Live Streaming Food Stall… But in Dog-Blooded Novels – CH152

Chapter 152

The fragrance from the steaming bowl in his hands was warm, rich—carrying the slow-cooked sweetness of rice, the earthy aroma of mushrooms, the savory scent of tender chicken, and a hint of scallion.

It was overpowering.

Though gentle and comforting, the aroma seized his attention with almost tyrannical intensity.

…It made him want to drop all defenses, grab a spoon, and take a bite.

If an ordinary person—no, even if Yun Wen were sitting here—they’d have surrendered instantly to the temptation.

But Mu Dongsheng was no ordinary person.

Something about this situation felt off.

This was the apocalypse—the deadliest hour of midnight, in the heart of the Death Desert.

Yet the environment… the warm charcoal stove, the steaming pot, the soft seat, the drowsy comfort of the hot towel, tea, and porridge—everything radiated a cozy, safe ambiance.

Wrong. Too wrong.

There must be something wrong—where there’s abnormal, there’s deception.

A space like this appearing in the Death Desert, a bowl of porridge smelling this good—how could he dare to eat it?

There were precedents.

Some high-level pollutants could alter human perception, making frozen wastelands feel like spring, turning toxic slime into nectar. Victims would gladly drink it, only to be corroded instantly.

So unless absolutely certain, Mu Dongsheng wouldn’t touch anything here—let alone recklessly lift a spoon.

He set the bowl down, forcing himself to ignore the tantalizing scent, and looked up, avoiding the steam rising from the porridge.

His gaze swept the surroundings.

As a top-tier mercenary, Mu Dongsheng could assess his environment even without looking.

This was a new space.

Outside the flimsy curtain was a frozen, brutal wasteland—yet the curtain seemed imbued with spatial abilities, blocking all cold. Inside, it was warm, smelling of burning wood.

A new… and safe environment.

“Safe”—a word so foreign in this era that Mu Dongsheng almost doubted he was awake.

Before him was a charcoal stove, the clay pot bubbling with porridge, and a gentle-faced young man—clean, well-dressed, too pristine for this world.

Mu Dongsheng knew: in these times, those who remained neat were either under powerful protection or hid terrifying strength.

Which was this young man?

His eyes flicked to the dozing dog beside him.

The fluffy, harmless-looking creature was the most threatening presence here.

An existence so fearsome it dwarfed even the high-risk pollutants Mu Dongsheng had encountered. He wasn’t confident he could last ten minutes against it.

Fortunately, it seemed disinterested, lazily watching him with half-lidded golden eyes.

“…”

Mu Dongsheng’s expression chilled.

That casual glance sent cold sweat down his back.

“Mao Mao, don’t intimidate the guest.”

The young man noticed the dog’s stare. Smiling reassuringly, he crouched and yanked the dog’s ear, whispering a threat.

He dared treat such a terrifying being so casually?!

Mu Dongsheng paled, muscles tensing to intervene. Even he couldn’t guarantee saving the young man, but he had to try. He wouldn’t watch a fellow human die.

—Yet the next moment, the unexpected happened.

The dog, ear firmly in the young man’s grip, didn’t rage as predicted.

It didn’t even struggle.

With a disgruntled look, it simply turned away and gave up.

Moreover, the dog subtly shifted closer to the young man, pressing its back against his ankle in a discreet yet affectionate gesture.

The dog: “…Woof.”

After yawning, it closed its eyes and went back to dozing.

Witnessing this, Mu Dongsheng was both shocked and horrified.

That immensely powerful creature had just been scolded so humiliatingly—yet it didn’t even protest and simply lowered its head in submission!

Just who was this young man?

How could he tame such a terrifying being so effortlessly?

Could it be…? Mu Dongsheng couldn’t help but scrutinize the young man again from head to toe. Though he seemed harmless, perhaps this unassuming porridge stall owner was the most frightening presence in this space?

As he studied him, Mu Dongsheng’s gaze met the young man’s.

Mu Dongsheng’s dark, piercing eyes locked with Jian Yunlan’s gentle ones across the short distance.

Mu Dongsheng’s heart tightened.

The air hung silent for a long moment.

Jian Yunlan smiled and broke the silence: “Honored guest, why not try the porridge first?”

To be honest, while Jian Yunlan appeared calm on the surface, he was inwardly anxious.

