My Wife is A Sword God

Chapter 39: The Birth of Hotpot

Chapter 39: The Birth of Hotpot

In the evening, at dinner time, the whole family gathered in the hall, including Lan Ningshuang and Xing Sheng, who were also summoned by Qin Feng.

“Isn’t your miss coming?” Qin Feng glanced at the entrance of the hall but didn’t see the figure of the white-robed lady.

Lan Ningshuang shook her head. Her miss had always been aloof, and with the recent changes in the Myriad Sword Sect, Liu Jianli mostly preferred to be alone.

“Never mind, bring her some food later when it’s time,” Qin Feng said.

Lan Ningshuang wanted to reply, “Even if we bring it to the miss, she won’t eat,” but the words stuck in her throat, and she just nodded silently.

“Feng’er, what are you going to feed us? You’re making it so mysterious,” Second Mother was curious; the dinner table was still empty.

Qin An patted his stomach. As a martial artist, he already had a huge appetite, and after practicing with Xing Sheng, both of them were famished.

“Don’t worry,” Qin Feng smiled and then clapped his hands. Outside, the servants heard the pre-arranged signal and brought in plates of ingredients, placing them on the table.

There were various types of ingredients, sliced pork, thin slices of fish, Chinese cabbage, tofu, but everyone was more puzzled because all these things were raw!

“Feng’er, after all your fuss in the kitchen, you’re giving us these? And what is this big plate of furry skin?” Qin Jian’an stared, pointing at the table.

“Dad, don’t worry, the food isn’t all here yet,” Qin Feng said mysteriously.

As he spoke, a servant carefully placed a small stove used for cooking medicine on the table, right in the middle.

Just as Qin Jian’an was about to ask again, a strong aroma wafted into the hall, tantalizing their senses. In no time, two more servants placed a big pot on the stove, steady and firm.

Everyone was curious and peered into the pot, seeing the boiling red soup, its fragrance filling the air. On the surface of the soup floated many thumb-sized red fruits, unknown to them.

Lan Ningshuang recognized them instantly; they were Vermilion Red fruits, and the pungent smell seemed to fill her nostrils again! Her appetite, triggered by the fragrance, decreased by half in an instant. She was even planning on finding an excuse to escape.

“Feng’er, what is this red soup?” Second Mother asked, turning her head.

“This is the soup base I made today. You just need to dip the ingredients in it for a moment, and they’ll be ready to eat,” Qin Feng said confidently, but no one at the table moved their chopsticks.

This was within Qin Feng’s expectations. He took a piece of fish and put it into the pot, stirring it gently for a few moments before picking it up again.

It melted in his mouth, incredibly delicious!

Everyone looked at each other and still didn’t move.

“I almost forgot about the other thing.” Qin Feng clicked his tongue and shouted outside the room, “Qing’er, bring all those small plates from the kitchen table for me.”

“Sure, young master.” Qing’er responded, and not long after, a variety of small plates were brought to the dinner table.

Everyone watched as Qin Feng poured a plate of pork into the pot. Every now and then, he would pick up a piece of meat, dip it in the sauce from the small plates, and put it in his mouth, showing a satisfied expression.

After repeating this process, Qin An finally couldn’t resist and picked up his chopsticks. As he hesitated, he ate the first piece of pork. His eyes lit up, and his movements with the chopsticks became faster. In no time, he finished the entire pot of pork by himself.

“Big brother, this stuff is incredibly delicious,” Qin An mumbled with his mouth full, barely coherent.

Upon hearing these words, the rest of the people looked at each other, and finally started using their chopsticks. Soon, they couldn’t stop, except for Lan Ningshuang, who stood on the side, looking at the pot of bright red ingredients with fear in her eyes.

Qin Feng noticed her hesitation and handed her a bowl of hot tofu, saying, “Try it.”

“Brother-in-law, I think I’ll pass,” Lan Ningshuang replied stiffly.

“Just try a piece. If you don’t like it, I won’t force you. I’ll ask the kitchen to prepare a bowl of noodles for you later,” Qin Feng insisted.

“Alright then,” Lan Ningshuang picked up a piece of tofu, hesitating as she looked at the chili oil clinging to it. After a deep breath, she made up her mind and put the tofu into her mouth.

