Live Streaming Food Stall… But in Dog-Blooded Novels – CH129

Chapter 129

Staring at the steaming, fragrant porridge, Wang Peng was utterly transfixed.

—After over twenty years in the Eastern Base, he had never seen porridge like this.

After the apocalypse, the base’s factories began mass-producing all kinds of strong-flavored food enhancers. Even the blandest dishes could be made palatable with them, ensuring even those with no appetite could eat and convert calories into labor and productivity.

The most popular “tech porridge” in the Black Market’s dining district—the kind sold for ten credits at the entrance stalls—was loaded with these enhancers. Most had vivid colors: red, green, yellow. Each bowl was piled high with rice and large chunks of meat. It wasn’t about taste; it was about jolting dormant taste buds awake and filling empty stomachs. That was enough.

Over time, people came to believe that this was what porridge should be.

But the porridge before him was nothing like that.

The rice, simmered to soft perfection, had a creamy, milky-white hue.

The lean pork, cooked through in the hot porridge, was a fresh pale pink, bobbing in the snowy broth, lightly dusted with black pepper and scallions.

The aroma, too, was unlike the aggressive, nose-assaulting artificial flavors. It was fragrant—but not in a synthetic way.

It was the natural, slow-cooked fragrance of rice, scallions, and meat, mingling with the steam.

It smelled… special.

Comforting. It made his whole body feel warm.

Wang Peng couldn’t explain why, but just looking at and smelling the porridge made his stomach growl.

Gurgle, gurgle.

He swallowed hard and made up his mind. “Boss, I’ll take a bowl! Three credits, right?”

“Yep,” Jian Yunlan replied with a smile.

Wang Peng handed over his ID card, and the stall’s built-in card reader deducted three credits. After fees, 2.5 credits were deposited.

[Task progress: 1/500]

The notification chimed in Jian Yunlan’s mind, and his previously zero-balance ID card now showed its first earnings: 2.5 credits.

This was his first customer in the apocalypse!

Jian Yunlan perked up, grabbing a bowl. “Will you be dining here or taking it to go?”

“You offer takeout too?” Wang Peng scratched his head.

Most stalls in the dining district only allowed eating on-site. Few vendors were willing to provide takeout unless customers brought their own containers—otherwise, the vendors would have to spend extra on disposable tableware.

“I’ll eat here,” Wang Peng decided after a moment.

The reason was simple: he was starving.

The exhaustion from a day of missions hit him all at once. As Jian Yunlan ladled the porridge, Wang Peng couldn’t help but swallow another mouthful of saliva and strike up a conversation. “Boss, what kind of enhancers did you add to this porridge? It smells amazing—you must’ve used a lot, huh? You’ve got real skill, though. I can’t even tell they’re there.”

In the dining district, the rule of thumb was: the more fragrant the food, the more enhancers it contained.

Wang Peng meant this as a compliment.

“…”

Jian Yunlan paused.

What a strange question. Why would anyone add enhancers to porridge? A truly delicious porridge’s natural flavor would only be ruined by those odd additives.

It was only his first day in the apocalypse, so he hadn’t yet grasped the local customs. But adhering to professional ethics, he answered honestly:

“My porridge doesn’t have any enhancers. Just basic seasonings like oil, salt, and pepper.”
As he spoke, he handed over a freshly served bowl of porridge.

—But Wang Peng didn’t reach out to take it.

“N-no enhancers?” Wang Peng looked like his world had just shattered. His expression twisted in disbelief as he stared at Jian Yunlan, repeating, “Really none? Not even a little?”

Jian Yunlan patted his chest reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I guarantee it—none at all.”

Wang Peng: “…”

Jian Yunlan: “…?”

After a long, conflicted pause, Wang Peng slowly took the bowl from the young vendor’s hands.

The steaming porridge, fragrant and warm, had made his mouth water just moments ago. But now, holding it, he couldn’t even muster the desire to pick up a spoon.

His disappointment was palpable, his face darkening.

He barely managed to keep his expression polite.

…Just a minute ago, he’d thought this vendor seemed dedicated—his stall was clean and tidy, the food fresh and appealing. A place like this shouldn’t be in Zone F. But as the saying goes, anything unusual must have a reason behind it.

Now, Wang Peng finally understood why.

If he told anyone he’d spent three credits on a bowl of porridge with no enhancers, they’d laugh at him for being scammed.

“Even if you’re trying to save money, you shouldn’t cut corners on something this important,” Wang Peng grumbled inwardly. “Even the one-credit bowls of spoiled porridge in Zone F know to add enhancers—it’s not like they’re expensive.”

Even the numb, lifeless vendors at the nearby stalls couldn’t help but smirk at Jian Yunlan’s words.

