Chapter 3023

An innate race elder is willing to personally teach one's Xiūliàn, what a fortuitous opportunity, Ma Shī xiōng naturally knows.

Having come to Beyond the Heavens, he also gained much insight, knowing what an innate race is, and furthermore knowing what kind of existence this innate race elder is.

Put simply, if it weren't for Ye Zhangqing, these Xiāntiān rénzú could easily capture the Immortal City Beyond the Heavens with just those two ancestors.

Having such a figure personally guide you, the benefit to your own Xiūliàn is self-evident.

Therefore, Ma Shī xiōng naturally had no hesitation, and immediately cupped his fists in thanks.

Seeing this, the ancestor's smile didn't fade, but he was also at the end of his tether, laughing as he spoke.

The issue of Xiūliàn is simple: just make me a bowl of rice to taste, and we can talk about anything else.

Huh? You just want to eat, why are you spouting all this nonsense?

That must be your real goal, right? Upon hearing this, Ma Shī xiōng gave this ancestor a complex look, finally voicing what was on his mind.

But he simply couldn't refuse; they just wanted a bite of rice, what's wrong with that?

But this matter wasn't up to him to decide; he could only speak to this ancestor.

"I can only go ask about this; I can't guarantee anything."

"No problem."

Hearing this, the ancestor nodded with a smile, not insisting, saying let's try first and think of other ways if it doesn't work.

Although they now have to lower their heads under someone else's roof, he is still an ancestor-level figure of the primordial race—what's wrong with just wanting a bite of rice?

On the other side, Ma Shī xiōng, who came to the Fire Room to find Ye Zhangqing, didn't see Ye Zhangqing but did see Xu Jie, and said with a serious expression.

"Third Shī xiōng, no matter what, they are also an ancestor-level figure, with their strength right here—it's just a matter of a few more bowls of rice."

Xu Jie naturally understood as well, didn't refuse, and simply nodded.

"This is simple, but I don't know if today's food quantity will be enough; after the meal time, I'll ask Junior Fellow Disciple Zhangqing what he thinks."

"Thank you, Third Shī xiōng."

Xu Jie also thought there was no problem, after all, their strength was indeed there.

As the line went one by one to get rice, there were indeed some leftovers, but definitely not enough for all the Xiāntiān rénzú.

We can only first take care of the two ancestors and those strong Xiāntiān rénzú.

However, for the others, Ye Zhangqing, after hearing Xu Jie's words, thought it over and nodded.

"Then tomorrow we'll include them as well, after all, it's all just one pot."

"Alright."

This is a method of winning over those Xiāntiān rénzú, allowing them to pledge allegiance more quickly; it's a good thing.

After all, having eaten Ye Zhangqing's food, would these Xiāntiān rénzú still be willing to leave?

In fact, those Xiāntiān rénzú who have eaten the rice are each utterly astonished.

One bite, the flavor is simply indescribable—it's just delicious.

The two ancestors were eating with oil dripping from their mouths, unable to stop for a moment.

I'm still wondering, they're of the same Human Race, and they're Xiāntiān rénzú, so how come they've never eaten such delicious spiritual food before?

One of the ancestors, while eating, muttered curses indistinctly.

"Back then, those Immortal Chefs of the Shenjie were just eating whatever; the food they made was like feces—no wonder they had no future."

Among the Xiāntiān rénzú there naturally are Immortal Chefs, but among the Xiāntiān rénzú, being an Immortal Chef is a profession with absolutely no prospects.

These are cultivators who can't get by, lack talent, and have ordinary backgrounds—only they would choose this path.

But back then, no one imagined there would be such delicious spiritual food in this world.

Having eaten Ye Zhangqing's rice dishes, looking back at what those Immortal Chefs used to make—misshapen melons and cracked dates—it's basically inedible.

If they had Ye Zhangqing's culinary skill—heck, even just a hundredth of its flavor—the Immortal Chefs among the Xiāntiān rénzú wouldn't have such low status.

At the very least, they could stand shoulder to shoulder with Pill Masters and Weapon Refiners.

All we can say is that we lack ability; it's no wonder others look down on us.

I have nothing else on my mind; right now I just want to eat, and this rice is absurdly delicious.

And the other strong Xiāntiān rénzú are no different; they eat the rice, their eyes shining brightly as if they'd found some ultimate treasure.

Even companions nearby, some with wives and children at their side, were outright ignored.

The child, seeing his father eat so fragrant, called out in a soft, childish voice.

"Dad, I want to eat too."

But the man, head down, shoveling rice into his mouth, casually said:

"Wait a minute, it's not your turn yet; let Dad first taste the food to see if there's any problem."

But as soon as he said that, the child ignored it, burst into a wail, and cried from hunger.

Are you just tasting? You're about to finish it all.

Think about it—the Shenjie was destroyed, we fled all the way here, and we're still alive; our love for the child is naturally beyond doubt.

All the dangers along this road have been shielded from the child by the father risking his life.

I'd rather die and vanish than let the child suffer any harm; this is the love etched into a parent's bones.

Love aside, the father would not even frown if he gave his life for you, but this rice is another matter.

Besides, what spiritual food does a child need? Breathing in a bit more heavenly and earthly spiritual energy is better than anything.

Thinking this way, the father eats with a clear conscience.

The father is like that, and the mother is no different.

The few female cultivators who had eaten were even more focused than the men, not even lifting their heads at the children's crying nearby.

Some of the older children couldn't help but reach out to tug at their mother.

Some older children can't help but reach out and tug at their own mother.

Getting a bit annoyed, this mother directly cast a binding spell, thereby binding the child there.

His movements were smooth as flowing clouds and water, showing no hesitation at all.

Hey, why do you keep tugging at me while I'm eating?

All in all, after this meal, it let these Xiāntiān rénzú eat to their heart's content, and at the same time opened a brand‑new door for them.

After living so many years, I've never tasted food this delicious.

Back when they were in their own Shenjie, they used to sneer at these spiritual foods.

It was just a few Dao friends gathering, putting them out for show—actually nobody wanted to eat them.

If you have time to eat, you'd be better off taking a couple more sips of immortal brew.

But now, the Xiāntiān rénzú who have eaten the meal feel that before, they simply lacked experience.

But it's not their fault; the blame lies only with those Immortal Chefs, who have cultivated themselves into a dog's belly and can't even cook properly.

Look at their flavor, then look at what you've made—what nonsense is that?

He let out a comfortable burp, only then able to speak, turning to the disciple of the Dao One Immortal Sect beside him and casually asking.

"Delicious! What ingredients are these spiritual foods made from? We've never eaten them before."