Inside the back kitchen, Lin Feng's lips had already curled so far upward they were threatening to merge with his ears.
It took every ounce of willpower not to burst into a pig-like shriek of laughter.
The System… actually relented.
Though it only said it would "consider appropriately," with the System's typical tsundere personality, this was already equivalent to:
It's done.
Just imagining himself leisurely flipping pans and acting cool in the kitchen—
while others ran around serving dishes, cleaning, and handling chores—
Lin Feng felt his lazy soul ignite with divine brilliance.
His mood soared.
Even the top-class ingredients in front of him suddenly looked more pleasing, as though glowing faintly.
Time blurred under the devout anticipation surrounding the restaurant.
No one knew how long had passed.
Then—
The kitchen curtain was gently pushed aside.
And instantly—
An indescribably rich fragrance surged outward like a tidal wave!
Lin Feng walked out unhurriedly, shrouded in that intoxicating aroma.
In his hands was an ebony tray that looked ordinary… yet to the Titled Douluo watching—
It was as if he carried a miniature World.
Each dish radiated divine luster.
Auspicious light flowed; Dao patterns shimmered.
On the "Bone-Corroding Kylin Ribs," a phantom Kylin seemed to roar at the heavens.
Beside the "Abyssal Thousand-Throat Liver," a deep abyss silently rotated.
Someone gulped.
The sound echoed like a drum in the silent hall.
Lin Feng remained indifferent, casual, lazy—
He placed the dishes before them and spoke lightly:
"Enjoy."
Two simple words.
Yet none of them dared to lift their chopsticks.
It was as if they were awaiting permission to partake in a divine feast—
the final decree before consuming miracles.
Led by Ghost Douluo, every Titled Douluo rose together and bowed deeply toward Lin Feng's retreating back.
"Thank you, Senior, for the feast!"
Only after his figure fully disappeared did they slowly sit down.
And the instant their seats touched—
The sacred atmosphere shattered completely.
One second ago, they were worshippers before a god.
The next second—
They became ravenous beasts lunging toward divine offerings.
Clang!
Ghost Douluo's withered hand blurred into motion, his chopsticks striking like lightning as he snatched a Kylin-imbued rib and shoved it directly into his mouth.
Chrysanthemum Douluo abandoned all elegance; his enchanting face twisted with frenzy as he stuffed food like a hamster hoarding grain.
Spirit Kite Douluo's phoenix eyes burned with competitive fire—
today, she must surpass Tuoba Xi, even in eating!
Devil Bear Douluo tossed aside his chopsticks entirely, grabbing ribs with his massive hand, grease streaking down his chin as he devoured dish after dish with primal roars.
The dining table had turned into an Asura battlefield.
At the center of this chaos—
Ghost Leopard Douluo, newly initiated into "faith," finally lifted his first trembling bite of Flying Cloud Leopard Minced Meat Noodles.
Those weren't noodles.
They were the divine grace he had personally rejected yesterday.
The moment the noodles touched his tongue—
His mind blanked.
The deliciousness was indescribable—
beyond language, beyond thought, beyond mortal perception.
Springy noodles absorbed in soul-melting broth exploded on his palate.
The minced Flying Cloud Leopard meat melted instantly, turning into a dominant yet mellow fragrance that overwhelmed all his senses.
The world around him—Chrysanthemum Douluo's frantic chewing, the roars of Devil Bear Douluo—
all faded into silence.
A hot current surged from his heart to his eyes.
Yet the smile that spread across his face—
eyes trembling, lips quivering—
was uglier than crying.
Delicious.
So delicious he feared he'd swallow his own tongue.
So delicious all his life before this felt like he had been eating pig slop.
This… this is divine grace.
When Lin Feng lifted the curtain again to return to the back kitchen, the fanatic devotion outside finally became muffled.
His "ancient and indifferent" expression collapsed immediately.
"Phew—next up are Hu Liena and the other two. Only a little over a hundred points from the three of them combined. Truly…"
He complained, but he still cooked seriously.
Without these three seed-leeks blossoming early,
where would today's lush Elder Leek Garden have come from?
When he served their dishes, the atmosphere subtly shifted.
Unlike the Elders' table—where visions roared and Dao light shone—
the three youngsters' dishes were deceptively simple.
No Kylin phantoms.
No abyss shadows.
Only the aroma, so rich it seemed almost visible.
The three stared with shimmering eyes.
"T-thank you, Senior… for the meal!"
Lin Feng ignored them and returned to his exclusive rocking chair.
Creak—
As he sank into it, a tidal wave of fatigue washed over him.
Not physical.
Mental.
Acting. Constant acting. Endless acting.
He slumped deeper, then suddenly recalled the good news from earlier.
"System, System—let's chat."
He called out in his mind, tone sly, carrying the faint cunning of a small merchant.
"About that 'Employee' matter…"
"Let me say this first."
"Our shop follows the high-end route. Style, reputation—very important."
"The Employees you find—
their appearance, their aura—
can't be too… miserable, right?"
He paused.
"I don't want any that are ugly or deformed. That would ruin my glorious 'Senior' image."
A cold, mocking snort echoed in his mind.
[Heh.]
[small fry host, is your tiny brain still stuck on such shallow concerns? How utterly pitiful.]
Lin Feng's eyelid twitched.
Looked down on again.
By his own System.
But the System's next sentence made his entire expression freeze.
[Besides, what you should be worried about is not their quality.]
A faint, almost playful undertone colored the normally icy voice.
[It's whether you have enough points… to pay the Employees' salaries.]
Lin Feng: "?"
The beautiful fantasy in his head—
beautiful Employees serving tea and water while he lay around counting money—
Froze.
Shattered.
Turned into pixelated snow.
Wait.
Hold on.
Did the System just say—
Salary?
Lin Feng's pupils shook violently.
He spoke slowly, dangerously, each word trembling:
"You're telling me…
I have to use my own hard-earned points…
to pay them… salaries?"
The System answered with three disdainful, soul-crushing punctuation marks:
[???]
As if saying:
Otherwise?
Do you intend to revive slavery?
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