Chapter Five: Nourishing Snake and Rice Porridge

A rich aroma spread through the air, and as the white steam rising from the clay pot gradually dissipated, the contents inside were finally revealed. The generous-sized pot brimmed with white rice, each grain steeped in a fragrant, milky broth, absorbing all the essence of the soup. Every morsel was plump and full, gleaming with a pearly luster as if each grain were a precious gem.

Nestled among the pearl-like rice, tender strips of meat added dimension to the white expanse, their presence making the dish more inviting. Bright green scallion slices were scattered like stars across the surface, bringing a fresh splash of color.

“It smells amazing, Uncle Feng. Does this dish have a name? It looks even better than anything you’ve made before.” Gazing at the white rice, the rosy meat, the green scallions, and the occasional golden cubes, Zhuang Xiaoyuan was almost reluctant to dig in.

Although the divine transformation earlier had left her mind filled with countless recipes, those memories felt as unreal as watching a hologram—nothing could compare to the real food before her. Especially now, after two days and nights without eating, even plain rice alone would have been a feast.

Basking in her praise, Feng Guoqing grinned in satisfaction, tapping the clay pot with his right index finger as he introduced the dish, “Heh, this pot of nourishing snake rice porridge is my masterpiece. After simmering for two days and nights, the tenderness of the snake meat and the fullness of the rice have melded perfectly. Go on, try it! This is the very culprit that kept you out cold for two whole days. Eat a little more and avenge yourself for being bitten.”

I’m not planning to take revenge just because I got bitten—it’s not like I’m a puppy, Zhuang Xiaoyuan thought. Still, her hands didn’t pause.

With a white porcelain spoon, she scooped into the mingled rice and meat, leaving a visible hollow in the smooth surface, the surrounding porridge rolling gently toward the indentation.

Unconcerned with such minute details, Zhuang Xiaoyuan blew on the spoon a few times, waiting until the rice congealed slightly, its thick texture just showing, before bringing it to her mouth. Whether as a boy or a girl, she had always been sensitive to heat, a “cat’s tongue,” and preferred to let porridge cool before tasting.

The moment the perfectly warm porridge entered her mouth, a captivating freshness blossomed. It wasn’t as rich as a pork bone broth nor as light as a vegetable soup—it was a fragrance of ultimate delicacy. As she chewed, the plump grains burst gently between her lips and tongue, releasing yet more layers of savory flavor.

The threads of meat, mingled with the rice, had lost some of their original savor but, infused with the unique fragrance of rice, took on a distinctive taste. Unlike the plumpness of the rice, the meat offered a smooth, elastic texture, yielding a lasting aroma with each bite, as if the gentle flavor would never end.

“Uncle Feng, you’re the best.” After savoring a second spoonful, Zhuang Xiaoyuan raised her thumb to him, her eyes shining at the explosion of flavor. “This is incredible.”

Uncle Feng was no professional cook—he’d never studied culinary arts. After all, a soldier who trained others and fought on the frontlines had little leisure to devote to the kitchen. Yet every meal he made for Zhuang Xiaoyuan left her deeply satisfied, in a way no one else could replicate. In her heart, his cooking was truly unmatched.

“If you like it, eat as much as you want. Next time, I’ll make it again for you.” Feng Guoqing chuckled, his heart swelling with happiness as he watched her contented face after each bite.

“Oh, and Uncle Feng, your porridge is so delicious—I actually know a way to make it even better.” After a few more spoonfuls, Zhuang Xiaoyuan, having scraped away a layer now slightly cooled, suddenly thought of a way to enhance the experience.

“Even better?” Feng Guoqing, noticing her pause and hearing her unexpected words, wore a look of puzzled curiosity. But his confusion was soon dispelled.

This time, Zhuang Xiaoyuan didn’t close her eyes. Instead, she focused all her attention on her chest, where a card floated at the center of the nebula of divine power. After her earlier transformation, the card, which had turned black, had already regained its original luster. Only two or three minutes had passed—certainly no more than three.

Perhaps it was because she had ended the transformation herself, or perhaps that was simply the cooldown. Either way, Zhuang Xiaoyuan was more than satisfied with a cooldown of less than three minutes. If all her cards reset that quickly in the future, she could only dream. But that, of course, was wishful thinking; after all, this card wasn’t particularly powerful or strange, just a supportive utility.

Its corresponding guardian spirit was the god of talents in this world—a god not known for combat prowess, but for mastery in some non-combat skill: the god of wine, for instance, who not only brewed extraordinary spirits but whose drinks could grant powerful effects to the drinker, especially those suited for battle. There were also the divine craftsmen who forged weapons, and the artisan gods who crafted jewelry.

Dispelling these stray thoughts with a wave of her mind, Zhuang Xiaoyuan resolved to test the card’s practical uses, cooldowns, and duration another time. For now, the important thing was Uncle Feng’s nourishing snake rice porridge.

She linked her spirit to the vortex of divine power within, drew out the card now glowing with restored brilliance, and, without hesitation, invoked the divine transformation. With a third flash of golden light, Zhuang Xiaoyuan became a girl with long orange hair—the possessor of the legendary “God Tongue” from the manga “Food Wars,” Erina Nakiri.

“The God Tongue— they say it conjures unique visions in one’s mind with every bite, offering the ultimate culinary experience. I wonder what that feels like?” Eyes flashing with anticipation, Zhuang Xiaoyuan picked up her spoon and reached for the porridge, of which nearly a third was already gone.

As a spoonful of pure white rice, entwined with meat and scallions, entered her mouth, Zhuang Xiaoyuan felt the world around her shift and transform.