Chapter 1709: Have a Bite of Bean Paste Bun

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Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

As a chef, Bu Fang had absolute confidence in his dishes. Since those exiles did not want to eat it, he would eat it himself.

He reached out a hand and picked up a soft bun. White and delicate, it came in the shape of a little fox. Bu Fang had put a drop of honey on where its eyes should be, which glinted and made the bun look alive.

In the distance, Foxy, lying on Whitey’s shoulder, cried out. She widened her eyes and stared at the little fox in Bu Fang’s hand, which was as lifelike as if it were coming to life. She seemed a little confused.

Foxy looked carefully. She wanted to see if the big brother in Bu Fang’s hand was here to compete with her for favors. Suddenly, she froze, because Bu Fang held the bun and violently ripped it apart.

The skin of the torn bun was soft and fluffy like cotton and filled with holes, which were emanating wisps of hot steam. Shafts of colorful light shot out from the bun as well, flas.h.i.+ng brilliantly.

Foxy was startled. She jumped, rolled, crawled on Whitey’s shoulder, and finally hugged its head, s.h.i.+vering in fear.

‘It’s so scary! That big brother who tries to compete with me for favors is ripped apart just like that! And he is eaten by Bu Fang… This world is so horrible! Are all good-looking foxes to be eaten?’

Foxy could not help but feel sad for her future. It seemed that she needed to keep her distance from Bu Fang.

Bu Fang grabbed the bun and took a deep breath. A strong scent of bean paste wafted out of it and burrowed into his nostrils. The feeling was wonderful.

Just from the scent alone, Bu Fang could already sense the vast amount of power contained in the bean paste. It contained the power of all kinds of Laws, even the power of Soul Demons. It was very peculiar.

‘So this is the power of the bean Niu Hansan was talking about?’ Bu Fang thought to himself. Then, he closed his eyes, shoved the bun into his mouth, and took a bite.

The first thing he bit into was the soft, fluffy skin. Made of divine wheat of the finest quality, not only was the skin fluffy and fragrance, but it also had a sweet taste and a silky smooth texture.

After that, he came to the bean paste. The colorful bean paste was sticky, but it did not attach to his teeth. When he bit into it, he felt a coa.r.s.e texture like that of fine sand, and a sweet taste exploded in an instant. The sweetness was just right, flowing slowly through his heart like a stream.

Bu Fang enjoyed the taste. After taking a bite of the bun, he felt as if his whole being had been uplifted. A wave of invisible energy spun rapidly and moved inside him.

Suddenly, Bu Fang opened his eyes, lifted his hand, and gave the arm a look. The curse power, which was crawling on the arm, began to be slowly suppressed. The various energies contained in the bean paste were a great torment to the curse power.

Soon, the curse power was compressed into a corner and no longer moved. Bu Fang did not expect this. He could not believe that the bean paste buns actually had a suppressing effect on the curse power.

This was a pleasant surprise. Its discovery gave Bu Fang more confidence. Perhaps, this bean paste bun could find the breach in the hopeless situation and violently rip it into a huge opening!

He shoved the remaining bun into his mouth, chewed, swallowed. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

In the distance, the man clasped his hands behind his back as if he was looking down on the world. He had everything in his grasp, and he was bound to be victorious. The chef who fought against him would definitely lose. How could the latter win? With those strange buns?

The man sneered. Those exiles craved his food, and they would even die for it. What reason did they have to eat that bun? And what was so special about the bun that could attract them?

No one expected Bu Fang to win because it was not a fair fight from the start. The Queen’s purpose was to completely destroy this chef.

The cursed dragon on the man’s wooden cart kept climbing. It had broken through the mark of three hundred feet. If it continued to rise, Bu Fang would not have any possibility to win.

There were one thousand exiles, so the maximum height a cursed dragon could reach was one thousand feet. If any side reached five hundred feet first, then the compet.i.tion was over.

It was simply impossible for Bu Fang to launch a desperate counterattack. In fact, he could not even get a wisp of curse power.

The n.o.bles watching the image in the fighting pit were all sneering. Their only antic.i.p.ation now was to witness the chef being defeated, banished by the Queen by having his soul extracted, and sealed up forever.

However, the chef seemed to be very calm—he was leisurely eating a bun. No one in Void City ate food because the Queen hated chefs. So these n.o.bles had not had food in a long time.

In their opinion, only those disgusting bugs in District D would eat food. At their level, not eating anything would not cause any problem. Their power would not be affected even if they did not eat for tens of thousands of years.

…

Bu Fang finished a bean paste bun. The feeling of satiety made him happy. Sometimes happiness was as simple as eating a bun or even drinking a gla.s.s of water.

His wooden cart was empty. None of the exiles came to him. They were all crowding around the man’s wooden cart, kneeling and licking like a bunch of mad dogs that had not been fed for countless years. Even the tiny drops of the dark cuisine that fell on the ground were fought by countless people.

However, perhaps overly crowded, some people did not get the dark cuisine. Their eyes were red as they crazily packed beneath the cart, and fights broke out between them.