“Look at him, putting on such a fancy show with his stall, but he won’t even spring for enhancers? And he’s charging three credits?”

“My porridge is only two credits. Sure, it’s a little off, but it’s packed with enhancers. Why don’t you come buy from me instead, boss?”

“Same here.”

Wang Peng ignored the calls from the others, but his disappointment only grew.

Could porridge without enhancers even taste good? Just relying on the natural flavors of rice and meat?

Before the apocalypse, people might’ve enjoyed such a light taste. But now, in this world, everything had enhancers. Food without them was so bland no one would pay for it.

Wang Peng couldn’t help but sigh.

Honestly, for a moment, he considered just walking away.

But… those three credits were his daily food budget. He was strapped for cash. And in this world, the rule against wasting food was carved into everyone’s bones.

After a full day of missions, Wang Peng was starving. The aroma had lured him all the way here—a ten-minute walk from the entrance. He was so hungry his vision was starting to blur. He wouldn’t make it back to the exit.

More importantly…

Wang Peng looked down at the hot porridge in his hands again.

The wooden bowl’s warmth seeped into his palms, spreading a comforting heat through his body.

Logically, he knew porridge without enhancers would probably taste like water—insipid and dull.

But his stomach growled insistently:

Gurgle—

Against his better judgment, Wang Peng picked up the spoon and stirred the porridge.

He hadn’t noticed earlier, but now, as the spoon moved, he saw how thick and velvety the porridge was—a creamy, glossy white with a shimmering layer of congee oil on top.

With each stir, tender shreds of pork and century egg swirled up from the bottom, looking impossibly fresh against the green scallions. The aroma was intoxicating.

Wang Peng took a deep breath.

…Maybe just one bite?

He couldn’t waste food, after all. And… it was hot.

Outside, hot porridge cost ten credits a bowl. This wasn’t a bad deal.

His resolve wavered.

The steaming porridge continued to radiate warmth and fragrance.

Finally, Wang Peng made up his mind.

He lifted the spoon and took a mouthful—

“…”

Nearby vendors watched intently, trying to gauge Wang Peng’s reaction to judge whether the porridge was any good.

But after that first bite, Wang Peng just… froze.

Head bowed, silent, as if someone had hit pause.

Then, he set down the spoon.

“That bad, huh?” a vendor sneered. “One sip, and he can’t even keep eating. What a waste of money—”

The words died in his throat.

…Because the next second, Wang Peng put down the spoon—only to lift the bowl to his lips and gulp the porridge down in huge, frantic swallows!

The porridge had to be scalding hot, fresh off the stove. But Wang Peng didn’t seem to care, chugging several mouthfuls before finally stopping to pant, his tongue burning as he gasped:

“Holy shit, boss! This porridge is amazing! So freaking good!!! I’ve never had porridge this delicious in my life!!!!”

That’s right—just one bite, and Wang Peng was completely blown away.

The porridge was thick, smooth, and velvety, the rice grains perfectly broken down and infused with a subtle, natural sweetness. The richness of the lean pork and century egg, the warmth of the broth, the savory depth—it was unbelievably delicious.

“Glad you like it,” Jian Yunlan said with a smile.

Nothing made him happier than seeing a customer’s delighted expression.

The surrounding vendors stared in shock, glancing between Jian Yunlan and Wang Peng, unable to believe this sudden turnaround.

…Was the porridge really that good?

Watching the steaming bowl and breathing in the aroma, the vendors realized—their own stomachs were growling.

But as the lowest-tier vendors in the dining district, barely scraping by, how could they afford to spend three credits on porridge? Even if tempted, they quickly dismissed the thought.

Wang Peng didn’t have the slightest attention to spare for what the other vendors were thinking.

Gulp, gulp.

After blowing on it briefly, Wang Peng eagerly lifted the bowl to his lips again, chugging several more mouthfuls as if afraid someone might snatch it away if he drank too slowly.

—Between swallows, the occasional bite of tender pork or creamy century egg was an absolute revelation.

The lean pork was remarkably fresh, with no trace of gaminess—just a savory, umami-rich chew that complemented the porridge’s mild, fragrant base perfectly.

The century egg had simmered to silky softness, melting on the tongue yet still begging to be savored.

But the most irresistible part was the heat. The steaming, near-scalding porridge slid down his throat and into his stomach, sending warmth radiating through Wang Peng’s entire body in an instant.

He’d spent the day on missions outside the base, exhausted in body and soul. A freezing rain had soaked his clothes and shoes to the bone, the damp chill seeping deep into his joints.

…Yet now, that blazing-hot porridge scorched the cold away, soothing his cramped, hunger-twisted stomach.

Every inch of him felt unbelievably comforted.