Chapter Sixty-Four: Buddhas Filling the Skies (Part One)

Ming Tian and Qian Shanduo, each leading a team of sixty chefs, knelt in perfectly aligned formation before Xiao Baojuan.

Despite his weary and dispirited expression, Xiao Baojuan couldn’t tear his gaze away from the sixty-four dishes arrayed before him.

Ming Tian noticed that his Royal Fried Rice did indeed capture the emperor’s attention, but in the grand scheme, it was merely four dishes among many. Though the twenty-seven chefs on Ming Tian’s side had poured their utmost effort into presenting their finest cuisine—dishes far superior to their usual fare—their offerings still paled before the overwhelming skill of the Gold Medal Chefs.

“The Gold Medal Chefs are truly formidable,” Ming Tian murmured, casting a glance at their dishes. Though perhaps not quite on the level of his Royal Fried Rice, the gap was not insurmountable. Turning to look at the chefs behind him, he saw exhaustion etched into every face after four hours of ceaseless striving.

You’ve all worked so hard.

Ming Tian didn’t blame them for being unable to match the Gold Medal Chefs. Aside from Qian Shanduo, the three on the opposing side possessed genuine skill. True strength could never be bridged by mere indignation or passion.

“First, His Majesty will sample the dishes from Qian Shanduo’s side.”

As expected, the partial Xiao Yaoguang insisted the emperor begin by tasting his favored side’s cuisine. Everyone knew that after thirty-two dishes, Xiao Baojuan would be full, and with the heavy flavors favored by Qian Shanduo’s team, Ming Tian’s side would likely be judged with dulled appetite and numbed palate.

The Marquis of Donghun—Xiao Baojuan—was clearly eager. After all, this was a life-or-death contest, and both sides had exerted themselves to the utmost; these dishes far surpassed his usual fare.

A cold snort drew Ming Tian’s attention; Qian Shanduo was looking at him with a smug, mocking grin, even making a throat-slitting gesture in open provocation.

Go ahead and gloat, you fat fool!

Ming Tian ignored him, not bothering to meet his gaze—a face that ugly was better left unseen.

“Mmm… This… this is delicious, I… I give it seventy-five points. And this one… also good, s…seventy points.”

Lost in thought, Ming Tian heard Xiao Baojuan already awarding high marks to every dish from Qian Shanduo’s team, which only made Qian Shanduo’s arrogance swell. He looked at Ming Tian as if he were nothing but meat on a butcher’s block.

Then, Xiao Baojuan began tasting the dishes from Ming Tian’s side. The entire court held its breath, waiting for the emperor’s verdict.

But then—

“Ugh… ptooey! What… what is this garbage? Z…zero points!”

The first dish, a bean sprout attempt at mimicking Ming Tian’s Phoenix Crystal, was made by one of the palace cooks. Furious, Xiao Baojuan hurled the plate to the ground.

“What is the meaning of this?” he shouted.

Ming Tian was baffled, staring at the scattered sprouts. What was going on? He’d seen the cook prepare Phoenix Crystal as well; though the technique was lacking, the flavor should have been adequate—certainly not so bad as to make the emperor spit it out in disgust.

Unless…

Sure enough, Xiao Baojuan’s next actions confirmed Ming Tian’s suspicions.

“No… no taste at all… Zero… And this… what even… Zero!!”

With each bite, another plate was smashed—all earning zero points.

Sensing something was wrong, Ming Tian looked at Qian Shanduo, who was practically bursting with glee, his grin utterly unrestrained.

“I… I won’t eat anymore! This one is tasteless too! Zero points!! What are all these things?!”

At last, even the Royal Fried Rice, which should have been a highlight, could not be swallowed; Xiao Baojuan spat it out in revulsion.

Enraged, he slammed the table, sending all the dishes from Ming Tian’s side crashing to the floor.

Ming Tian was bewildered. Had Qian Shanduo tampered with their dishes?

“Ming Tian, look!” Just then, Yin Chan slipped over and pointed discreetly to Qian Shanduo’s table.

Following her gaze, Ming Tian saw a rather ordinary wine-syrup dessert—the only dish to receive a low score of forty from Xiao Baojuan. But there, dusted over its pure white surface, was a layer of bluish-gray powder.

Ming Tian’s heart sank. “Is there something wrong with that dish?” he asked.

Yin Chan nodded. “That powder is jasmine root. Combined with wine, it has a numbing effect—they’ve paralyzed the emperor’s tongue!”

“What?!”

Only then did Ming Tian understand. Glancing again at Qian Shanduo, he saw the fat man’s mismatched eyes practically crowing, as if to say: “You realize it too late.”

Indeed, the chefs on Ming Tian’s side, though perhaps less skilled, could not possibly have produced food deserving of zero. Especially his own Royal Fried Rice—he was confident it would have scored at least ninety.

