Chapter 1820: I, Bu Fang, Don’t Need a Backup Plan

It was a simple and ordinary meal, but in that ordinary was something extraordinary. Even though the God of Cooking’s dish was cooked with the finest ingredients and the most precious cooking utensils in the world, these dishes still suppressed it.

Bu Fang held out his hand and gestured at the table. The next moment, white dots of light began to converge rapidly in the air and soon formed a human figure. His face was blurred, exactly like the one Bu Fang saw in the dark space.

The figure was none other than the God of Cooking. As soon as he appeared, he came to the table, sat down on a chair, and said nothing. He was here only to assess Bu Fang’s dishes.

Bu Fang also pulled out a chair, sat down, and quietly looked at the figure. He did not care about the outcome of this test, which would decide if he would live or die, so he was not even nervous at all. Inside him, there was nothing but calm. It was a wonderful feeling. This was his final test, but he was even calmer than he had been in the first test. Perhaps this was because his mentality had transformed.

The God of Cooking’s head was shrouded in fog, which obscured his face. He grabbed a pair of chopsticks and picked up a dumpling. It was giving off hot steam, its skin crystal clear, and the filling was clearly visible under the light. From outside, this was just an ordinary dumpling, nothing special.

He opened his mouth and took a bite of the dumpling. As his teeth broke through the wrapper, a whiff of heat and fragrance wafted out and rose into the air. The filling was delicious, the cabbage was moist, and the meat was chewy. However, these were not the most important parts of the dish.

After the first bite, the God of Cooking’s body froze. It was a long time before he sighed. The dumplings tasted better with the sauce. There were nine of them on the plate, but he quickly finished them all. It was just an ordinary dish, yet he could not control his hand and stuffed them all into his mouth.

How many years had it been since he had felt this?

After finishing the dumplings, the God of Cooking turned his attention to the bowl of Dragon Whisker Noodles. There was a fried egg in the middle of the bowl. When he lifted it, a rush of hot air hit his face. He took a sip of the soup first. It was refreshing, but as it slipped down his throat, he felt a strange emotion.

The dish did not give him an amazing taste, and the ingredients were very ordinary. But when they were combined, they produced a taste that he could not describe, a taste that made his heart seem to melt.

Bu Fang sat in the chair and watched quietly. He did not disturb the God of Cooking. After taking a mouthful of soup, the God of Cooking exhaled deeply, a breath that was heavy with exhaustion and nostalgia. Bu Fang’s eyes flickered. It seemed that this almighty being was also a man with a story.

Then, he ate some noodles. The soft and moist texture made him nod repeatedly. He kept his head down and ate the noodles and eggs quietly, only slurping now and then.

Suddenly, Bu Fang froze. He saw golden teardrops drip from the God of Cooking’s obscured face, causing ripples to spread as it fell in the soup. He pursed his lips and said nothing.

‘Perhaps he has felt it now…’

The God of Cooking raised a hand to support his forehead and sighed as he ate the noodles. The sight of his posture filled one with sadness and helplessness. Although he was the God of Cooking, a supreme being, he now gave Bu Fang the feeling as if he was just a mortal, a simple man.

After a while, the noodles were also finished. There was not even a drop of soup left in the bowl except for a tiny chopped scallion. He gently put down the bowl, then picked up the bowl of rice and shoved some into his mouth with his chopsticks. It had a fresh aroma, and as he chewed, it filled his mouth with a sweet taste.

He picked up a piece of fried meat. It was cooked with thinly and evenly cut pork. As the meat went into his mouth, his hands began to shake.

There was emotion in every dish on the table, the culmination of Bu Fang’s five hundred years of mortal life. Such dishes might be more appealing than those cooked with the finest ingredients.

With the rice and the fried meat gone, the God of Cooking had cleaned up all four simple dishes on the table. The dish he had cooked was still there, but its glow was faint, no longer so dazzling. He leaned back in his chair.

Bu Fang did not speak and just watched quietly. What the outcome of this final test would be, he was not sure. He did not know what the God of Cooking was thinking. The almighty expert gave him a feeling as if he was an ordinary man of flesh and blood.

The God of Cooking tilted his head back a little. Bu Fang could sense a confused gaze looking through the mist at the sky. The gaze was full of stories.

After a long pause, the God of Cooking raised his hand and swept it across the table. The dish he had prepared disappeared immediately. “It was a perfect meal,” he said. His voice had become hoarse at this moment.

“Dishes with emotion are really attractive, but it’s a difficult path…” His gaze finally rested on Bu Fang’s face. “If heaven is sentient, it will grow old too. If you pursue the Emotional Path, you will age with the years… I’ve seen it through your five hundred years of being a mortal. It’s like a rule that simply cannot be broken.”

