Chapter 995: Cook

If one were to name the most dazzling presence in the Buddhist Kingdom today, it would undoubtedly be Lord Meng, who yearned for the Dharma, harbored benevolence in his heart, and had only recently arrived in this sacred realm.

To capture the zealots of the Unfeeling Sect, Lord Meng had unleashed a display of majestic power across the Buddhist Kingdom, awe-inspiring and grand; even in this land of sparse communication, the news of his exploits spread like wildfire through the domain.

In contrast, the tidings of Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou participating in the Bathing Buddha Festival at Kaifang City remained a rumor confined to a mere handful of settlements, utterly eclipsed and unnoticed.

The more Lord Meng pondered, the more he felt that Yun Zhi’s youngest junior brother was a youth of exceptional promise, providing him with such a splendid opportunity upon his very first visit to the Buddhist Kingdom.

“Were it not for Daoist Yun Zhi guarding him so fiercely, I would have dragged him into our Meng Clan by any means necessary.”

“Ah, forget it, no use dwelling on such things.” Lord Meng shook his head, casting aside those vexing thoughts so that he might fully savor his stay in the Buddhist Kingdom.

“Well, Xiao Ming, carry on with your affairs; I shall resume my hunt.” Lord Meng thoroughly relished the sensation of being revered and prostrated before; it was an intoxicating feeling.

The last time he had enjoyed such treatment was during his conquests of the world, a hundred thousand years ago.

Master Ming Yu could see right through him; Lord Meng was genuinely and entirely devoted to the twin pursuits of capturing the Unfeeling Sect and manifesting his glory before the masses.

This suited the temple well; it was best he did not linger too long at their Western Heaven Temple, lest he discern the true foundation upon which it rested and stir up needless trouble.

…

Heavenly King City, one of the twelve supreme metropolises of the Buddhist Kingdom, boasted an abbot of the Heavenly King Temple who possessed a cultivation at the mid-stage of the Tribulation Transcendence Realm, a man of profound Buddhist wisdom and extraordinary might.

Dark clouds pressed heavily upon the city as a torrential downpour fell; Lord Meng arrived at Heavenly King City, strolling through the rain without a single drop touching his form, reflecting upon the memories he had extracted through soul-searching.

Ever since Daoist Bu Yu broke through to the Tribulation Transcendence Realm and captured a vice-cult leader of the Unfeeling Sect, the Great Xia Empire had launched a massive crackdown, wiping out the low and mid-tier echelons entirely, leaving only the high-ranking members to linger on the brink of ruin.

Fearing a total annihilation by Great Xia, the upper echelons had adopted a system of one-way communication: the cult leader issued orders to the vice-cult leaders, who in turn commanded the elders.

Yet, on occasion, elders would still communicate privately amongst themselves for various personal reasons.

From the memories of the Unfeeling Sect elder he had previously apprehended, Lord Meng learned that an elder of the sect lay hidden within Heavenly King City.

“This shall be the place.”

Lord Meng turned into a narrow alleyway, deep within which sat a dilapidated little shop that did not even possess a name.

According to Lord Meng’s vast experience in seeking out fine cuisine, it was precisely these secluded spots and ruined taverns that frequently concealed culinary wonders capable of astonishing the soul.

Lord Meng sent a divine transmission to several Tribulation Transcendence patriarchs of the Meng Clan: “Drive the quarry toward my position shortly, and you need not concern yourselves with what follows.”

“Understood!” the patriarchs of the Meng Clan replied in unison through their thoughts.

With a smile, Lord Meng stepped into the establishment; unlike its filthy exterior, the interior of the shop was immaculate and orderly, evoking a sense of deep comfort.

He scanned the room but found no menu, which only solidified his conviction that the proprietor of this establishment must be a hidden master.

“Proprietor, what specialties do you serve here?” Lord Meng called out toward the rear kitchen.

Hearing a customer’s voice, a chef-maid clad in a gray skirt parted the curtain and stepped out from the kitchen, holding a spatula in her hand.

Lord Meng froze the moment his eyes fell upon her.

Her features were exquisite, as though meticulously carved by a master artisan, possessing a breathtaking elegance that could steal one’s breath away.

Lord Meng was secretly astonished that such a small place could harbor a chef-maid of such peerless beauty; even Zhui Yue, hailed as the realm’s foremost beauty a hundred thousand years ago, would seem eclipsed beside her, and only Yun Zhi could stand as her equal.

