What ordinary people wouldn’t eat was, for Andre, life-saving food.

Especially under the rocks by the stream; flip one over and you’d find a whole nest. He had relied on these little crabs to get through countless hungry nights.

Unlike sea crabs, the roe of these small freshwater crabs was exceptionally delicious and plentiful. They weren’t all empty shell and heavy fishiness like their saltwater cousins.

Lin Chen removed the carapaces one by one to help them cool faster. He picked up the shell of a female crab, slid his combat knife inside, and scraped it around the inner walls, gathering all the roe along with the black membrane beneath it.

He pressed his thumb on the crab’s mouth from the outside and gave it a gentle push. With a CRACK, the entire mouth section came off, taking the internal organs with it. A tantalizing amount of orange-red roe still clung to the surface.

The tip of Lin Chen’s knife danced, precisely and neatly scraping all the roe into the carapace. Only the inedible parts, like the crab’s heart and stomach, remained attached to the mouth section, which he tossed into the fire pit.

After dealing with the carapace, he picked up the body.

First, he sliced off the feathery, oblong gills on both sides. Then, holding the legs on either side, he gently broke the crab, splitting it evenly down the middle into two halves.

He then broke off all eight legs and two claws, setting them aside. He flipped the crab body sections over, meat-side up, and cut each one in half.

The internal structure of the cut body sections looked like a series of small drawers, packed full of tender, juicy white meat. You could easily pick out all the meat with just the tip of a knife or a chopstick.

Lin Chen was fast. Processing the four quarter-sections of the body took him just over a minute. The carapace was now piled high with a small mountain of crab meat.

He picked up the claws, cracked the hard shells with the back of his knife, made a horizontal cut with the tip, and picked out the meat hidden inside.

The legs were handled the same way, but the process was even simpler than with the claws.

All he had to do was break off the upper leg segment, cut off the joints on both ends, and then push the lower leg segment into the upper one. The entire tube of leg meat would be squeezed out automatically.

His movements were a bit clumsy at first, but as he finished one leg after another, his speed and fluidity visibly and rapidly improved.

He arranged the extracted leg meat neatly on top of the small mountain of crab meat, filling the carapace to the brim.

Eight crabs, eight mountains of crab meat.

Andre, who had watched Lin Chen’s entire process of preparing the crabs, stared blankly, his jaw nearly hitting the floor.

In his experience, while these little crabs tasted good, their only downside was that they were a huge pain to eat. You’d barely get any meat and end up with a mouthful of shell instead.

But after watching Lin Chen’s technique, he realized it wasn’t that the crabs were a hassle to eat—it was that he had no idea how to eat them.

It wasn’t the crabs’ fault; it was his.

Gazing at those bulging little mountains of crab meat, he couldn’t stop himself from gulping.

’How satisfying would it be to stuff all of that in my mouth at once?’

"Lin, has anyone else asked to partner with you before?"

"No, you’re the first person I’ve met."

Without looking up, Lin Chen piled all the processed crab shells together. He took two pieces of the duck tail he had cut off earlier and tossed them into the skillet to render the fat.

"I’ve decided. I’m going to partner with you every week from now on. If you run into anyone else later, please, you have to save one day for me!"

"I’ll try. It’s hard to say if I’ll even meet anyone else. This forest is huge, after all."

He didn’t make a firm promise, wanting to leave himself some room to negotiate later.

While the fat was rendering, he cut off two strips of fish belly and threw them in to fry as well.

Both duck fat and fish oil have their own strong aromas. A stock made with them would have a unique and rich flavor, guaranteed to be even more appetizing than the duck blood soup from lunch.

Under the high heat, a thin layer of oil quickly rendered out in the skillet. The duck tails and fish belly were fried to a tempting golden brown, shrinking noticeably in size.

At this point, he poured all the crab shells in and began to stir-fry them, ensuring the fish and duck oil completely coated their surfaces.

"Stir-frying crab shells? What’s that for?"

If Andre could still follow the previous steps, this one was completely beyond his comprehension.

’Aren’t crab shells trash? Why is he stir-frying them? Can you even eat this stuff?’

"Making stock," Lin Chen said, glancing at him without much surprise. "The rich soups you get in restaurants are all built on various kinds of stock."

"Besides the most basic vegetable stock, beef stock is made from beef bones, lobster stock is made from lobster shells, and shrimp stock is made from shrimp shells."

"So you’re making crab stock now?"

"Right."

Andre never would have dreamed that so-called "stock" was actually made from kitchen scraps. He had always assumed it was an essence simmered from many expensive ingredients, which was why it was so pricey.

As the crab shells were continuously stir-fried in the pan, a rich seafood aroma wafted out, and the shells slowly turned from red to a golden-red color.

He tossed in a few Chinese onion leaves to add flavor. Seeing that the shells were about done, he poured in the remaining boiling water the crabs were cooked in.

"TSSSSSS—"

Billowing steam rose, and an intensely rich, savory crab aroma filled the air. Andre, completely intoxicated by the scent, took a deep, rapturous sniff.

"Amazing. That smells so amazing. It really takes a pro to do this. They’re the same ingredients, but in your hands, you can do so many things with them. It makes me want to try authentic Daxia Cuisine to see what it’s really like."

It’s not like other wilderness survival shows hadn’t invited chefs before, but their performances were always disappointing. Some chefs even managed to burn precious game—it was utterly absurd!

He had expected a similar situation this time, but thanks to a moment of curiosity, he had hit the jackpot!

’If anyone ever says it’s useless to have a chef on a wilderness show again, I’ll be the first to jump up and prove them wrong!’

The hot water just barely covered the shells. As the liquid bubbled away, it took on an alluring orange-red hue. You could tell just by looking at it that it would be absolutely delicious.

After the crab broth in the skillet had boiled for a while, he poured it all back into the stockpot to continue simmering with the rest of the crab-cooking water and the porcini mushrooms.

But he wasn’t finished.

Lin Chen cut up several large chunks of Jerusalem artichoke and tossed them in. When cooked, they have a soft, dense texture like potatoes and can act as a natural starch to thicken the soup. To put it simply, it’s a thickener.

Once the crab soup was simmering, the fire pit next to them was also ready.

After adding a bit more firewood, he stuffed all the prepared ingredients into the King’s Down Duck’s cavity, sealed the opening, and hung it from a thick wooden stick down into the fire pit. He then plugged the entrance with fir needles and other materials to ensure the internal temperature of the pit remained stable.