Chapter Forty-Four: The 'Overbearing' New Golden Elixir

“Magical cuisine? Come on, open it up. I want to see how exactly this dish performs magic,” Wen Hui said, her curiosity piqued the moment Zhuang Xiaoyuan mentioned a dish that could perform magic. Having already tasted two dishes that needed no questioning in terms of flavor, Wen Hui’s eyes sparkled with intrigue at the prospect of a third, which apparently came with a magical trick of its own.

“In that case, allow me to unveil it. Drumroll, please~” With a bright smile and an imitation of tinkling bells in her voice, Zhuang Xiaoyuan lifted the mold that had been placed upside down over the plate. As she did, the dish within remained perfectly intact on the plate.

“What is this…? Tofu? Or is it black and white, in layers?” Wen Hui stared at the dish before her, unable to discern what was magical about it. On the plate sat a block of tofu, marbled in black and white. Admittedly, making tofu in two colors was a bit of a surprise, but only just; there was none of the astonishment one might expect from a magic trick.

“Heh, the real magic is about to begin.” Zhuang Xiaoyuan gently summoned her divine power, focusing it into her hands. Not being in her deity descent form, she lacked the preternatural speed to pull out all the bamboo leaves instantly, so she resorted to a temporary infusion of divine strength.

As she finished speaking, her empowered hands swiftly seized and discarded two leaves at a time. In just two or three seconds, all the bamboo leaves beneath the tofu were removed. And then, as the last leaf was extracted, the black-and-white block of tofu miraculously separated into smaller cubes, tumbling into the spicy red broth that filled the plate.

In that instant, as the large block became many small pieces, Wen Hui once again experienced that almost hallucinatory vision from earlier. She seemed to find herself within a tranquil bamboo grove, where, amidst the green, black-and-white pandas frolicked and played—a living tableau of pandas in a bamboo forest.

Returning to reality, Wen Hui saw scattered across the red, spicy broth the black-and-white cubes of tofu, arranged in a seemingly random yet harmonious pattern.

“Go on, try it. This is the legendary Giant Panda Magic Mapo Tofu.” Zhuang Xiaoyuan picked up a spoon and handed it to Wen Hui. Using chopsticks with tofu in such a dish would be troublesome; a spoon was the wiser choice.

“A giant panda, indeed. The name fits perfectly,” Wen Hui agreed, taking the spoon from Zhuang Xiaoyuan. Reminded of the vision she had just witnessed, she dipped her spoon into the tofu dish.

As the black-and-white tofu, drenched in red broth, entered her mouth, a torrent of flavors erupted—numbing, spicy, hot, fragrant, crispy, tender, fresh, lively, and sweet—all blending into a supreme harmony. In a daze, she felt transformed into a panda, frolicking in the wild, playing among bamboo groves and fishing by the riverbank. Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck, sending a tingling numbness to her forehead, the sensations of the dish’s heat and spice coursing through her body. As the numbing and spiciness overwhelmed her, a subtle sweetness rose up, soothing the intensity but at the same time making every sensation more vivid.

Of all the dishes so far, this one was the most intense, the most unforgettable. It wasn’t necessarily better than the previous two, but in terms of sheer impact, it was unmatched.

“All right, let’s start our meal.” By the time Wen Hui emerged from her reverie, Zhuang Xiaoyuan had already served two bowls of white rice—one for Wen Hui, one for herself. She placed the previously moved dishes in the center of the table, signaling that Wen Hui could help herself.

“We’re starting already?” Wen Hui hesitated, not picking up her chopsticks, her face puzzled as she watched Zhuang Xiaoyuan prepare to eat, bowl in one hand, chopsticks in the other.

“Hmm? Is there something you still need to do?” Zhuang Xiaoyuan tilted her head, returning Wen Hui’s look of confusion.

“What do you mean? Isn’t there still one last dish left?” Wen Hui pointed at the final dish, still covered, her expression saying, “Have you forgotten?”

“Oh, you could have just said you wanted it. If you don’t say anything, how can I know you want it? So, do you want to eat it? Or do you want to eat it?” Zhuang Xiaoyuan teased lightly, a subtle pride on her face. She lifted the lid of the last dish, and at once, a gentle golden light spilled forth—not dazzling like the sun, but soft as moonlight.

Within the mellow glow was a large soup bowl, filled with golden broth resting serenely within. As the golden light faded, a delicate fragrance wafted over, utterly different from the bold aromas of the previous dishes. This scent was like a fine vintage wine, growing richer with every breath, until Wen Hui’s mind was filled with nothing but this unique fragrance, all memory of the earlier flavors washed away.

“This is the final dish, the one to conclude the meal: Rebirth Golden Elixir. So, are you tempted?” Zhuang Xiaoyuan watched as Wen Hui inhaled the aroma, her eyes narrowing in bliss. She knew she had succeeded once again.

“Hmph, Rebirth Golden Elixir? What an elegant name. But isn’t this just ordinary egg and corn soup? Maybe the color is a bit prettier, the fragrance a bit stronger, the glow a little more radiant, and perhaps the taste is somewhat better. Only just a little, though. Since you’re so eager for me to try it, I’ll do you the favor and have a taste.”

Pulling herself from the lingering fragrance, Wen Hui responded with feigned reluctance to Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s playful tone, though in her heart, she had already accepted her claims. Especially when Zhuang Xiaoyuan looked so self-satisfied.

And so, ignoring Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s quip of, “If you don’t want it, don’t eat it. I’m not begging you,” Wen Hui dipped her spoon—still carrying traces of the previous dish’s broth—into the golden soup.

With one taste, she immediately identified the flavors: the sweetness of corn, the distinctive aroma of egg, the occasional hint of scallion. That was all. The taste was utterly ordinary, nothing like the sublime deliciousness of the earlier dishes.

“This… is rather plain. I’m not saying it’s bad, just that it doesn’t seem as delicious as I expected.” Wen Hui frowned, a little perplexed. The egg and corn soup was tasty, but it didn’t reach the heights she had anticipated.

“Yes, it’s quite ordinary—just a simple egg and corn soup.” Zhuang Xiaoyuan nodded in agreement, her smile unchanged, yet now carrying a hint of mystery. “But do you remember the flavors of the dishes you had before this?”

“Of course I do… Wait, why… Why can’t I remember?” Wen Hui’s face showed utter disbelief. When she tried to recall the intense, unforgettable flavors of the earlier dishes, the only taste that lingered in her mouth was the delicate freshness of the egg and corn soup…