That scoundrel! Even now, he plots harm!

Ming Tian was boiling with rage.

Behind him, the chefs, unaware of what had happened, stood trembling in terror as Xiao Baojuan raged.

“I… I’m so furious I could die!!!”

The emperor’s face was red and swollen with rage. He kicked one chef so hard that blood gushed from the man’s nose. “Guards!!!”

At his command, dozens of soldiers immediately surrounded Ming Tian and his team, leaving the twenty-seven chefs ashen with fear.

Qian Shanduo and Xiao Yaoguang, triumphant in their scheme, wore expressions of unbridled glee.

“Drag them all out… execution by slow slicing!”

Even An Luo was terrified out of his wits. “Brother Ming, what do we do?! Brother Ming!”

Ming Tian looked at the overturned table, his own Royal Fried Rice now nothing but scattered, ruined grains. Only the jar of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall remained intact—its trapezoidal, thick-walled form had protected it from disaster.

Ming Tian realized that this dish was his last hope. If even the powerful aroma of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall couldn’t overcome the numbing effect of jasmine root on the emperor’s tongue, he would die here today.

Because the contest was held in public, there was no need for a food taster. Likewise, poisoning the dishes under so many eyes was impossible. Thus, the previous night, Ming Tian had already mixed the Lovesickness Poison given to him by Wang Jingze into the semi-finished Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.

He had never tasted the finished dish; there was no way to test it. The dosage was minimal—according to Yin Chan, if controlled properly, only the soup would be poisonous, and the aroma would be harmless. At worst, it would just cause a few days of stomach trouble.

If he could, Ming Tian would have preferred to win with his Royal Fried Rice and avoid the risk of unveiling the jar.

But as the soldiers closed in, Ming Tian had no other choice. Summoning all his strength, he broke free and rushed before Xiao Baojuan.

The entire assembly was startled. Before any of the soldiers could shout, Ming Tian dropped to his knees before the emperor. “Your Majesty, you may kill me if you wish, but I beg you—please, at least taste the dish in that jar! Just one mouthful!”

He knew Qian Shanduo’s move was insidious; he never expected the man would target the emperor’s sense of taste.

By all rights, he had already lost.

But he wasn’t without hope. His only chance to reverse the situation lay with Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.

“Which… which dish?” Xiao Baojuan stammered.

“Your Majesty, there’s no need to waste words with this incompetent cook,” Xiao Yaoguang interjected, his tone dripping with contempt. “What could possibly be special about the last jar? It’s so crude—what good food could be inside? How could the Emperor of Qi stoop to eating something from such a shabby vessel? Guards, take him away! Execute him!”

Immediately, soldiers seized Ming Tian by the arms. Their strength was overwhelming, and Ming Tian, still recovering from his injuries, could not resist.

“Your Majesty, even if you won’t eat it, at least remove the lid and smell it! Just one sniff, and you’ll regret wanting to kill me!” Ming Tian roared.

His words piqued Xiao Baojuan’s curiosity.

Xiao Baojuan was not a compassionate emperor, but he was insatiably curious—a trait well documented in history. Once, while passing through a street, he saw a pregnant woman about to give birth and became curious about whether the child would be a boy or a girl. Too impatient to wait half an hour, he personally cut her open to see.

Such was his cruelty—and his voracious curiosity.

“Wait… wait a moment!” Xiao Baojuan commanded, stopping the soldiers and looking at Ming Tian with interest. “You… you mean… the dish in that jar… is so delicious it could spare your life?!”

There was hope!

Every chef, Yin Chan, An Luo, even Qian Shanduo, turned to Ming Tian in surprise.

“No, not to spare my life,” Ming Tian replied, bowing before the thousand curious eyes upon him. “This dish’s flavor can surpass all thirty-two on the opposing side. If it cannot, I’ll willingly accept three thousand six hundred cuts!”

Xiao Yaoguang sensed danger and shouted, “Enough of this nonsense! Guards, take him out and—”

“Silence!”

A shoe came flying and struck Xiao Yaoguang so hard he nearly toppled over. No one else would have dared—only the Marquis of Donghun, Xiao Baojuan.

With a scowl, Xiao Baojuan removed his other shoe and hurled it as well, abandoning all imperial decorum. Xiao Yaoguang dared not dodge and was struck full in the face, blood pouring from his nose.

“Who is the emperor, you or me? Since when do you make decisions for me? Interrupt again and your whole clan will be executed!”

Xiao Baojuan was notorious for his utter lack of familial feeling; he hadn’t shed a tear when his own father died. His words left Xiao Yaoguang humiliated, unable to protest, and he could only retreat, clutching his bleeding nose and glaring at Ming Tian with renewed hatred.

Turning away, Xiao Baojuan gave the order. The court maid approached the table and lifted the lid of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.

The instant the lid was removed, the very heavens seemed to change color…