Although Chuck wanted to make cheese, technically, what he wanted wasn't strictly "cheese."
More accurately, he wanted "concentrated dairy products." Cheese was just a general term.
True cheese required rennet, starter cultures, and specific aging processes—complex and time-consuming. And frankly, Chuck wasn't a fan of strong cheeses like blue cheese; he had tried it once and nearly vomited his dinner. Clearly, that was an acquired taste.
He wanted a simpler way to process the milk Yitong and Janet had accumulated, preserving the nutrients without taking up too much space or too many containers.
As a child, a relative had brought back specialties from Inner Mongolia: "Milk Skin" (Nai Pi Zi) and "Milk Tofu" (Nai Dou Fu).
Chuck had been won over by their rich, milky flavor. Later, out of curiosity, he looked up the process and found it surprisingly simple and brutal.
All that was needed besides fresh milk was vinegar or acidic fruit juice.
Simmering fresh milk concentrated the fat and protein on the surface, forming a film like on cooled porridge. Lifting and drying this film created rich, savory Milk Skin.
After repeating this process, the remaining liquid was skim milk. Adding fruit juice or vinegar would quickly coagulate the remaining casein protein. Filtering and pressing the curds resulted in Milk Tofu—dense, milky, slightly sweet, and tangy.
Both methods were efficient, time-saving, and produced long-lasting food, fitting perfectly with the nomadic lifestyle—and Chuck's current needs.
He moved the iron wok outside, poured in a pot of Yitong's milk, and placed it near the fire but not directly on the flames. After reviewing the steps in his mind, he started.
Step one: Extracting Milk Skin.
The key was heating without boiling.
As the temperature rose, white steam drifted from the surface, filling the air with a rich milky scent.
Mixed in was Yitong's unique, elegant body fragrance, reminding Chuck exactly where this milk came from...
The thought excited him, and his dragon quietly raised its head.
Chuck stirred slowly. Outside, Momo returned from gathering firewood. Thirsty, she headed for the house but stopped at the familiar scent.
"Mommy?"
Pushing the door open, she didn't find her mother but saw Chuck sitting by the fireplace, boiling something in the wok.
Chuck turned, smiling warmly at Momo.
Perfect timing.
He beckoned. "Momo, come here."
The little girl tilted her head in confusion but walked over obediently. Before she could ask, she noticed the thickening milk in the wok.
The rich, mature milky scent confirmed her guess.
"Is this... Mommy's?"
"Yes. We have too much, so I'm making some snacks. I'll let you taste when it's done."
"I... I'll pass, Baba."
Momo's face showed reluctance. Despite the delicious smell, the origin was a bit hard to accept.
"Then taste this instead."
Chuck didn't insist. He stood up and lowered his pants, revealing his fierce dragon.
Momo froze, then her face turned bright red. She nodded shyly, knelt carefully before him, opened her small, tender lips, and extended her soft pink tongue.
Like tasting her favorite candy, she licked gently.
Trained by Julia, Momo's oral skills had lost their roughness, but her soft, childish mouth still felt incredible. Combined with her cute, shy face, Chuck felt an unimaginable sense of taboo and contrast.
So, while stirring Yitong's milk, Chuck enjoyed Momo's tender tongue amidst the milky aroma.
Slurp, slurp.
As the milk thickened to a critical point, Chuck put down the ladle and cupped Momo's face.
"Do you like it?"
"Like... mmph~"
Chuck thrust gently, filling her cherry mouth. Even so, only the head fit. He grasped her soft hair and moved back and forth shallowly, as if using a cup.
"Mmmph—mmmph—"
Momo's small hands instinctively held Chuck's muscular legs. Her big eyes glazed over with hearts. Even though her jaw ached, her expression was pure bliss.
Squelch, squelch.
A yellowish film formed on the milk's surface, while a dense foam appeared around Momo's pink lips.
When the film reached the right thickness, Chuck reached his limit too. He patted Momo's cheek and withdrew.
Momo obediently extended her sticky tongue and cupped her hands to catch.
Chuck lifted the Milk Skin and draped it over a prepared drying rack. White drops fell slowly as he released his scalding essence onto Momo's tongue and palms.
Moments later, Chuck stroked her head lovingly and took out a cloth to wipe her face.
