Chapter 772 Direction
Night fell, stars trailing across the plains.
The sea surface twinkled with light, the sound of water reverberating.
Bi Fang lifted the wooden plank, unfolded the palm leaves, and opened the canvas bag, where pieces of shark meat patties were neatly arranged. He picked up one, its rich smoky aroma wafting through the air, occasionally intermingled with traces of fishiness.
Ground into a pulp, then salted and spiced, sun-dried, and finally smoked—sometimes even fried on one side. After such a complex process, ordinary people might no longer detect the distinctive smell of shark meat, but to Bi Fang's nose, it was still there, only mostly masked by the smoky scent.
It tasted nothing like shark meat; the predominating flavors were those of salt and smoke. It wasn't unpleasant to eat, quite similar to an ordinary meat patty.