Live Streaming Food Stall… But in Dog-Blooded Novels – CH165

Chapter 165

At this question, everyone noticed.

Squad 11 had been at the front of the line, the first to get their porridge. Most had already finished, now licking their bowls clean.

But oddly, Yi Chunqing had another bowl beside him—carefully packed to go.

Some immediately thought something was off.

If it was strictly one bowl per person, how did Squad 11 get an extra? Special privileges?

But as they rubbed their eyes and looked again at Squad 11 and that meticulously wrapped bowl, the scene felt oddly familiar…

The porridge was bundled tightly, layer upon layer, as if meant for someone to take home. Even in the freezing snow, they didn’t want a single degree of warmth to escape.

That way, when that person finally opened the packed porridge, it would still be steaming and sweet, and they could sigh just like everyone else: “So sweet. So good.”

Many in the Eastern Base had seen similar scenes before.

…Back when the black market’s pancake stall was all the rage, Squad 11 had been daily regulars, always at the front of the line. But by the time Mu Dongsheng belatedly wanted to try it, the stall was always sold out, the owner long gone.

Then, Murong Miao or Wang Li would cheerfully appear, handing Mu Dongsheng a tightly wrapped bundle.

“Boss, you’re always so slow. Here, we packed this for you in advance—kept warm with our abilities, just like fresh off the griddle. Go on, eat!”

Every time, Mu Dongsheng’s handsome face would flush slightly with embarrassment as he accepted the pancake, nibbling at it and mumbling, “It’s good. Thanks, guys.”

The same went for the black market’s limited-edition candies, snacks scavenged from ruins, or the base’s suddenly viral sodas…

No matter what it was, Squad 11 always saved an extra portion, wrapped meticulously.

—So that whenever their slow-to-react captain finally wanted to try it, they could magically produce it and hand it to him.

Just like this bowl of porridge.

The only difference was…

This time, the person they were waiting for wouldn’t be coming back…

Under the crowd’s complicated gazes, Squad 11 didn’t explain. They simply ate their porridge in silence, that carefully packed bowl resting untouched beside them. No matter how much they loved the porridge, no matter how thoroughly they licked their own bowls clean, not a single one reached for that extra portion.

That was a bowl saved for Captain Mu.

In an unnoticed corner, the thin figure shrouded in a cloak froze for a long time.

By now, he had reached the edge of the crowd.

There were no lively lights from the porridge stall here—only desolate snow and cold moonlight stretching his shadow long and lonely.

He lowered his head, listening intently to the sounds drifting from not too far away.

At the porridge stall, the crowd had fallen into a brief silence, but soon, laughter and chatter rose again. Though trapped in dire circumstances, everyone was gathered with family and friends, sharing a delicious bowl of hot porridge. Even in this freezing apocalypse, despair felt distant.

But Mu Dongsheng was different.

He was alone. He had to be alone, entangled with the soul of a pollutant—forever.

His footsteps paused briefly before he took another step, ready to vanish into the distant blizzard…

But then, a quiet voice called out from behind him.

The aged voice trembled slightly, dry and hoarse, yet straining to sound steady:

—”Captain Mu… is that you?”

Mu Dongsheng’s steps locked in place.

Yi Chunqing and the rest of Squad 11 had been discreetly observing that figure for a long time.

Shrouded deep in his cloak, his face hidden, his voice unheard—to anyone else, he would have seemed like just another stranger.

But Squad 11 was different.

Almost instantly, they sensed something off.

A strange sense of familiarity.

Others might not have noticed, but they had been trained by Mu Dongsheng himself. They had fought side by side countless times, entrusted their lives to one another, endured the endless nights of the apocalypse together…

At first, they merely watched in silence.

Until that figure stood up and began walking step by step away from the crowd.

Yicun Qing could hold back no longer. Gripping his cane, he snatched up the packed porridge and limped urgently after him.

Murong Miao, Wang Li, and the others followed silently behind.

The other customers, at first unaware of what was happening, merely watched with curiosity. Most were too absorbed in the delicious pumpkin porridge to look up, slurping eagerly.

Like Wang Peng and his wife, who had no clue what was going on until they finished their bowls and noticed the commotion around them. Only then did they wipe their mouths and join the bewildered spectators.

Whispers spread through the crowd:

“Has Squad 11 lost it? Captain Mu’s gone…”
“Did they miss him so much they’re hallucinating? That poor random guy…”
“If Captain Mu were alive, why wouldn’t he return to the base and let Li Zhou run amok?”
“But… for some reason, that person does seem familiar. Though he’s way too thin, and that cloak hides everything—like he’s deliberately hiding something.”
“…”

While others buzzed with speculation, the eye of the storm was silent.

