Live Streaming Food Stall… But in Dog-Blooded Novels – CH31

Chapter 31

Before long, the first serving of spicy potato fried rice was steaming hot and ready to be served.

The potatoes were golden and crispy on the outside, coated in a layer of chili powder and cumin, glistening with oil and bursting with fragrance. Just like the potatoes, every grain of white rice remained distinct, infused with chili oil that gave it a rich, glossy sheen, exuding an intensely spicy aroma!

Among the rice, you could see perfectly caramelized Chinese sausage, vibrant green scallions, and a generous sprinkling of white sesame seeds, all nestled between the crispy, chili-infused potatoes and glistening rice…

From the moment the rice hit the wok, gasps of excitement erupted from the front of the line. Jian Yunlan worked fast—his large wok could cook three servings at a time, and before long, six or seven lucky people had already gotten their meals.

Meanwhile, those further back in the line, as well as the unfortunate latecomers who didn’t even make it into the queue, could only watch the lucky ones with envy and jealousy, craning their necks anxiously, hoping they’d still get a chance to buy a serving.

On this chilly, rainy autumn day, nothing could be more comforting than sitting under a rain shelter and digging into a steaming bowl of spicy fried rice!

“Whew, so spicy, but so delicious!”

“This is my first time eating spicy fried rice, and I never expected it to be this good! The chili sauce has such a unique taste—it’s aromatic, spicy, and the more I eat, the more addictive it gets.”

“These potatoes are incredible! I’ve never had potatoes this good in my entire life!”

“I could totally eat three servings by myself, hehe…”

At the front of the line, most of the people were students from Beijing University, just like Ning Sheng. Many of them had taken the earliest subway ride and had been waiting for three to four hours.

But every single person who got their fried rice gave a thumbs-up and exclaimed: Worth it!

For fried rice this good, they wouldn’t just wait three or four hours—they’d wait thirty or forty if they had to.

Further down the line, Gu Xingshou stood waiting. He heard the waves of exclamations and joyous laughter from those ahead, and his dark eyes flashed with a trace of disdain.

A bunch of ignorant commoners.

He, Gu Xingshou, had tasted the best fried rice in the world.

—Not some Michelin three-star fried rice, nor the highly acclaimed Tang Banquet fried rice. No, it was that bowl of freshly made egg fried rice handed to him in his moment of desperation.

The reason he was lining up here today was simply because the “failure” of the previous few days had piqued his curiosity.

He needed to confirm something.

To confirm that… Ah Sheng’s fried rice was truly the best in the world.

He would not allow even a shred of doubt in his heart.

Gu Xingshou gazed down at the crowd before him, his eyes flashing with confidence and arrogance, his every movement exuding an undeniable air of authority.

At that moment, someone in front of him had just received their fried rice and suddenly exclaimed, “Ah! I spilled my drink! Does anyone have a napkin?”

With practiced ease, Gu Xingshou immediately pulled out a napkin, his face breaking into a genuinely polite customer-service smile.

“Please hold on, I have napkins right here. Let me get one for you~”

The words had barely left his mouth before his smile froze.

“……”

Damn this muscle memory!

The person gratefully took the napkin and said, “Thanks! You’re such a kind young man.”

Gu Xingshou felt an inexplicable warmth in his heart.

…What the hell was he feeling warm for?!

Soon, it was finally Gu Xingshou’s turn.

“I’ll have one fried rice,” Gu Xingshou said, hands in his pockets, his expression proud and condescending, with a barely noticeable smirk. “Man, I’ll give you one chance. Try your best to impress me.”

The people around him: “???”

Is this guy okay in the head?

Gu Xingshou, however, felt no embarrassment whatsoever. He was determined to see for himself whether this so-called legendary fried rice was truly as exceptional as people claimed.

After all, he was very hard to please.

—Just ask his personal chefs, who had been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night for days to make fried rice. CEO Gu had gone completely mad lately—not only had he abandoned his usual fine dining routine, but his fried rice orders kept getting more and more bizarre. One day, he demanded lemon zest, another day, he insisted on using only the finest Cantonese sausage. Yet every time, after a single bite, he’d smash the bowl and curse, “Still not as good as that damn street stall!”

Gu family’s private chefs were suffering.

