primitive world with no seasoning, no grains—just meat and fruit—even average cooking would be considered heavenly. But Li Feng wasn’t just average—he’d lived alone, cooked for himself, and had been a journalist for a food magazine. Of course, he had some skills in the kitchen.