After speaking those words, Yi Chunqing fell quiet.

The members of Squad 11 stood with red-rimmed eyes, saying nothing, just staring at that thin, retreating figure.

Under the cloak, the young man clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.

…Upon closer inspection, his entire body was trembling faintly.

The conflicting thoughts in his heart were tearing him apart.

Did he want to admit it? Did he want to reunite with Squad 11?

Of course he did. He dreamed of it.

Every solitary day and night in the Death Desert felt longer than millennia. Only during the coldest, most unbearable nights, when the torment from Yun Wen’s presence became too much to bear, did Mu Dongsheng allow himself to miss Squad 11.

He would think back to the times they fought side by side, to the evenings after missions when they gathered around a warm campfire, drinking and laughing. He’d remember the food they always saved for him, wrapped layer upon layer in insulating cloth—still warm when he finally ate it… He’d recall how they teased him for being as slow as a turtle, never managing to eat anything while it was still hot…

Mu Dongsheng didn’t dare dwell on these memories too long, afraid they’d fade with repetition. Like a child clutching half a piece of old candy, he only allowed himself a taste during the bitterest moments, terrified that the sweetness would melt away and leave him with nothing.

But now, the scene he’d only dared to dream of was right before him.

Squad 11 stood behind him, calling his name. All he had to do was turn around and nod, and they’d be reunited.

Mu Dongsheng stood at the boundary between the crowd and the snowy wasteland. One step forward led into endless darkness, ice, and desolation. Behind him were friends beckoning him with steaming sweet porridge and warm lantern light.

But…

Images of a top-tier pollutant running rampant flashed before his eyes.

Yun Wen, who could break free at any moment, needed only to lift a finger to tear everything to shreds.

Squad 11 waited quietly behind him.

After what felt like an eternity, the cloaked figure finally moved.

The person hidden beneath the cloak lowered his head even further and mumbled indistinctly:

“You’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m not who you think I am.”

With that, he turned away.

He took a step forward, toward the snowy expanse ahead.

Just then, Murong Miao’s crisp voice rang out from behind him:

“Captain Mu, are you really leaving? What a shame…”

Under the cloak, Mu Dongsheng’s lips curled into a self-deprecating smile.

He knew Murong Miao was about to say something sentimental—maybe even bring up memories that would make his nose sting—to try and keep him there, to force him to admit he was Mu Dongsheng.

But he wouldn’t fall for it so easily.

He quickened his pace.

But he’d underestimated Murong Miao.

…The next second, the young man hidden beneath the cloak widened his eyes and froze mid-step.

Because behind him, Murong Miao panted slightly and declared:

“If you leave now, you’ll miss out on Boss Jian’s seafood porridge!”

As she spoke, she lifted a freshly packed container of steaming porridge.

—The moment she opened the lid, the distinct, irresistible aroma of seafood porridge burst forth, dominating the entire wasteland with its bold, mouthwatering fragrance!

Had Mu Dongsheng turned around, he would have seen the porridge in all its glory: a creamy white base, still lightly bubbling, thick and velvety from long simmering, with a glossy layer of rice broth floating on top, sprinkled with scallions… But the real stars were the seafood treasures nestled within.

Plump, juicy shrimp, tender crab meat, succulent abalone, sweet scallops—all cooked to perfection in the scalding porridge. The heat curled around the firm, fresh textures, and every bite promised to be so explosively flavorful it could make one’s eyebrows fly off.

Every member of Squad 11 and the onlookers were glued to that bowl, their stomachs growling audibly.

—They’d just finished the pumpkin porridge and were perfectly satisfied, yet the light sweetness of the pumpkin porridge now paled in comparison, turning into a mere appetizer that only sharpened their craving for this seafood feast!

It was this very bowl of seafood porridge that Murong Miao now held out toward Mu Dongsheng under the envious gazes of the crowd.

…Sheer willpower kept Mu Dongsheng from turning around immediately.

Listening to Murong Miao’s words, he scoffed inwardly:

Hah, as if seafood porridge is enough to make me—

Wait, what did she say?! Seafood porridge?!

Boss Jian’s seafood porridge?!?!

It smelled this good—how could he leave without at least tasting it?!

He’d die with regrets otherwise!!!

…That split second of hesitation was all it took.

A sudden gust of wind blew back Mu Dongsheng’s cloak, revealing his pale, strikingly beautiful face beneath the hood.

His eyes were wide, tears streaming silently.

—And in stark contrast…

His mouth.

As the aroma of seafood porridge filled his senses, a single line of drool slowly trickled down Mu Dongsheng’s slack jaw, unnoticed and unashamed.