Substitute Alpha Gets Confessed to by Her Ex’s Aunt on a Survival Variety Show – Chapter 59

So Fragrant, So Fragrant — Seafood and Mixed Bean Rice

The starry sky tonight was breathtaking.

Liu Yinxi gazed at the stars and moon alongside Nan Huaixu, her spirit captivated by the beauty. “That’s right. Once you leave this primeval rainforest, whether you return to a city or a small town, you’ll never see such a clear starry night again.”

            

Nan Huaixu twitched the corner of her mouth, maintaining a silent smile.

She suspected her classmate Xiao Liu’s Chinese wasn’t very good.

In a single sentence, Liu Yinxi could never quite tell whether the key word was “person” or “stars.”

            

Liu Yinxi adjusted into a comfortable sitting position, hugging her arms. “You know, Teacher Nan, the light pollution and air pollution in our cities is too severe—it’s regional. In our country, if you want to see a beautiful starry sky, you have to go to the vast northwest.”

“Mm. I haven’t been there much.”

“Where do you like best?”

            

Nan Huaixu turned to look at her. “Me?”

“Yes, you. It’s just the two of us here—who else would I ask?”

“I think Hongdu is nice. I like staying at home, tending to flowers and plants, watching TV, playing games.”

            

“Teacher Nan likes playing games?”

Nan Huaixu paused briefly, then deliberately sighed. “I knew it. You’re a fake fan.”

Liu Yinxi guiltily avoided her gaze. The memories she’d received from the original owner contained no information about Nan Huaixu liking games. In the original book, Nan Huaixu hadn’t participated in variety shows—her preparation time for the competition was already tight. How could she have specifically researched Nan Huaixu?

            

Nan Huaixu’s words weren’t meant to make things difficult for her; there was just a small hint of regret. But it wasn’t a problem with the fans, either. “I’ve basically never told anyone outside that I play games. Because I play Pac-Man¹, Snake², Bubble Bobble³—those old games. No one would be interested, right?”

Liu Yinxi was surprised. “Those kinds of games?”

Nan Huaixu laughed. “What did you think?”

            

“Popular mobile games, or AAA titles, or interesting indie games.”

Nan Huaixu raised one eyebrow. “Well, as your teammate, I’ll quietly reveal another exclusive secret to you, fake fan.”

Liu Yinxi leaned forward eagerly, tilting her ear closer.

            

Nan Huaixu whispered, “I’m handicapped⁴ when it comes to complex games.”

“Pfft—Teacher Nan, are you sure you want to tell me such an important secret?”

Nan Huaixu straightened up and shrugged indifferently. “You already know.”

            

Liu Yinxi fanned herself with a leaf. “I’ll keep it strictly confidential.”

“Liu Yinxi, can you read the stars?”

“A little. I’m not very good at identifying constellations.”

            

“Look at this sky—is there anything you recognize?”

“Mm… over there. Those stars connected together—that’s Centaurus⁵. The brightest star at the bottom left is Alpha Centauri⁶—one of the brightest stars humans can observe.”

Nan Huaixu followed where she pointed and indeed saw a star more brilliant than the other small stars. Her mouth opened in surprise. “How do you know so much?”

            

Liu Yinxi tilted her head, her eyes full of starlight. “Because knowing the stars helps you determine direction, and you can predict the weather based on the night conditions. I only know the basics. You think I know a lot because you never paid attention to these things before. If you’re interested, you can find all this information online—demystification⁷ happens fast.”

“You even know the word ‘demystification.'”

“Teacher Nan, I’ve noticed you have some pretty deep stereotypes about me. My education level isn’t high, but I am studying properly.”

            

“Sorry. I’ll work on fixing my bad habit of stereotyping.”

“Hehe, I forgive you. Teacher Nan, look over there—those four stars connected in an X shape. That’s the Southern Cross⁸. Same surname as you, Teacher Nan…”

Every night, the stars were overhead. Even when covered by clouds, they never drifted far away.

            

Only on this day did someone finally teach her how to read the stars.

The mystery stripped away, they remained just as brilliant, just as luminous.