Jian Yunlan treated all his customers equally. No matter who they were or what they requested, he always gave his best effort. Faced with Gu Xingshou’s absurd demand, he simply smiled and said,

“Alright, sir. That’ll be 55 yuan.”

Gu Xingshou frowned. “Everyone else paid 50. Why is mine more expensive?”

Jian Yunlan: “Emotional damage fee.”

“…”

Frustrated, Gu Xingzhou angrily scanned the code and transferred the payment.

Jian Yunlan skillfully poured in the oil, added minced garlic, potatoes, and rice. As soon as the chili oil hit the hot pan, white steam sizzled into the air.

The rain was getting heavier, its pitter-patter against the tarp becoming more distinct. A cold wind howled, but there was something undeniably comforting about standing in front of a lively food stall, watching the sizzling oil bubble in the pan and breathing in the rich, spicy aroma of stir-fried potato rice.

A few minutes later, a steaming bowl of spicy potato fried rice was handed to Gu Xingzhou.

The rice, soaked in chili oil, glistened with a loose yet full-bodied texture. The deep red sauce, speckled with white sesame seeds, looked incredibly appetizing. The potato chunks were perfectly fried—golden yellow, with slightly crisped edges, coated in chili powder, releasing the fragrant aroma of cumin. They were evenly mixed with the rice and sausage…

Gu Xingzhou couldn’t help but swallow.

Two days. Two whole days.

Ever since that night at the street market, every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was that glistening fried rice under the lights.

And now, finally, a bowl of it was in his hands—generous in portion, piping hot.

Gu Xingzhou could barely maintain his usual composure. He eagerly grabbed the spoon, scooped up a heaping bite of rice…

“So spicy!”

He couldn’t help but exclaim. It was even spicier than he had expected, and combined with the fresh-off-the-pan heat, he was forced to take a few sharp breaths.

So spicy, but…

So delicious!

The bright red rice had completely absorbed the chili oil, while the aroma of the savory sausage had infused every grain. The chopped scallions and white sesame seeds added layers of texture. As he took a bite, the rice was firm yet tender, springy yet soft. The caramelized sausage provided a crispy exterior and a juicy, rich flavor. As he chewed, the spicy oil seeped out, spreading through his mouth, flooding his senses with an addictive heat.

Gu Xingzhou gasped at the spiciness, but he was utterly satisfied.

The highlight of the dish, though, was the potato.

Each chunk was coated in the spicy, fragrant sauce, enhanced by the bold kick of cumin. The pan-fried, crispy surface contrasted with its soft and delicate center. Every bite melted in his mouth, blending perfectly with the spicy rice and adding a unique, carb-filled satisfaction.

With just one bite, Gu Xingzhou was stunned.

Born into privilege, he had tasted the finest delicacies from around the world. Yet, never before had he encountered a dish as perfectly textured as this.

He had always believed that the essence of fine dining lay in using the most exquisite ingredients—abalone, bird’s nest, lobster—preserving their natural flavors without excessive seasoning.

Never had he imagined that he would be utterly captivated by a simple, street-side bowl of spicy potato fried rice.

It felt… like once he had eaten this, there was no going back.

Clutching his bowl, Gu Xingzhou devoured the rice without a hint of his usual refined demeanor. The spiciness had turned his face red, beads of sweat forming on his nose.

He took big bites, savoring each mouthful, reluctant to swallow too quickly because it was just that good. The joy of eating it was so immense that he wanted to stretch it out for as long as possible.

This fried rice was simply too delicious.

Taste is deeply intertwined with memory. When someone experiences such a nostalgic, long-lost flavor, old memories hidden in the corners of their mind resurface.

For a fleeting moment, Gu Xingzhou saw his mother.

It was from the time when she had just fallen ill—a completely ordinary morning. Heavy rain poured outside, and the TV played an episode of Black Cat Detective. His father was warming up milk for him, while his mother stood by the stove, just like this, cooking a simple bowl of fried rice.

The three of them sat together at the table, their faces flushed from the heat of the spicy food. His father laughed, holding him close, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Gu Xingzhou could still remember the rich, spicy flavor of that fried rice and his mother’s gentle voice as she reached out, playfully tapped his nose, and said:

“You little glutton, always asking for fried rice. Now that I’ve made it for you, no wasting a single bite!”