The God of Cooking stood up, put his hands behind his back, and added, “I just want to ask you one last time… Have you really decided to take this path?”

Bu Fang also rose to his feet. They stood together in front of the cabin, looking out at the endless wilderness. “I can’t be ruthless. There’s no going back.”

After a long silence, the God of Cooking laughed. “Congratulations. You passed the final test. Your dishes are very charming, and the emotions in them are touching.

“In the past, I didn’t understand this feeling. I thought being ruthless was the only way to be eternal, but I couldn’t be truly emotionless, and as a result, I became entangled in the mortal world and eventually perished in the starry sky…

“I hope you won’t walk into my shoes. Maybe you don’t need my legacy anymore, but I have to tell you that the Emotional Path is not so easy to walk. So I’m going to give you a backup plan,” the God of Cooking said.

Suddenly, everything in the cabin began to change. The world was collapsing and turning dark again. Bu Fang stared in awe. He knew that everything just now was not real, but they felt real.

‘He is worthy of being the God of Cooking, a supreme being in this world…’

Suddenly, a little light flashed in the darkness, then blossomed like a dazzling star in the night sky. As the white light grew brighter and brighter, a holy lotus flower appeared in front of Bu Fang.

“This is the Senseless Lotus. If you want to take a step back, you can eat it. It can make you forget all your emotions.” The God of Cooking’s voice seemed to come from a very distant place.

The next moment, a golden book slowly appeared. Bu Fang recognized it as the God of Cooking’s Menu. However, unlike the previous one, which was incomplete, this menu was complete. It emitted the aura of the supreme Great Path, causing Bu Fang’s heart to beat faster with horror.

‘Is this the God of Cooking’s inheritance?’

“This is the final inheritance… However, the dishes in the Menu take the Ruthless Path. If you want to inherit them, you must erase all emotions, otherwise your soul will be torn apart by its power.”

Bu Fang’s eyes narrowed slightly. Sure enough, the God of Cooking took the Ruthless Path. Although there was a hint of emotion in his ruthlessness, he was fundamentally ruthless. Therefore, if Bu Fang wanted to inherit his legacy, he would need to choose ruthlessness, too.

This made him hesitate. He had walked on the path to become a God of Cooking for a long time, and now, he finally approached its end with the God of Cooking’s Menu ahead of him. All he had to do was choose to accept it and he would be the new God of Cooking.

On the other hand, he had created a path of his own, the Emotional Path. But it was covered with mists and filled with too many unknowns. On one side was the path of his predecessor, and on the other was his own path. Which one should he choose? It was really a tough decision.

A beautiful lotus blossomed quietly in the darkness. Just by looking at it, Bu Fang felt as if his mind was about to be sucked away.

Mu Hongzi once said that the Senseless Lotus could protect him from a calamity. Was this what he was referring to? As long as Bu Fang chose the God of Cooking’s path, he would not perish, thus saving him from a calamity.

If he chose the Emotional Path, he would most likely grow old on this path and might even fail to finish it before he reached the end of his life.

The white Senseless Lotus was so pure that it could make people forget all their troubles. As long as Bu Fang ate it, he would be able to get rid of his emotions and desires, saving countless years of hard work. Which should he choose?

Bu Fang did not make a decision right away. Instead, he sat cross-legged down. The God of Cooking turned into white light and gradually faded away.

Bu Fang sat quietly, looking at the lotus and the book in front of him. After a long time, he looked up, and his eyes gradually grew hard. Finally, he raised his hand. A divine fire emerged and enveloped the lotus and the book. The scorching flames soon burned them into nothingness.

“I, Bu Fang, don’t need a backup plan.”

“Hahahaha!”

The world resounded with the God of Cooking’s loud laughter, which was tinged with a hint of loneliness. After going through hundreds of Hosts, the Host that finally came to him was one who pursued the Emotional Path. Perhaps this was his true destiny.

“I hope you won’t regret your decision today!” said the God of Cooking. “Since you have chosen the Emotional Path, I will give you a hand! I hope you can truly step on the top of the pinnacle!”

As his laughter continued to echo out, white dots of light slowly emerged and kept rushing toward Bu Fang, engulfing him like a hazy mist.

Bu Fang stood still and smiled. “The top of the pinnacle? Perhaps there is no pinnacle in cooking, only a higher peak after that…”

With more and more white dots of light appearing, everything in Bu Fang’s eyes was obscured by white light.

…

Bu Fang slowly opened his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering. Snowflakes fell from the sky and landed on his face. A chill seeped through his skin.

“I… I’ve been resurrected?”