Chapter 374

Not only was I speechless and unable to stay angry, but I also had to smile and thank him: "Great Chef Sun Wukong, you are so magnanimous—it is we who are narrow-minded. I apologize to you on behalf of my senior brother."

The other Buddhist disciples also hurriedly apologized to Sun Wukong.

Sun Wukong seemed not to mind, smiling as he drew the Ruyi Knife and traced a line before the Buddhist disciples and the Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.

"Since you don't like it, then this Old Grandson will just separate it from you."

The golden barrier divided the Buddhist disciples and the dish into two interfaces; they could only see the lidded small cups and could not touch them.

The Buddhist disciples' complexions improved slightly, suggesting Sun Wukong bore no ill will—perhaps, as he said, he merely wished to present the dish for them to see.

This little interlude having passed, Sun Wukong smiled and said to all: "Everyone, open the lids of these small cups—I believe you will not be disappointed by this dish."

As Sun Wukong's words fell, the immortals could no longer restrain themselves, hastily lifting the lids to see what lay within.

Because the lids had been on for a long time, when they were lifted, steam and fragrance rushed forth together, the steam hot and swirling, making one's vision swim.

In an instant, the steam dissipated, revealing the food inside the small cups—a sight no immortal had ever seen, leaving them stunned.

"This, this broth is actually golden-yellow, as if it were glowing."

Though the voice was soft, the Great Hall was nearly silent, and all attention was drawn to the dish.

Those slower to react, hearing this, hurriedly peered into their own small lids—and indeed, the broth within was radiant gold; stirring it with a soup spoon caused the thick broth to cling immediately to the spoon, even staining the spoon gold.

"How fragrant! One need not even taste it to know this dish is delicious."

These immortals' reactions were exactly as Sun Wukong expected; turning to the immortal who had just spoken, he said: "You should still try a bite—otherwise, you can only look, and what difference is there from the Buddhist side?"

The Buddhist side felt insulted, yet what Sun Wukong said seemed also true.

Zhenyuanzi was already eating happily—abalone, sea cucumber, dried scallop, fungi—the essences of these ingredients had already seeped into the broth.

Conversely, the broth carried the flavors of various pork and beef bones mixed with the ingredients; this flavor was beyond compare, making one unable to stop after a single bite.

Sun Wukong was very pleased with the immortals' reactions; the more intense their response, the greater their recognition of his culinary skill and his master's artistry—more importantly, another good show was yet to come behind.

Yang Jian originally had some interest in the dish, but not much; after eating Chen Nuo's cooking, he found everything tasteless.

Though Sun Wukong's culinary skill is fine, compared to Chen Nuo's it is far inferior; these immortals could eat so fragrant mainly because they had never tasted Chen Nuo's cooking.

Though some looked down on Sun Wukong's cooking, if they now wished to eat Chen Nuo's, their brows already ached faintly—apparently, they could only first eat his disciple's cooking to quell their cravings.

Having thought this, Yang Jian picked up his soup spoon and placed it into the small cup.

He first scooped out a fungus, its color and luster radiant, still stained with golden broth; even before putting it in his mouth, he seemed to know in advance how delicious this dish would be.

Yang Jian slowly placed the fungus into his mouth, then widened his eyes.

"What, what exquisite flavor is this!"

Judging by the broth's thickness, this dish must have been simmered for a long time—perhaps from the very first dish, this one had already been stewing on the fire.

Yet the fungus showed no loss of texture or flavor from the prolonged stewing.

Though the broth contained the fungus's umami, the fungus's own inherent deliciousness had not diminished in the slightest.

Moreover, due to this long simmering, it combined not only its own umami but also the freshness of other ingredients, and its texture remained firm—not mushy—still retaining a springy bite.

One fungus down, Yang Jian involuntarily glanced at Sun Wukong—it seemed he had underestimated him; originally, he had not paid much attention to his culinary skill.

Having seen true jade, who would still turn their gaze to a counterfeit—even if that counterfeit were cultivated by jade itself?

Yet through this dish, Yang Jian's attitude toward Sun Wukong underwent a great change; he had not eaten Sun Wukong's cooking in some days, and apparently, during this time, he too had been growing—this dish was the best proof.

Yang Jian lowered his head and continued eating the other dishes in the small cup.

"Absolutely!

Truly absolutely."

One immortal had already finished his meal, wiped his mouth, and praised Sun Wukong: "Great Chef Sun Wukong, how did you make this dish? It's too delicious—do you think there will still be a chance to eat your cooking in the future?"

"No chance."

Sun Wukong answered truthfully.

The immortal could not help but feel regret: "You work in the Heavenly Kitchen; if I still wish to eat your cooking later, I can pay you."

"Paying is fine."

Sun Wukong became interested—he most hated people eating his cooking for free; of course, if one first praised him, the result would be different.

"For this ordinary dish, I can accept fewer treasures or the like—this kind of dish can only be exchanged for treasures—don't worry, I'm very reasonable here."

The immortal who had originally planned to pay silver felt regret upon hearing Sun Wukong's words: "In the mundane world, meals have always been paid for in silver—yet here you demand treasures in exchange?"

"You said it yourself—it's the mundane world."

Sun Wukong showed no deference: "Since I serve in the Heavenly Kitchen, I must certainly follow Heaven's rules—I've already been quite reasonable here."

The Buddhist side could no longer restrain themselves; the fragrance that had drifted over had already stirred the hunger worms in their bellies.

They had thought serving the dish meant they could enjoy its deliciousness—little did they expect this deliciousness to be a meat dish; meat dishes were tolerable enough, but to place it before them, only to look and not eat—this was worse than punishment.

Sun Wukong had already noticed the resentment rising among the Buddhist disciples; he seemed to recall something, walked to the Buddhist table, and said: "Ah, look at my head—I only said to let you look, forgot to open the lids, left them like ash urns—truly, I've denied you a full feast for the eyes."

As he spoke, he opened each small cup before the Buddhist disciples one by one.

The barrier drawn by the Ruyi Knife only blocked distance, not fragrance—originally, not opening the lids was fine.

Though the opposite side's fragrance assailed their noses, they could see nothing—still, they could at least eat the food before them to endure.

The sudden opening of the lids let them see what lay within—if they had to endure this any longer, it would truly be like torture.

As the lids opened, the golden broth previously mentioned by the immortals opposite appeared before them.

A Buddhist disciple with weak willpower called out to Sun Wukong: "Great Chef Sun Wukong, I need not trouble you to open mine."

Sun Wukong pretended not to understand, asking: "Why not open it? If you don't even look, then haven't I been sitting here for nothing?"

The Buddhist disciple spoke frankly: "I truly do not wish to waste your kindness, but this dish is too fragrant—we can only look, not eat—this is sheer torment."