So beautiful.

            

The stars.

---

Bracelet date: May 5th.

The stream flowed on, the rising sun’s glow making the water sparkle.

            

Liu Yinxi crouched on the river shoal to fetch water, boiling some in advance to let it cool for Nan Huaixu to wash her clothes.

A buzzing sound came from the sky to the west. She looked up—a black dot appeared, slowly flying toward her.

The compensation drone was here this early?

            

Liu Yinxi checked the time on her bracelet. Past six in the morning.

The production team probably couldn’t precisely control the drones’ flight times. Better early than late—they were delivering the compensation supplies ahead of schedule to the river shoal.

She waited on the river shoal for a while, waving her arms at the sky. The shadow grew larger.

            

Two drones arrived in total. One carried a 600g bag of rice, the other carried 400g of rice and 200g of mixed beans.

The drones landed on the river shoal and took off again after Liu Yinxi retrieved the supplies.

Liu Yinxi hoisted the three bags of grain in her left hand and picked up the full plastic water bucket with her right, climbing the slope back toward the shelter.

            

Smoke drifted from the treehouse’s first floor. Liu Yinxi jogged over, set down the water bucket, and hugged the three supply bags to her chest. “Teacher Nan, you’re awake.”

Nan Huaixu murmured an assent, hand at her mouth as she yawned. Her drowsy eyes swept over and landed on the white rice and beans in Liu Yinxi’s arms—suddenly, her eyes lit up. “The compensation arrived?!”

Liu Yinxi lifted the bags and shook them, letting the rice and beans collide with a rustle-rustle-rustle⁹, like a harvest melody.

            

Nan Huaixu checked the time. “It arrived before six-thirty?”

Liu Yinxi nodded. “Arrived just past six.”

Nan Huaixu held out both hands, her smile blooming like a flower. “Come, I’ll cook you two big bowls of rice.”

            

Liu Yinxi handed her the bags one by one. “That extravagant? Is that okay?”

Nan Huaixu carefully opened the rice bag, brought her nose close, and inhaled. The fragrance of rice filled her nostrils. She lifted her head, revealing a blissful smile.

“You made me tomato beef rice, you cooked me braised beef noodles. Isn’t it only right that I cook you two bowls of rice?”

            

“Teacher Nan, you’re truly a great benefactor.”

“Yes, the books say one should repay kindness and reciprocate courtesy.”

Liu Yinxi sat with her sleeves tucked in, smiling as she watched Nan Huaixu busily cooking rice and vegetables. When she had a moment, Liu Yinxi pointed to a bucket of clean water beneath the storage rack. “That bucket is boiled water I set out this morning. You can use it to wash clothes later.”

            

Nan Huaixu looked up. “You got up this early to boil water? I thought you went to wait for supplies.”

“That too. Both are done.”

“Are you going to fetch water again in a bit?” They’d agreed last night to go down to the river shoal together this morning.

            

Liu Yinxi pulled an empty bucket from the storage rack. “I have to. Need to store water for cooking and for my bath tomorrow. Then you can wash clothes at the river shoal—I’ll need to watch you to feel at ease.”

Nan Huaixu feigned helplessness. “Understood.”

Being together was good.

            

The rice the production team sent was fragrant rice from Southeast Asia. When cooked, it was translucent and aromatic. Even without side dishes, just sprinkled with sea salt and mixed, it was delicious. Nan Huaixu also added a small handful of beans to the rice—a pot of fragrant mixed bean rice that made one’s appetite stir.

Nan Huaixu crumbled fish and crab meat into the bowl, mixed it well, and handed it to Liu Yinxi. She also roasted two oysters and served them with wild vegetables for the meal, plus two small mangoes for dessert.

Liu Yinxi took the rice bowl, blew on the steam, and instantly brightened. “Such a feast first thing in the morning.”