At that time, the rain outside poured endlessly, yet Gu Xingzhou didn’t feel cold at all. Instead, he felt warm—like being gently embraced by someone, with a shoulder to lean on, free from worries. He didn’t have to think about anything; he only needed to be a carefree child, stuffing mouthfuls of delicious fried rice into his mouth, swallowing down all his sorrow, unease, and confusion along with it.

This kind of warmth—he had only felt it once more, decades after his mother passed away.

Just once, yet it remained unforgettable.

It was that time when he was cast out of his home, left with nowhere to go, drenched from head to toe in the relentless rain, shivering uncontrollably. In a narrow alleyway, a single light flickered to life. A young boy pulled him into a cramped but cozy space, handed him a towel, and placed a steaming bowl of golden, glistening fried rice in front of him.

That fried rice probably wasn’t even that delicious. But to him, it was a heat that burned into his memory—a warmth so intense, it almost scalded, making his heart tremble.

“You must use every possible means, regardless of the consequences, to trap that flame—to make it burn for you and you alone.”

A gust of wind blew past, and Gu Xingzhou heard that voice again. In his mind, a book appeared, its pages rustling as they flipped. On the cover, four bold words stood out: Paranoid Possession.

“Lock him up in a dark room!”
“Be more obsessive! A scumbag top can’t go soft!”
“Some people say it’s too cruel, but deep down, they love reading it the most…”

A cacophony of voices rose sharply.

Like a puppet on strings, Gu Xingzhou was driven by an unknown, supreme will, again and again pushing Ning Sheng into the abyss, making things spiral beyond redemption.

He regretted it. He was filled with sorrow.

Falling into darkness with Ning Sheng time after time, he had often indulged in a fleeting fantasy—if only this supreme will had never controlled him, perhaps they wouldn’t have ended up like this, bleeding, scarred, and broken.

But on this day, a fragile thread pulled him back.

…So warm.

The heat in his mouth, the aroma of fried rice—it was as if the frozen blood in his veins had started flowing again.

Gu Xingzhou had thought he would never feel this warmth again.

Ning Sheng no longer looked at him. And on the rare occasions when he was forced to, his gaze held nothing but disgust and hatred. But all Gu Xingzhou wanted was another bowl of that egg fried rice from that day.

Such a simple wish—yet the road to it had been long, winding, and treacherous.

Until today. Until this storm, after more than twenty years, fell once again.

Until, at this humble little street stall, surrounded by lively chatter, a stall owner who looked far too young simply flicked his spatula, effortlessly bringing his long-standing obsession to life—melding it into this glistening, spicy potato fried rice.

Gu Xingzhou’s eyes burned, and he lowered his head over the bowl. A faint bitterness tinged his tongue.

It was so delicious.

So why… why was he crying?

Suddenly, a deafening rumble split the sky. Thunder crashed, and the rain poured down even harder.

Cries of surprise rang out one after another:

“Ah! Quick, get under shelter!”
“There’s an overhang nearby, or this rain cover should do!”
“Protect the fried rice! We can’t let it get wet!”

Chaos erupted. Strangely enough, everyone was perfectly in sync, instinctively shielding their fried rice in their arms while scrambling for cover.

The downpour left everyone in a sorry state. Hair stuck to their foreheads, hoodie sleeves dripped with rainwater. Someone rolled up their pant legs, carefully cradling their fried rice while squeezing out the water from their cuffs. Another person cursed under their breath while shoveling food into their mouth at top speed, looking both miserable and comical. Others, however, kept their eyes locked on the food stall under the awning, where Jian Yunlan continued cooking the next batch of fried rice.

They looked at one another, realizing just how ridiculous they all seemed. Not the slightest trace of composed adults—more like a group of mischievous kids sneaking out for street food, only to get caught in the rain and end up looking like a bunch of drenched little brats.

They exchanged glances and burst out laughing.

“Haha! You’ve got rice on your face!”
“And you’re one to talk? Your face is bright red from the spice, and now you look like a soaking wet chicken!”
“For Boss Jian’s fried rice? Totally worth it!”

Holding their stomachs, they laughed heartily.

After being worn down by work and the struggles of life for so long, it had been ages since they had laughed so freely, so joyfully.

The moment the rain started pouring, Gu Xingzhou’s first instinct had been—the fried rice!

