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墨書 Inktalez
Qing Luan: "What do you take me for, Bai? I'm not some charlatan trying to put on a show."
"Hmph, just one dish, and you're acting all proud?" Fu Jun mocked with a dark expression.
"..." What pride? Qing Luan felt speechless. She hadn't done anything yet, and here she was being talked about like this. It made her feel as if she was being unfairly targeted, and she couldn't help but think: Am I lowering my standards by engaging with such petty people?
Regardless of Fu Jun's dissatisfaction, the competition had to continue, leading to an interesting scene. At first, Fu Jun was quite pleased with himself, almost feeling like he was stepping on everyone else. But now, his expression resembled someone who had stepped in something unpleasant—his face was grim.
After that little boy, everyone who came in headed straight for Qing Luan, completely ignoring the sullen Fu Jun. They praised her excitedly after tasting her dishes and left their tokens behind.
One by one they came, and Qing Luan felt the pace was too slow. The hungry look in Fu Jun's eyes made her feel exasperated. She suggested to Bai Song that they let five people in at once to speed things up... and thus the scene became a bit chaotic.
Some came for the skills of the Imperial Chef, while others were drawn by Qing Luan's unique techniques and rich side dishes. With the skills mixed up, no one knew who would win; they could only hold their breath and wait for the final outcome.
Time passed slowly, and Qing Luan remained cheerful. After several hours, she appeared completely unfazed, while the Imperial Chef, having received recognition in the palace and only cooking for the emperor and a few important ladies before, was exhausted from such a demanding workload. His face was filled with displeasure, looking ominously dark, making him seem intimidating.
In the blink of an eye, both competitors finished their dishes, leaving only one person remaining. When she entered, all eyes were fixed on her like wolves ready to pounce.
The woman was an elderly lady in her sixties with a unique aura. Her sharp gaze hid behind cloudy eyes; those unaware would easily be deceived by her appearance—just like Fu Jun. However, Qing Luan recognized that this old woman was not ordinary. She sensed a familiar strength and pride emanating from her and couldn't help but steal a few more glances.
The old woman ignored the voices around her as she looked left and right, seemingly unable to make a decision, caught in a dilemma.
"Old lady, hurry up! You're the last one!" Fu Jun sneered disdainfully. "You’ll never taste what my Imperial Chef has prepared in your lifetime. What are you still thinking about?" These people clearly had no taste if they dared to choose Zhu Qingluan. They must not want to survive in the capital anymore.
Seeing him win the competition without properly dealing with those who flattered him was quite amusing.
The old woman shot him a strange glance, then seemed to make up her mind as she clenched her fist and walked towards Qing Luan.
"Young Master," a Gray-Clad Man approached Fu Jun, whispering, "I just counted, there are exactly one hundred tokens. If that old woman votes for Zhu Qingluan, we..." Before he could finish his sentence, Fu Jun interrupted him sharply in a low voice.
"Shut up!" At this moment, bringing him bad luck was simply intolerable.
Seeing Fu Jun's reaction, the Gray-Clad Man closed his mouth and quietly stepped aside, not daring to say anything more.
"Grandma, what would you like to eat?" Qing Luan asked gently, treating her like a family elder and serving her with warmth.
"Noodles, they should have a good texture; meat, tender but not greasy; soup, fresh and delicious," the old woman did not show the same glimmer in her eyes as others when they saw so many side dishes. Instead, she slowly articulated her requests without caring whether others were annoyed. Her pair of eyes, worn by life's hardships, remained fixed on Qing Luan, waiting for her response.
"Alright!" Qing Luan replied with a radiant smile, responding cheerfully.
"Hmph, what can a lowly commoner make that is delicious?" The Imperial Chef scoffed upon hearing the old woman's requests. He believed that Zhu Qingluan's accumulation of tokens was not due to the noodles being particularly tasty but rather because those of lower status had no choice but to choose her to fill their stomachs.
Qing Luan merely cast a faint glance at him, a hint of mockery curling at the corners of her mouth. She then focused on her work without voicing any dissatisfaction.
"What a composed and steady girl; truly impressive!" The old woman thought as she heard the Old Imperial Chef's sarcasm. Seeing that Qing Luan showed no reaction at all—indeed even a hint of mockery—she began to regard her with newfound respect.
From the very beginning, she had been observing closely and noticed how the girl remained unperturbed by honor or disgrace, always wearing a smile that was refreshing—compared to her, Fu Jun's arrogant gaze and contemptuous tone seemed utterly insignificant.
"Grandma, the noodles are ready. Please enjoy," Qing Luan personally placed the bowl of noodles in front of her. Regardless of who she was, the fact that she could articulate such requests indicated that she understood the uniqueness of the noodles she made; thus, Qing Luan felt a measure of respect for her.
"Mm!" The indifferent voice did not express any joy at her personal service. After taking the chopsticks she handed over, she took a deep breath, then revealed a satisfied smile and nodded, saying, "The broth is rich and fragrant..."
Upon hearing her words, those standing beside Qing Luan let out a sigh of relief, fearing that this inexplicably appearing old woman would cause trouble.
The old woman ate some noodles, and everyone thought that the outcome should be clear now. Someone was counting on Fu Jun's side, and the same was happening on Qing Luan's side. Everyone knew that the final result rested on this old woman's shoulders. If she was not satisfied, Qing Luan would lose the competition. So when they heard her speak, smiles of joy appeared on their faces.
Things were going smoothly at first, but for some reason, after eating a couple of bites of noodles, the old woman's expression suddenly changed. She seemed to be struggling to breathe, her whole body felt heavy, as if she were about to faint, which stunned everyone.
"Zhu Qingluan, you actually poisoned her," Fu Jun shouted in glee upon witnessing this scene. Instead of thinking about saving her, he seized the opportunity to attack: "Lord Bai, look! To win the competition, she actually poisoned her opponent. This is truly malicious intent! I have won this competition without a doubt!" He had originally thought he was destined to lose but did not expect this turn of events; it seemed even heaven was helping him.
"You are talking nonsense," Yun Nishang retorted unhappily after hearing his words. "If anyone poisoned anyone, it was you! The current result of our competition is one hundred to one hundred. The winner will be determined by who receives the card from her hand. You are afraid that Qing Luan will win, so you poisoned us to frame us!" They had not even gotten angry yet he was already losing his temper—was his mind not functioning properly?
Fu Tianlin and the others saw that the old woman looked like she might faint and became anxious. If something really happened, no matter how capable Qing Luan was, she would be powerless to turn the tide!
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What a tragedy; never had there been such bad luck!
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