I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl
Chapter 114 – Wood Smoke and the Scent of Memories

Chapter 114: Chapter 114 – Wood Smoke and the Scent of Memories

Fourth day of rest.

Morning came without surprises. I woke up a little later than usual and only stretched briefly in my room. No big plans today and that felt nice. I spent the morning reading a book from the small shelf in the inn’s lounge. It was a travel journal of an elf adventurer exploring the northern mountains. The writing was light, poetic, and occasionally exaggerated... but entertaining.

In the afternoon, I sat on the inn’s balcony, sipping herbal tea while staring at the sky. That was it. No battles, no magic, no other undead groaning in the distance. Just me, a cup of tea, and the chirping of birds perched on the roof.

Fifth day.

This morning, I returned to the market, this time just to buy a few small supplies: hemp rope, clean cloth, and two glass jars. I also stopped by the herbal shop to find some spices for my bacon smoking later. I asked the vendor, an old witch with messy purple hair, if there were any herbs or spices that had a sweet, gentle flavor when smoked. She recommended a dried leaf called "sukrov" she said its aroma would seep into the fat and give a soft smoky-sweet flavor. I bought a small pouch. Apparently, smoking meat was common here, but no one seemed to know how to make bacon they only smoked meat to make jerky.

In the evening, I sat in the small kitchen of my inn room, observing my bacon hanging quietly in the curing area. Its color had deepened significantly a dark red with slightly glistening edges from the salt and natural oils. My gentle touch could feel the firm but pliable texture. Its aroma... truly tempting.

One or two more days, I thought. Then it would be time to smoke it.

Sixth day.

Today, I spent time cleaning and preparing the tools for smoking. In the inn’s backyard, I found a shady corner that was perfect for building a makeshift smoker. With the innkeeper’s permission, I arranged some stones to form a low fire pit, then made a rack out of wire and old wood to hang the bacon.

I wasn’t a professional smoker, but I remembered the basics from my previous life:

Low indirect heat.Low fire.Aromatic wood smoke, not open flames.

I set everything up carefully. That night, I didn’t go out. I just sat near my curing area, gazing at the stars hidden behind a thin veil of mist. The last day was nearly here.

Seventh day. Final day of rest.

Early in the morning, I removed the cloth cover from my bacon and took a deep breath. This was it.

The meat was now firm, pliable, and fragrant. The salt had fully seeped in, and the surface glistened slightly from the natural fat. I knew one final step would make it perfect smoking.

But I needed the right kind of wood. Regular smoke would only make it taste burnt. I wanted aroma. Something that would elevate the flavor. Aromatic wood that could truly bring the bacon experience to a whole new level.

And only one person came to mind: the innkeeper.

I went downstairs, and as usual, the woman the innkeeper was calmly wiping down a table while humming softly. She had an odd aura: far too calm for someone living in this world. She knew too much... yet never interfered in others’ affairs.

"Excuse me," I said as I approached.

She turned and smiled. "Oh, good morning, Miss Undead."

I blinked. "Morning."

She asked casually, "Are you making something? It smells salty, but also fresh, like meat?"

I chuckled. "I’m making something and looking for a type of wood that gives off a sweet aroma when smoked something that suits smoked meat."

She put down her cloth. Her gaze shifted, just slightly more... eager than suspicious.

"Of course I know," she said, walking behind the counter. "Wait a moment."

She returned with a small wooden box. Inside were several pieces of wood, each with a tiny label on it.

"’Silvo wood,’" she said, lifting the first one. "Light scent, slightly sweet. Good for fish or light smoked meats."

"This one, ’Mervan,’ a bit resinous. Smells like nuts and honey great for fatty meats."

"And lastly, ’Ordan Bark.’ Sharp aroma. Gives a taste like aged smoked meats from royal kitchens."

I was stunned. "You... how do you know all this?"

She only smiled mysteriously. "Well... let’s just say I used to manage a noble’s kitchen. But life at court is boring, you know? Too many rules. So... I opened an inn. Much freer."

I looked at her more closely. "You’re a former noble?"

"Maybe," she replied with a wink. "Or maybe just a retired royal chef. Whichever you prefer."

I laughed. "I guess it doesn’t matter. Thank you for the wood."

"I’ll come watch when you start smoking it. That smell doesn’t come around here often, and I’d like to taste what you’re making it doesn’t smell like regular smoked meat."

With the tools I had prepared, I began stacking small pieces of Mervan wood and slowly lit them. Just a small fire. I waited until the wood began to smoke without big flames. Then I hung the bacon on the smoking rack above, covering the top with a thin metal hood so the smoke would gather.

Quick Tutorial: How to Smoke Bacon

Prepare your aromatic wood of choice. Avoid high-resin woods like common pine. Pick woods what do you like it for complex flavors.

Use low heat. Don’t let the fire touch the meat directly. You only want smoke.

Hang the bacon. Ensure the pieces don’t touch the fire and leave enough space between them.

Smoking time: 1–2 hours for a light flavor. Longer if you want a strong aroma.

Rotate the position every hour to ensure even smoking.

Time moved slowly as the aroma began to fill the air. Sweet, savory, and subtly caramel-like scents wafted through the backyard. Even a few neighbors peeked over the fence.

The innkeeper arrived with two cups of tea.

"You’re making everyone hungry," she said.

I just smiled. "But only I get the first taste."

A few hours later, I lifted the bacon from the rack. Its outer color had darkened a deep brown with a faint golden sheen from the slowly melted fat.

I sliced a thin piece. A soft crrk sound echoed as the knife cut through the crispy outer layer, then slid gently into the inner meat. I borrowed a pan from the innkeeper and cooked the bacon its aroma was simply divine. Once it was ready, I took a bite.

One bite.

Savory. The smoke was mild but noticeable, sweetness from the sukrov leaves, and a texture that was firm but not tough.

I closed my eyes.

"This..." I whispered, "was truly worth the week of waiting."

Then I shared it with the innkeeper. Thankfully, I had prepared plenty about 5 kilograms, and now there were about 3 kilograms left.

Seventh day. Final day of rest.

And for the first time in a long while, I felt... satisfied.

Tomorrow, the world awaits me once more.

But today, let the bacon speak.

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