He had fought so hard to get this bowl. There was no way he would let some damned rain ruin it!

Snapping out of his daze, he felt as if he had just caught a glimpse of a long-buried secret, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

No matter—protecting the fried rice was the priority.

Without hesitation, he snapped the lid onto the takeout container, tucked it into his jacket, zipped it up, and hunched over, shielding it as he dashed toward the nearby shelter where the others had gathered.

Beside him, another person in a raincoat mirrored his movements, carefully protecting their own fried rice. Groups of people helped each other along. At one point, Gu Xingzhou stepped into a puddle and nearly slipped, but someone reached out and pulled him up.

Finally reaching the shelter, no one bothered to wring out their wet clothes or dry their faces. The first thing they did was—

Check on their fried rice!

Seeing it perfectly intact, untouched by a single raindrop, Gu Xingzhou let out a deep sigh of relief.

The person next to him did the same, visibly relieved that their fried rice had survived.

Gu Xingzhou had no time to shake the water from his pant legs. Instead, he immediately opened the container, scooped up a full spoonful, and took a big bite, sighing in satisfaction.

Here, in the midst of a storm, huddled with strangers under a tiny overhang, illuminated by a dim, flickering light, they were cut off from the noise of the world.

No work, no worries—just pure happiness, enjoying steaming hot fried rice together.

Spicy enough to make them sweat, making them hiss through their teeth, but each bite was utterly satisfying.

Pure bliss.

Mouth full of rice, Gu Xingzhou casually handed a napkin to the person beside him.

“Thanks, man. If you hadn’t grabbed me back there, my fried rice would’ve been ruined. You’re basically my lifesaver. What’s your name?”

The man took the napkin, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and mumbled through a mouthful of fried rice, “It was nothing, we’re all friends here, no need for thanks. My name is Ning Sheng, what’s yours?”

Gu Xingzhou kept his head down, buried in his bowl of fried rice, and replied without looking up, “The name’s Gu. Gu Xingzhou.”

Ning Sheng: “……”

Gu Xingzhou: “……”

Both of them suddenly snapped their heads up and locked eyes.

Ning Sheng had a grain of rice stuck at the corner of his mouth, a ring of spicy red oil smeared around his lips, and his eyes held the clear confusion of a bewildered college student.

Gu Xingzhou’s cheeks were stuffed full of fried rice, his chewing slowed into a stunned daze, and he couldn’t help but let out a full-bellied burp.

Ning Sheng: “…………”

Gu Xingzhou: “…………”

Wait.

This is so awkward—what now?!?!?!?

—Help. Help. Help. Help.

Ning Sheng’s brain started whirring at full speed, but the more it turned, the more it felt like it was tangled in a deadlock, completely unable to process.

Why was Gu Xingzhou here? Why was he under the same shelter from the rain? Most importantly, why… was his mouth also stuffed with fried rice?

The man in front of him, cheeks bulging with food, eating with zero regard for his image, and even burping from being too full…

Was this really the same gloomy, possessive, ruthless CEO of Yuanzhou Group, Gu Xingzhou?

The same Gu Xingzhou who, when he lost his mind, would do anything—including locking Ning Sheng in a room for four or five days without letting go, completely unpredictable in his madness?

The same Gu Xingzhou who had tormented him for so long, who haunted his nightmares, whose very memory used to make him nauseous with fear and disgust?

Ning Sheng’s expression went completely blank.

It felt like the world had glitched.

—What the actual hell.

Gu Xingzhou’s brain crashed at the same time. His mouth was still mechanically chewing the fried rice, and because he had stuffed too big of a bite in, it took him a while to finally swallow it down.

And then, he let out another burp—this time carrying the lingering taste of spicy potatoes. “Burp.”

Delicious.

…That’s not the point!

The point was—why was Ning Sheng here? Why was he under the same shelter? And most importantly… why was Ning Sheng also eating fried rice?!

Gu Xingzhou had hired countless top chefs, collected rare delicacies from all over the world, and placed them before Ning Sheng—yet he had always turned his gaze away with indifference, never sparing a single glance.

But now, the man in front of him, with a grain of rice stuck to his lips and a ridiculous circle of spicy red oil around his mouth…

Was this really the cold, stubborn, untouchable top student from Beijing University, Ning Sheng?