What’s up with this guest?

A bowl of freshly cooked, steaming-hot porridge was right in front of him, yet he just left it untouched!

Freshly boiled porridge was best enjoyed piping hot—the moment it left the clay pot! If left to cool, it would lose its freshness, and the meat might turn tough.

With his maxed-out culinary skills, there was almost no one in the world who could resist Jian Yunlan’s cooking.

Not just the finished porridge—if not stopped, some customers would’ve gladly chugged straight from the scalding clay pot, afraid someone else might snatch it first.

So… a guest like Mu Dongsheng, who could resist the temptation—not just refusing to eat but even avoiding looking at the bowl—was a first in Jian Yunlan’s career.

It genuinely made him a little frantic.

Sweat nearly broke out on his forehead. If not for his professional stall-owner discipline, he might’ve grabbed Mu Dongsheng by the shoulders and shouted: The porridge! If you don’t eat it now! It’ll get cold!

As these thoughts raced through Jian Yunlan’s mind, Mu Dongsheng was also observing him, his own thoughts in turmoil.

Mu Dongsheng blinked at Jian Yunlan, momentarily stunned, and repeated: “Porridge?”

It seemed that in this space, porridge held great significance.

This was a porridge stall.

At first, Mu Dongsheng had struggled to believe it, but all the evidence around him confirmed it.

…The young man’s dark, almost navy-blue eyes were beautiful and profound—not threatening, yet his words carried an inexplicable persuasiveness.

The young man nodded and tactfully emphasized: “If you don’t eat it soon, it’ll get cold.”

Mu Dongsheng: “…”

It was true.

From the start, an irresistible aroma had lingered around him.

Relying on his top-tier mercenary instincts, Mu Dongsheng had forced himself to ignore the scent—the one that eroded willpower and made defenses crumble.

But now, with the young man’s reminder, the dormant fragrance reawakened.

“How about I ladle you a fresh bowl?” the young man suggested.

Mu Dongsheng almost agreed.

But in such an unfamiliar place, drinking porridge handed to him by a stranger? His vigilance wouldn’t allow it. Even if served a new bowl, he wouldn’t eat—it was just a delay tactic.

Mu Dongsheng picked up the bowl of porridge, about to hand it back to the young man, when—for some inexplicable reason—he suddenly asked, “If you serve me a new bowl… will this one be thrown away?”

Before the young man could even answer—

Just the words “thrown away” made Mu Dongsheng’s heart clench, seized by an inexplicable panic.

Thrown away??

—Such fragrant porridge, just because he didn’t eat it, would be discarded?!

As if possessed, Mu Dongsheng lowered his gaze again, staring at the porridge in his hands.

This time, he couldn’t look away.

Amidst the rising steam, the porridge appeared thick and velvety, its snowy-white base infused with the savory juices of tender chicken, topped with a glistening layer of fragrant oil. The edges of the brown mushrooms curled slightly, looking smooth and rich—almost allowing him to imagine the piping-hot texture melting in his mouth, the rice and porridge oil dissolving instantly…

Mu Dongsheng’s eyes fixed on the bowl, pupils dilating slightly, tinged with red.

The stall owner seemed to say something else, but Mu Dongsheng’s mind had already tuned it out. Only one thought echoed in his heart:

Such a perfect bowl of porridge… thrown away… thrown away…

What waste!!!

“Guest? Guest?”

Jian Yunlan waved a hand in front of Mu Dongsheng’s face.

Only then did Mu Dongsheng’s gaze slowly refocus. “Wh-What did you say?”

Relieved he’d snapped out of it, Jian Yunlan continued:

“Guest, hand me the bowl—I’ll ladle you a fresh, hot serving—”

As he spoke, he reached out to take the bowl.

But his hand closed on empty air.

—Because Mu Dongsheng was clutching the bowl like a treasure, shielding it protectively against his chest. When he saw Jian Yunlan’s outstretched hand, he even leaned back slightly in alarm, as if fearing the young man would snatch it away.

Jian Yunlan: “???”

“The porridge… my porridge… can’t be thrown away… such a waste… that would be such a waste… no…”

Mu Dongsheng muttered under his breath, his eyes flickering with fervor.

The next second—he stopped hesitating.

Lifting the bowl to his lips, he began gulping it down in huge mouthfuls!