            

Nan Huaixu had been eating well these past few days and wasn’t very hungry. She only scooped herself a small bowl. “Food is the first necessity of the people¹⁰. I’ve thought it through—we’re in a competition. Saving is important, but when it’s time to replenish, we need to eat well. Good steel should be used on the blade’s edge. If you miss the critical moment when you need energy most, your spirit and morale will suffer later. At the first drum, spirit is high; at the second, it flags; at the third, it is exhausted.¹¹“

Liu Yinxi puffed her cheeks as she chewed, pulling her hands free to clap. “Good, good! Teacher Nan speaks so well. Listening to Teacher Nan is worth ten years of reading¹².”

Nan Huaixu smiled. “Hey, Liu Yinxi—did you actually understand what I meant, or are you just saying ‘good’?”

            

Liu Yinxi spoke through her food, her words muffled. “I get it. You mean we should eat our fill, keep a good mood, persist, and we’ll win.”

Nan Huaixu thought for a moment. She’d said so much, and Liu Yinxi had summed it all up in one simple sentence.

Liu Yinxi had grains of rice at the corner of her mouth. “Teacher Nan, am I right?”

            

Nan Huaixu peeled a crab claw for her. “Right. Special reward.”

“Thank you, Teacher Nan!”

The crab claw was small, but it carried Teacher Nan’s praise. Liu Yinxi ate it happily, savoring it carefully—it seemed sweeter than the other crabs.

            

After finishing two bowls of rice, she peeled the two mangoes and gave the larger one to Nan Huaixu. After the incident where Nan Huaixu had suddenly produced a mango for her, she understood—Nan Huaixu liked mangoes, so she’d secretly saved a sweet one.

Hahaha. It poked at Liu Yinxi’s strange cute spot somehow—like a little hamster, moving food away without anyone noticing.

In reality, no one was competing with her.

            

There were plenty of wild mangoes in the rainforest. She could gather more when collecting food in the future.

Liu Yinxi took a sip of soup and swallowed her inhibitor. Today’s feeling had faded a lot—she no longer needed to hold her breath when getting close to Nan Huaixu.

When she’d learned diving for her expeditions, she never expected that one day she’d use breath-holding for this.

            

Mom was right. One more skill in your arsenal, one more convenience in life.

“Mm—hmm.” Liu Yinxi stretched both arms, arching her back.

She noticed Nan Huaixu gently rubbing her stomach with one hand, holding a small basin of clothes.

            

“Teacher Nan, is your stomach uncomfortable? Should I make some long pepper¹³ water?”

Nan Huaixu lowered her head, her voice sounding uncomfortable. “A bit of dragging pain. It’s not a stomach issue. It’s fine—normal.”

“Oh…” Liu Yinxi immediately thought of menstrual periods. Nan Huaixu’s heat had ended a few days ago—counting the days, her period should be coming.

            

She needed to gather some fresh moss to dry and heat up, to use in place of toilet paper.

Moss was an indicator species that required a clean growing environment. It was relatively clean itself, soft and absorbent—in the wild, it could serve as an emergency cleaning material.

The triangular shelter latrine also needed to be built as soon as possible. The fishy smell of menstrual blood would attract dangerous animals. Setting up a proper shelter with burial, then sprinkling plant ash and burned ash, would both mask the odor and disinfect.

            

Besides, a latrine with a roof and walls could provide a sense of security when a person was at their most vulnerable.

Liu Yinxi added firewood to the fire hole and boiled a bowl of honey water, bringing it to Nan Huaixu along with a painkiller tablet.

She held them out. “Teacher Nan.”

            

Nan Huaixu accepted the honey water, her gaze falling on the pill in Liu Yinxi’s palm. “Each person only has a few painkillers. I have my own—why are you giving me yours?”

Liu Yinxi replied calmly, “My period doesn’t hurt. I don’t feel anything—I don’t need them. If I’m injured badly enough to need painkillers, I should be requesting outside help.”

Nan Huaixu’s expression turned serious. “I really don’t need it. It’s not that painful. If it hurts badly, I’ll take my own medicine. When I run out, I’ll ask you.”

            

“Alright.” Liu Yinxi extended her hand. “Give me the clothes.”

Nan Huaixu tightened her grip on the small basin, hesitation in her eyes.

Liu Yinxi’s voice was soft. “Let me. The water is cold.”

            

---