Chapter 290

  Moonlake City (IV)

  We all neatly sat around a rectangular table, marble-made from the looks of it, its rim garnished with traced, golden lilies. The table's beauty, however, was secondary to the intensely drool-inspiring spread on the table--there was an entire roasted pig at the center, its skin a mirror-brown lacquer dusted with fragrant spices, still sighing a thin wisp of steam. It looked edible enough to be stolen from a painting.

  On either of its ends were bowls of hot soup--one bowl brimmed with bright, shredded greens, silvered roots, and pearl-like grains of rice; the other held chunky braised meat swimming in a dark, savory broth that clung to the ladle when lifted. Further on, there was a variety of potatoes: there were mashed, roasted, and boiled, with a few small pots of what looked like sour cream sitting just beside them.

  A low clay platter carried thin, rosy slices of lamb fanned around bones from which the meat seemed to fall on its own. On the opposite end of the table, a deep vegetable stew offered a kinder, greener note: thick pieces of carrot and pepper bobbed in a rich, herb-scented juice.

  Cold plates lined the table edges: aged cheeses with oily rinds, soft creams, neat slices of cured salami and dried beef, and cups of goat milk whose tang permeated the air (I could smell that thing from anywhere). Beside them were steaming trays of rice--plain white and another studded with chopped herbs--pillowy dumplings, hand-pulled noodles that gleamed with a light sauce, and a scattering of unfamiliar dishes.

  Drinks were as varied as the food: fragrant honey-lemon tea, small flagons of something that smelled suspiciously like beer, and tiny cups meant for communal toasting.

  It was... heaven.

  My hands involuntarily trembled, and though the kids dived in with beaming smiles, I hesitated.

  Would it really be as good as it looked? Food here often looked good, only to taste dry or to be nigh unchewable. What if I dipped in and found out it was no better than what I've been eating all this while?

  ... or, worse yet, what if it tasted as good as it looked? Could I ever go back to eating tasteless porridge and chewing on rough meat or grass?

  I swallowed, slowly taking a slice of the lamb meat from the tray and putting it over to my plate, my hands shaking. I scooped a spoonful of one or another kind of cream, grabbed a slice of bread, put it all together, brought it to my lips, and took a bite.

  ... hm.

  Heaven.

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  My grandma is smiling, gently rubbing the top of my head and telling me how special I am. Ah, there's Grandpa, dropping casual racist remarks that nobody was comfortable enough to correct him on.

  Everything was melting in my mouth, like it was ice cream.

  "Master, are you alright? Why are you crying?" Dai Xiu's voice woke me up from the dream, prompting me to realize there were tears streaming down my cheeks.

  ... was I really this desperate for a good, hearty meal? Looks like it.

  "Oh, just paying respect to the Madame," I said. "If you don't cry, she will think that the food is bad."

  "A-ah, really? Is... is that true?"

  "It's true," I nodded. "Why would I lie?"

  Honestly, I just meant to tease her a bit, but, well...

  Before long, kids were openly weeping--as though a competition spawned as to who enjoyed the food the most. Lao Shun and Long Tao were eyeing me with a certain sense of derision; Wan Lan entirely avoided my eyes, as though afraid I'd be offended by what I'd find in there; and Rayce seemed somewhat amused, even joining in the ceremony by forcing out a few tears himself.

  Luckily, when Lao Shun translated what was happening, the Madame seemed to not take it to heart and merely laughed at the absurdity, which, yeah, I'd do too.

  Nonetheless, after the first moment of spiritual transcendence that I didn't achieve by cultivation but by merely eating good food, I started scooping everything. I wasn't even that hungry before sitting here, yet I was fully prepared to go out, vomit, and come back in to eat some more.

  Not everything was to my tastes, of course--I didn't particularly care for most of the cheeses, as they were aggressively potent in aftertaste, from bitter to smoky.

  Similarly, I much preferred the lamb meat and beef stew over the pork--though the skin was marvelous, it was sort of like modestly prepared chicken. Underneath, it was rather... tasteless? Though, I suppose, that's why there was an assortment of things to pair it with.

  I really liked the dumplings and noodles--in fact, besides the lamb and the bread, they turned out to be my favorites. Dumplings, especially, were almost like figs in that they just fell apart the moment I bit into them. The meat inside spilled out and just coated every inch of my mouth with a slightly spicy flavor.

  It may have been my prejudice, but I really didn't expect this world--or, at least, this corner of the world--to even have the 'capacity' to prepare what were genuinely flavor-rich meals. I don't mean just tossing a few spices here or there, or using quality meat; rather, there was a clear and, more importantly, intentional blend of flavors that were deeply reminiscent of a lot of modern cuisines.

  If you took this spread and shoved it into a random restaurant back on Earth, I don't think many people would really know it wasn't prepared there. Perhaps the strange herbs that don't look like anything I've ever seen would give it away, but based on flavor alone, this was... well, amazing. Not amazing for this world--but just... amazing.

  "Senior told me about this place," Lao Shun said. "Madame here doesn't really take in the travelers--her husband and she used to take in stragglers, feed them, clothe them, and help them, which was how Senior came to learn about them. She's a distant member of the local Ancient Clan and cultivates the Path of Cooking. She may not look it, but she's probably stronger than all of us."

  ... hm?

  What?

  I quickly turned toward the old woman and used my Creator's Eyes--luckily, I only had to spend 200 points rather than a fucking billion, so, in comparison, it didn't sting... that much.

  Now, let's see just how much of a headache this one will cause me. Because, if I know the system (and I'd like to believe I know it a bit by now, at least), needing 200 points means that, at least in some ways, she's even more unique than Long Tao himself.