It was hot on her tongue, but the taste was fresh, fragrant, and slightly spicy, filling her taste buds entirely.

“Mmm~” Lan Ningshuang’s eyes lit up.

“How is it?” Qin Feng smiled.

“Delicious!” Lan Ningshuang exclaimed, and with that statement, she joined the ranks of those enjoying the meal.

The ingredients on the table were quickly finished and replenished, but the fuzzy thin slices of meat remained untouched.

Qin Feng didn’t mind. Beef tripe was usually discarded, they didn’t understand how good it could taste.

He picked up a slice, put it in the pot, swirled it around, dipped it in garlic and sesame, and tasted it.

The sound of crunching made everyone stop and look.

“Big brother, what are you eating? It looks good,” Qin An said, swallowing his saliva.

“This is the tripe of a Barbaric bull, also known as beef omasum. Second brother, try some. It can replenish the blood in your body,” Qin Feng explained.

“Barbaric bull?!” Everyone was surprised. It was a demonic beast, known for its tough skin, thick meat, and valuable bones and flesh, a favorite among martial artists. But wasn’t tripe supposed to be discarded? Could it really be eaten?

Qin An was half skeptical, half curious. He picked up a piece, put it in the pot.

“Remember, swirl it around in the pot seven or eight times, or it won’t be crispy,” Qin Feng reminded him.

Qin An hesitated for a moment, then followed the instructions, put it in his mouth, and started chewing. The crunching sound filled the air again, and his expression became incredibly animated.

“How is it?” their parents and Xing Sheng asked, waiting for his response.

“After eating so many things tonight, this omasum is the most delicious!” Qin An said.

Hearing this, everyone picked up their chopsticks, their expressions showing their excitement. In no time, the plate of omasum was empty.

Qin Jian’an was still not satisfied. “Feng’er, do you have more of this omasum?”

“I do, but not much. I want to use the rest to revitalize the Moonlit Pavilion, as its specialty,” Qin Feng said confidently. This thing was not only delicious but also enhanced a warrior’s vitality. It would surely sell well.

The others sighed in regret.

“Brother-in-law, what do you call this feast? I’ve never had anything so delicious even in Heavenly City,” Xing Sheng asked.

“I call it hotpot.”

After the meal was finished, everyone rubbed their stomachs and left.

Lan Ningshuang carried a small bowl to the pavilion by the lake and said to the figure in white, “Miss, this is hotpot invented by Brother-in-law. It tastes really good.”

Liu Jianli continued to gaze at the moonlit lake, not responding.

Lan Ningshuang sighed. She expected this reaction; after a warrior reached the seventh rank, theoretically, they could go without food for a long time if they condensed their blood qi into vital energy.

Since Miss returned to Heavenly City from the Myriad Swords Sect, she had not eaten anything.

Lan Ningshuang understood that Miss was disheartened and ready to give up on the path of martial arts.

“Miss, I’ll leave this bowl here. If you get hungry, please have some.” Lan Ningshuang placed the bowl down and quietly left.

Shortly after she left, Liu Jianli’s delicate nose twitched, and she glanced at the bowl of red soup, lost in thought.

In Jinyang City, in the residence of the City Lord:

“What did you say? Qin Feng didn’t die?” Ye Heng roared in anger.

“Reporting to Lord, this humble one saw it with his own eyes. It’s absolutely true!”

“That useless Wang, no wonder he was abandoned by the Tang family. If I had known earlier, I would have thrown him into the wilderness to fend for himself!” Ye Heng slammed the table.

“Father, don’t be angry. I have a plan,” Ye Luoting spoke up.

“Oh? What’s your plan?”

“The head of the Qin family, Qin Jian’an, has a restaurant in the central city called Moonlit Pavilion. It has been suffering heavy losses for several months, and they’ve already spent most of their money buying a new residence. If we continue to lower the prices of the food in our restaurants, Moonvlit Pavilion won’t be able to attract customers. Eventually, the entire Qin family will collapse, and then we can make our move slowly!” Ye Luoting suggested.

Ye Heng’s eyes brightened. “Good, very good plan. You truly are my son! In that case, I entrust this matter to you!”

“I understand, Father.”