The Grilled Fish Master Takes Charge at Liangshan Marsh

> I transmigrated into Water Margin as the 109th hero, and set up a grilled-fish stall at the docks.

> “What'll it be, sir? Mild, medium, or crazy spicy?” I asked with a smile as I skewered a fish.

> Li Kui slapped the table. “Bring me the numbest one you've got!”

> Then he slipped me a secret message hidden in the fish's belly: “That scoundrel Gao Qiu is planning to attack the mountain.”

> Wu Yong came over to try the food. His eyes watered from the spice, but he still asked, “Boss, got anything to cool the burn?”

> I handed him some sour plum drink. “Strategist, this cools the spice, and the fire in your heart, too.”

> At closing time, I counted the coins. Du Qian and Song Wan came knocking under cover of darkness. “Brother, that new spy the imperial court sent...”

> I twirled a skewer with a chuckle. “I saw that coming. Tomorrow's special is hot-and-sour fish, perfect for anyone who won't fall in line.”

The sun at the end of June baked the bluestone dock until it sizzled with oil, like a giant griddle fresh from the stove. The air was thick with the fishy smell of the lake, the stench of rotting mud along the bank, and a... bold, irresistible aroma of charred spice.

The source was beneath a crooked old willow by the marsh. A greasy cloth awning stood over a makeshift stove built of rough bricks, its charcoal glowing red-hot. Several plump grass carp were skewered on crude iron rods, and I kept turning them round and round. Under the charcoal's kiss, the sizzling fish skin first tightened, then burst with a hiss into countless tiny blisters, releasing golden fat. The dripping grease fell onto the coals, sending up a small plume of greenish smoke that smelled of char.

“Sizzle!”