Unexpectedly, the little girl closed her mouth and swallowed everything, licking her palms clean not to waste a drop.
Chuck chuckled. "You love it that much?"
"Mmh, it smells good, tastes like Baba... I like it..."
Momo licked her lips, blushing, and burrowed into Chuck's arms.
Chuck tore a corner off the drying Milk Skin and held it to her mouth.
Momo hesitated, her face red, but looking at Chuck, she opened her mouth and took a bite.
Her eyes lit up instantly.
"Is this good too?"
Chuck smiled and tasted a piece himself.
The texture was chewy like tofu skin, but the flavor was overwhelmingly rich and creamy, highlighting Yitong's elegant scent. It felt more premium than what he remembered.
High-end ingredients often need only simple processing. Yitong's milk was undoubtedly top-tier.
"Delicious... but it tastes like Mommy..."
Momo's expression was complex—part strange, part intoxicated, with a gleam in her eyes like a new door had opened.
If it was this good, the source didn't matter to a foodie.
Chuck smiled and patted her head. "Go on. Once these are dry, they're all yours."
"Mmh, thank you, Baba..."
Momo nodded shyly and ran off.
Chuck continued working. By the time he extracted three pan-sized skins—totaling over a pound—the milk stopped forming films. The liquid volume had only reduced by about 10%.
That was step one.
Step two: Making Milk Tofu.
Keeping the skim milk warm, Chuck picked up a jar of pale orange juice.
It was wild tropical sour orange juice Julia had found. Too sour to eat, but perfect for cheesemaking.
Chuck stirred while slowly pouring the juice into the hot milk. The liquid instantly curdled into flocculent masses.
As more juice was added, curds separated from the whey. Chuck let it settle, then poured the mixture through a cloth over a large pot.
He squeezed out the liquid, packed the curds into split bamboo tubes, and pressed them with wooden boards. The curds solidified into about six pounds of Milk Tofu.
Essentially homemade cheese, rich in casein.
Chuck tasted it. Rich and milky like the skin, but with a refreshing tangy sweetness from the orange. Addictive.
Two hours later, thirty liters of milk yielded three pounds of Milk Skin, six pounds of Milk Tofu, and nearly twenty liters of whey.
The whey was less nutritious but still a decent drink or soup base. Most importantly, it freed up valuable storage space.
...
Chuck hung the Milk Skin to dry and stored the Milk Tofu.
The quartz sand was washed.
Back at the furnace near noon, Chuck raised the temperature and placed the clean sand into the workbench.
The synthesis prompt lit up.
[Detected: Quartz Sand] [Synthesis Prompt: Quartz has an extremely high melting point. To smelt glass, you must raise the furnace temperature above 1700°C, or add soda ash to lower the melting point and lime for stability. Burning seaweed is an effective way to obtain natural soda ash.]
Seaweed...
The prompt gave the method, but with a new requirement.
Though on an island, Chuck's marine exploration was limited. Fortunately, seaweed was abundant on the beach.
He had ignored it as trash, but now it was key. Island survival meant everything had value.
Collecting seaweed alone was inefficient, so Chuck briefed the women during lunch.
After the meal, everyone packed tools for the beach.
The weather was sunny and mild.
Before leaving, Janet approached Chuck, hands behind her back, smiling mysteriously.
"Baby, since we're all going to the beach and the weather is so nice, isn't it a waste just to pick seaweed?"
Chuck paused, putting on his basket. "Any suggestions?"
"A tense, exciting beach volleyball match! Winner gets a prize!"
Janet raised an eyebrow, looking eager.
Chuck was puzzled. "Where would we get a volleyball?"
"Oh, Baby, I knew you'd ask."
Janet revealed her hand, holding a "volleyball" wrapped in cloth.
Chuck blinked. "You made this?"
"Of course. Wrapped with vines and string. I've been waiting for a chance like this~"
Chuck chuckled, shaking his head. Then, a wicked smile appeared.
"Alright, let's have some fun. But if we're playing, regular beach volleyball isn't exciting enough."
"Oh?" Janet's eyes lit up. "You have a better idea?"
Chuck nodded, reaching out to grab her breast.
"Nude beach volleyball sounds much more interesting, don't you think?"