Chapter 146
“Simple Porridge Stall… three credits a bowl?”
Wang Tao and Wang Rong wore identical expressions of stunned disbelief.
Wang Tao numbly repeated the words, her brain short-circuiting like a broken recorder.
Wang Rong pinched his thigh hard, confirming this wasn’t a hallucination.
Every sense—sight, smell, hearing, even pain—insisted this was real.
Yet when the handsome stall owner spoke those words, it all felt impossible.
In the apocalyptic, life-or-death Death Barrens, this man was pristine in his cozy puffer jacket, unscarred, with smooth, fair skin—just casually running a porridge stall with his dog like it was nothing?!
Even the dog looked pampered, its fur glossy and full, exuding an air of nobility.
And the porridge was only three credits a bowl?!
Factoring in labor, resources, and the sheer insanity of operating here, 300 credits per bowl wouldn’t be unreasonable. Yet he charged three…
Either this was some reclusive master slumming it for fun, or he had ulterior motives. But what could two half-dead, penniless losers like them possibly offer?
What was this guy’s game?
…While Wang Tao and Wang Rong eyed Jian Yunlan with suspicion, he studied them in return.
Their mixed expressions of shock, doubt, and bewilderment made him second-guess himself.
Was three credits still too expensive?
If they were stranded in the Barrens at night, they were probably broke. Could they even afford it?
Customers were rare out here—he couldn’t let this chance slip.
Steeling himself, Jian Yunlan flashed his most disarming smile:
“No rush to decide! It’s cold out—come inside and try a free sample first!”
With that, he ushered them into the dining area.
Weak from hunger and exhaustion, the siblings couldn’t resist the promise of “free samples” and let themselves be seated.
“…”
The “dining area” was just a small fold-out table with two round stools, cordoned off by a curtain.
But miraculously, once the “Simple Porridge Stall” fabric draped shut, it was like stepping into a pocket dimension—all cold banished.
The howling wind outside became distant, replaced by the cozy crackle of charcoal and the stove’s warmth.
A red lantern glowed on the table, alongside wooden spoons, bamboo chopsticks, and an array of condiment dishes.
Before them, the clay pot simmered on the stove, its savory steam curling into the air.
Wind chimes sang softly.
“Just a moment, your porridge will be ready soon,” the handsome owner said, smiling as he worked.
“No hurry!” they replied instantly.
This place was so comfortable, they’d happily stay forever—how could they mind waiting?
Settling onto the stool, Wang Tao whispered, “Are we really in the Death Barrens? This feels nicer than the base…”
Wang Rong nodded fervently.
The stools alone had cushioned seats. Warmth enveloped them, melting the tension from their bodies. One word: bliss.
The stove’s glow painted their faces amber. Wang Tao stretched her hands toward the heat, her numb cheeks, fingers, and even frostbitten toes gradually coming back to life.
Sitting in this warm, cozy little space, their desperate trek through the wasteland felt like a distant memory—something from another lifetime.
Just then, a deep, kindly voice spoke:
“Guests, please have some tea first.”
Wang Tao and Wang Rong turned—only to see a burly man in simple work clothes and an apron, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
Built like an ox, his skin dark from the sun, the man wore a sincere smile that made him oddly approachable.
Niu Tou set down two cups of pear blossom tea, then shyly added, “Made with snow pears I grew myself, simmered with rock sugar. It’s free—please try it.”
…With few customers around, Jian Yunlan had let Niu Tou step in for some experience. Coincidentally, Niu Tou’s pear tree had borne fruit, and he’d eagerly brewed tea to serve.
Wang Tao and Wang Rong stared blankly at Niu Tou, who stared back expectantly.
After a long pause, Wang Tao poked Wang Rong and whispered, “Is he… waiting for us to drink?”
Wang Rong nodded.
Hesitantly, they lifted the teacups.
—The white porcelain cups held golden-hued pear tea, brimming with chunks of snow pear flesh, its sweet fragrance wafting up.
It looked exquisite.
Wang Tao brought the cup to her lips and took a small sip—then her eyes widened.
“So fragrant… so soothing!”
The tea was delicately sweet, not cloying, gliding smoothly down the throat with a subtle, refreshing aftertaste. Though simply brewed, it perfectly highlighted the pear’s natural aroma.
After hours in the Barrens without water, this tea was a godsend.
Both siblings gulped it down eagerly.
“Boss, your stall is full of hidden talents… This pear tea is incredible! Where are these pears from? They’re so fresh!”
Finishing her cup, Wang Tao wiped her lips, savoring the aftertaste.
This tea alone was worth far more than three credits!
Jian Yunlan smiled. “Glad you like it.”
Beside him, Niu Tou beamed, scratching his head. “Wait here—I’ll pick some pears for you to take home!”
With that, he vanished.
Wang Tao & Wang Rong: “…”
Was it… really okay to eat and take?
They’d thought the tea was peak happiness.
But the mushroom and chicken porridge that followed rewrote their standards entirely…
“Guests, your porridge is ready.”
Lifting the clay pot’s lid, Jian Yunlan released a billow of fragrant steam.
With a deft scoop, he ladled the porridge into two delicate bowls and set them before the siblings.
Their eyes nearly popped out—
Holy golden legend!
Amid the rising steam, the velvety white porridge bubbled gently, topped with emerald scallions, minced mushrooms, and glistening shreds of boneless chicken, its rich aroma intoxicating.
Clutching the warm bowl, Wang Tao felt breathless.
After starving and freezing in the Death Barrens for hours, the sheer magnitude of this porridge’s appearance—who could understand?!
“Is… is this really for me?” She swallowed hard, hands trembling as she raised the bowl. “Dream or not, I’m drinking it…”
If this was a dream, she’d never forgive herself if she woke before finishing!
Blowing gently, she took a careful sip.
First, the heat—
The near-scalding porridge flooded her mouth, warmth instantly spreading through her body, thawing her to the core. Then came the flavor: the savory richness of chicken, the earthy depth of mushrooms, the creamy rice melting on her tongue…
“So rich! So fragrant! So velvety!” Wang Rong gasped beside her.
Each spoonful was a revelation—tender chicken, springy mushrooms bursting with juice, their flavors weaving together in perfect harmony.
Faced with such perfection, Wang Tao and Wang Rong lost all restraint, tipping their bowls back and gulping it down!
By the time they set their empty bowls down, their faces were flushed, brows dotted with sweat—but their bodies hummed with satisfaction, contentment, pure bliss.
Lost in the deliciousness, they hadn’t yet noticed the warmth pooling in their cores, repairing their nearly depleted energy reserves… For now, they simply surrendered to the comfort, craving one more bite, just one more.
In unison, they slapped down their empty bowls, pulled out their ID cards, and declared:
“Boss, another bowl!”
Jian Yunlan grinned. “Coming right up!”
“…”
The warm glow and laughter stayed contained within the stall’s curtains, untouched by the frozen wasteland outside.
As midnight approached, the Death Barrens’ winds howled.
A snowstorm loomed, ready to bury the barren earth.
In the darkness, twisted creatures lurked, poised to strike—yet something about the tricycle kept them at bay, as if fearing an unimaginable terror within.
Not far from the Simple Porridge Stall, atop a small mound, a gaunt figure sat half-submerged in shadows.
A tall man, his posture hunched, shrouded in an aura of palpable gloom.
His face remained hidden under his hood, save for a pair of eyes—cold, darker than winter’s deepest night—fixed unblinkingly on the distant, flickering light.
He didn’t speak.
Just watched.
For a long, long time…
So the gaunt figure is Captain Mu or the weird mutant that took a human cloak?