Furthermore, the aura she exuded was remarkably similar to Yun Zhi’s—cold, detached, and utterly forbidding to strangers.

Lord Meng smiled inwardly, thinking it would be quite grand to manifest his majesty before this beautiful chef-maid.

“Proprietor, do you have a menu here?”

“No. My cooking is entirely random. Do you wish to eat or not?” Facing a rare guest, the chef-maid showed not a hint of warmth, her tone freezing and distant, pushing people a thousand miles away.

“Then bring me a serving.” Lord Meng paid no mind to her demeanor.

“Very well.” The chef-maid said nothing more, turning to re-enter the kitchen, from which the rhythmic, heavy thuds of a chopping knife soon echoed.

Before long, a savory aroma wafted from the back, and the chef-maid emerged bearing a plate of thick puree and a bowl of rice.

The fragrance emanated precisely from that puree.

Lord Meng straightened his posture slightly to show his respect for fine food; he had tasted many purees in his time, yet none smelled quite as alluring as this one.

Lord Meng sampled a spoonful of the puree, but his face instantly soured, and with a heavy retch, he spat it out.

“Why is this so salty? Just how much salt did you put in this!?”

In all his hundred thousand years of life, Lord Meng had never tasted anything so utterly repulsive!

The chef-maid gave a cold snort. “Devoid of taste.”

“I…”

Lord Meng disdained to lower himself to the level of a mortal; he smoothed his robes, assumed a poised stance, and quietly awaited his prey to walk into the trap.

…

The torrential rain continued to pour as White Soul, an elder of the Unfeeling Sect, dashed frantically through the storm, his mind filled with a sense of impending doom.

To think he had been cornered by several experts of the Tribulation Transcendence Realm; fortunately, he possessed a few life-saving maneuvers and had managed to escape at the cost of severe damage to his vital energy.

Clutching his ribs, where blood flowed unceasingly, he did not even have the luxury of time to tend to his wounds.

White Soul knew those Tribulation Transcendence experts were still within Heavenly King City, using their divine sense to scour the area for him, forcing him to disguise himself as a common mortal and seek refuge anywhere he could.

Unwittingly, he ducked into a narrow alley, deep within which sat a dilapidated tavern.

Driven to the absolute brink with nowhere left to run, White Soul could only burst into this small shop, praying that those powerful cultivators would fail to notice him.

Breaking through the curtain of rain, he crashed recklessly into the establishment, only to find a single patron and a chef-maid inside, both seemingly ordinary mortals.

“I am safe for the moment.” White Soul relaxed slightly, sensing no trace of a Tribulation Transcendence divine sense nearby.

“Are you truly safe?” A voice resonated right beside his ear, striking like a sudden bolt of thunder from a clear sky and causing him to shudder violently.

“Who goes there!” He bolted upright, his gaze swiftly locking onto the lone patron.

The patron was immaculately dressed, nonchalantly blowing upon the puree in his spoon as he looked toward White Soul with an enigmatic, profound smile.

“Elder White Soul of the Unfeeling Sect, I presume?” The patron maintained that same casual demeanor, yet it struck a primal horror into White Soul’s heart, as though he were being glared at by an ancient, monstrous beast.

“Who are you!” White Soul stood as if facing a mortal foe, a fine sweat breaking out across his forehead; as an elder of the Unfeeling Sect, he was supposed to be a man devoid of emotion, yet at this moment, he was gripped by a profound terror!

The patron set down his spoon and wiped his mouth. “Perhaps you have heard my name. I am Lord Meng.”

The immortal, Lord Meng!

White Soul staggered backward several paces with heavy thuds, looking as though he had seen a ghost.

“Y-You… You…”

Had it finally come to his turn to be captured by Lord Meng?

“Take your business outside to settle it; do not cause a ruckus in my establishment,” the chef-maid commanded with an icy finality.

Lord Meng turned his head and smiled. “Fear not, lady. With me present, you are completely safe.”

“Flaunting your pretense before me? Did you not understand my words? I told you to get out.”

The moment the chef-maid’s voice fell, she delivered a sudden, ferocious kick, sending Lord Meng flying straight out of the shop!

Lord Meng was launched directly into the pouring rain, tumbling through the air several times before regaining his balance, staring back in sheer disbelief at the peerless chef-maid who had stepped out of the tavern.