For a moment, terrible energy blasts flew back and forth. Some weaker exiles were knocked flying away and fell far away, while others looked like savage beasts.

The man watched indifferently. The n.o.bles, on the other hand, were laughing frantically. It all seemed like a farce to them.

Bu Fang frowned at these people. Suddenly, he grabbed a bun, took a step, and jumped down from the wooden cart. His das.h.i.+ng appearance caused many people to freeze.

“What is this guy trying to do?”

“Is this chef crazy?”

Bu Fang landed on the cold ground and walked step by step toward the distance. Soon, he came up to the crowded exiles.

Standing on the wooden cart, the man looked down coldly at Bu Fang with disdain and arrogance in his eyes.

Bu Fang returned the look with an expressionless nod. Then, he took the bun, walked up to an exile who was thrown away, and lightly patted the man on the shoulder.

The exile jerked his head up and stared at Bu Fang with a pair of red eyes. “I want to eat… I want to eat!” he said crazily, clutching Bu Fang’s hand.

“Alright, alright… Here’s something for you to eat.” Bu Fang nodded and flicked his finger. Immediately, the bean paste bun was shoved into the exile’s mouth.

“Hmm?” The exile’s expression changed dramatically. He subconsciously thought he had eaten that dark cuisine, and his face beamed with joy. His jaws moved rapidly as he chewed. A few moments later, he began to chew slower and slower, and his eyes became glazed over.

‘Hmm… Why does this taste so… strange?’ The exile glanced at Bu Fang.

Bu Fang patted him on the shoulder as the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. With his hands clasped behind him, he walked casually toward his wooden cart.

The exile chewed faster again. It was delicious. The sweet taste had moved him, who had been banished to Void City for countless years. His heart, which was as still as a pool of dead water, suddenly shrank. Then, it expanded, and a vast amount of life force poured out of it.

This was a long-lost taste. The exile looked at his arm. The curse power on his wrist began to keep churning. As soon as he ate the bun, the savage curse power that had tortured him every day like a poisonous snake began to melt like snow in summer.

Unlike the dark cuisine that only suppressed the curse power and was, in fact, a slow death, the bean paste bun was truly melting the curse! It brought him a refres.h.i.+ng sensation that he had never felt before, as if a spring breeze had blown over him.

The exile glanced over his shoulder at Bu Fang’s wooden cart. Then, without hesitation, he crazily rushed toward it, crawling and rolling! Eat… He still wanted to eat! He had gone mad. In a flash, he came before the cart. His eyes were full of desire.

Bu Fang flicked his finger. A bunny-shaped bun immediately flew into the exile’s hand. The exile took the delicate white bun with his dirty and black hands, holding it carefully as if he was holding his hope.

The hot bun brought him a long-lost warmth. Its white skin was covered with dark palm prints, but the exile did not mind at all. He lifted the bun and took a bite.

Hot steam and colorful light enveloped him in an instant. The exile felt he was reborn. Tears trickled down his face and fell to the ground.

One bite, two bites, three bites… Soon, the whole bun was shoved into his mouth. He dropped to his knees and burst into tears. The curse power in him was almost completely gone, and the gloom that enveloped him vanished in a flash.

He was touched, and tears kept trickling down his cheeks. He threw his head back, opened his mouth, and roared excitedly. His voice contained too many things…

He might be an evil man and have done something unpardonable tens of thousands of years ago, which caused his universe to banish him, but from the bean paste bun just now, he felt the meaning of his existence.

In the distance, the exiles who knelt in front of the man’s wooden cart that carried the dark cuisine were all attracted by the roar. They seemed less crazy now. Many carefully glanced over their shoulders and looked at the only exile who knelt before Bu Fang’s wooden cart.

The exile’s face was covered with tears, and his body… emanated a warm feeling like that of the morning sun. Meanwhile, a wisp of curse power appeared on Bu Fang’s wooden cart.

The corners of Bu Fang’s mouth twitched slightly as he looked at the curse power. “The miracle… starts now,” he murmured.

The appearance of this wisp of curse power stunned the n.o.bles and Countess Xia Qiu. Nethery was calm, but the n.o.blewoman’s pupils constricted.

As the d.u.c.h.ess of District A, the n.o.blewoman might not understand the madness of these exiles for the dark cuisine, but she knew that this chef must have something up his sleeves to be able to s.n.a.t.c.h a wisp of curse power from the dark cuisine.

The man’s pupils constricted. He could not believe that Bu Fang had s.n.a.t.c.hed what should be his from his dark cuisine. Even the old man watching from outside was struck dumb, his face incredulous.

The curse power of the exile kneeling in front of Bu Fang’s wooden cart faded away. In that instant, all the other exiles fixed their eyes on him. They felt as if a wave washed over them in a flash.

The next moment, a deafening roar erupted in the fighting pit. The exiles all jumped to their feet and crazily rushed toward Bu Fang’s wooden cart.

The miracle was about to begin.