The same Ning Sheng who was distant and beautiful, as unyielding as ice, immune to all the temptations of money, power, and coercion?

The same Ning Sheng who had haunted Gu Xingzhou’s thoughts for years, the one he had schemed and waited for, the one he longed to keep forever at his side, the one he wanted to see nothing but burning devotion in those usually indifferent eyes?

Gu Xingzhou’s expression was just as blank.

Something was definitely wrong!

This wasn’t how their reunion was supposed to go!

They were supposed to meet again in an expensive Western restaurant, or in a damp, moss-covered alleyway. The unexpected encounter should have been bittersweet, intense, and heart-wrenching, filled with overwhelming tension.

Ning Sheng should have been dressed in a crisp white shirt, his slender yet stunning silhouette outlined in the dim light, his eyes slightly reddened as he helplessly averted his gaze. And Gu Xingzhou should have been in a custom-tailored suit, the obsidian cufflinks on his wrist gleaming, his gaze deep and unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line—three parts cold, three parts mocking, and four parts indifferent…

Gu Xingzhou would tightly grip Ning S?ng’s wrist, forcing him to meet his gaze. His eyes would be bloodshot, filled with so much possessiveness that it was practically overflowing—threatening to consume Ning Sheng entirely.

Amidst a series of intense, indescribable interactions, the scene would shift, leading to things that certain websites wouldn’t allow to be written. The next morning, they would wake up on a messy king-size bed—Gu Xingzhou lighting a cigarette, his expression lazy, while Ning Sheng would turn his gaze away in humiliation.

But everything described above…

Did! Not! Happen!

No matter what, their reunion should not have gone like this. It should not have taken place at a bustling street food stall. They should not have been holding boxes of spicy potato fried rice. They should not have been happily chewing and burping like this…

Why were the domineering CEO and the cold, aloof beauty burping?!

Everything was ruined. Completely shattered.

Gu Xingzhou stared blankly into the distance, looking at Jian Yunlan, who was skillfully tossing a wok of fried rice under the shelter, surrounded by an expectant crowd. The man seemed to be glowing with a divine aura—the God of Fried Rice himself.

This sinful man. The root of all this chaos.

Jian Yunlan’s fried rice—it was the true culprit!

But how could they possibly blame him? He was Jian Yunlan, the man who had created fried rice so delicious it could break hearts. How could he be at fault? If there was a mistake, it had to be the world’s mistake… No, it had to be the mistake of the person standing before them.

Gu Xingzhou and Ning Sheng’s thoughts aligned in eerie synchronization:

This isn’t Boss Jian’s fault—it’s Ning Sheng’s/Gu Xingzhou’s fault!

How dare he try to steal a taste of this divine fried rice? Does he even deserve it?! Ning Sheng thought in disbelief.

Why did he have to fall in love with Boss Jian’s fried rice too? It’s already hard enough to get a serving! Gu Xingzhou thought in distress.

The two stared at each other in silence.

A million furious thoughts ran through their minds, mentally cursing each other’s ancestors, but in reality, neither spoke a word.

Thirty seconds passed.

Gu Xingzhou took a deep breath, hesitated, and finally pointed at the fried rice. “Should we… finish eating first?”

If they didn’t eat now, it would get cold.

This fried rice—this sacred, delicious fried rice that they had desperately shielded from the rain—if it went cold, that would be a crime against heaven!

Ning Sheng didn’t answer. He simply turned around, clutching his fried rice, and silently continued eating.

He left Gu Xingzhou with nothing but a cold, indifferent back—one that also happened to be voraciously devouring food.

Gu Xingzhou sighed and lowered his head, stuffing bite after bite of fried rice into his mouth.

He had thought that after experiencing such a dramatic shift in events, his mind would be too preoccupied to enjoy the food—that the fried rice would somehow lose its flavor.

But the truth was the exact opposite.

…Reality had dealt him a heavy blow, but damn it—this fried rice was still so freaking good!

Each grain of rice was plump, distinct, and coated in spicy oil. It wasn’t piping hot anymore, but the flavors remained just as rich and satisfying. In fact, the crispy golden potatoes, having cooled slightly, now had an even better texture—a unique softness that melted in the mouth, blending perfectly with the chewy sausage. The layers of flavor, the spice, the crispness—it was an entirely new experience.

Damn it, why is this so good?!