School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 238 --The Culinary God Subdued

Everyone present was curious about what kind of porridge had conquered the renowned Culinary God Wall.

Alas, poverty limited our imagination! If only we were judges too.

Sighs of envy filled the crowd.

Wall, pleading, asked, "How did you achieve this?"

"Art originates from life, and so does cuisine. In this seemingly simple bowl of rice porridge, I’ve incorporated the finest variety of seasonings I could find in this world. They can satisfy anyone’s palate. I call it ’The Essence of Humanity.’"

Wall, eager for more, inquired, "But how do they blend together so perfectly?"

Lloyd laughed heartily, "That’s the very essence of the name ’The Essence of Humanity.’"

Wall didn’t fully understand, yet he felt as if he grasped something profound.

Suddenly, Wall knelt down, leaving the crowd dumbfounded.

What was happening?

Lloyd was startled by this unexpected gesture: "What are you doing? Please, stand up. Your culinary skills are not inferior to mine; it’s just that I have a few more years on you, more experiences, which led me to this approach. Don’t lose heart."

"No, I, Wall, am not as skilled. Please take me as your disciple."

Lloyd responded, "That’s not appropriate. However, if you truly wish to learn, come to my restaurant. Together, we can create new, delicious dishes. How does that sound?"

"Really?"

"Of course."

...

Alison was indulging in a feast, her right hand maneuvering a spoon through a bowl of rice porridge while her left grasped a large shrimp, devouring her meal with an intensity that left her oblivious to the recent exchange between two titans of the culinary world.

Armando, observing Alison’s voracious appetite, sighed in resignation, "Alison, how do you eat so much and never gain an ounce? Where does all the food go?"

Mouth still full, Alison mumbled indistinctly, "I was born with a natural beauty, how could I possibly get fat? Or do you have a preference for plumpness?"

"Alright, let’s head back after you’re done," he conceded.

Upon hearing the suggestion of returning, Alison, momentarily ceasing her feast, cooed, "Can we stay out a little longer, please? I’m not ready to go back yet!"

"Well, I don’t have anything else planned for today, so why not," he replied.

Armando then turned his gaze towards the sky.

The clouds had dispersed, and there was no sign of rain, revealing the setting sun.

The sky had cleared up indeed, and the sunlight cast a glow on Alison’s cheek, creating a scene of pure beauty that, for a moment, made Armando forget the less-than-graceful manner in which she had been eating just minutes before.

She was stunning, like a piece of natural jade, her beauty untainted and pure.

Without realizing it, he said, "I’ll take you to a place, one that I’m sure you’ll love."

"Really?" Alison exclaimed, her excitement palpable.

"Of course. It took me a long time to find it," he assured her.

"Then let’s go!" she said, ready for the adventure.

Armando and Alison found themselves returning to the Brown Tavern, where they spotted Samantha sitting at the entrance, devoid of her usual spark, the picture of dejection.

"What’s gotten into you, sister? You look as deflated as a frostbitten eggplant!"

"Your Highness, have you come to mock me?" she retorted, her voice laced with a mix of sarcasm and weariness.

"Far from it, far from it. I’m here out of concern for you, sister."

"And you’re not worried your little lover might get jealous again?" she quipped, a hint of mischief in her tone.

Armando responded with a forced laugh, "Why would I be? How could I possibly be afraid of my wife?"

Yet, at that moment, a small hand was fiercely pinching at his waist, a silent testament to the tension between his words and his reality.

Wincing in pain, Armando swiftly changed the subject.

"It seems this time, sister, you’ve really hit a rough patch, losing both your pride and your troops."

"Yes! How could Wall have lost? And not just lost, but switched sides too. It seems my time with the Brown Tavern has come to an end."

"Such words shouldn’t come from you, sister. Don’t you still have your brother? Rest assured, as long as I have a bite to eat, you’ll have your share," he reassured her, his words carrying the weight of a future monarch, which was not lost on Samantha.

With a burst of laughter, she exclaimed, "With those words from you, brother, I’ve got nothing to worry about. Your promise is worth ten, no, a hundred Brown Taverns to me."

Deep down, she considered: After all, losing the title of Eastern Forest Culinary God was minor.

How could a culinary title ever compare to the word of a future emperor?

"Well then, sister, Alison and I are heading out. We’ll leave the things we’ve bought here and come back for them later."

"Don’t worry, brother. You and your sweetheart go and enjoy yourselves to the fullest!"

"As we will, sister."

With that, Armando took his leave.

Samantha then called out loudly, "Someone bring out His Highness’s horse!"

...

Armando rode atop the small white dragon, with Alison perched behind him, as they slowly made their way towards the setting sun, venturing into the outskirts of the imperial capital.

The majestic steed galloped through vast fields of canola, where the edges of the earth and sky blended in shades of yellow, leading into an endless grove of peach blossoms.

"My goodness! Who planted these peach trees, so many of them, and they’re beautiful!" Alison’s face lit up with astonishment.

"Of course, it was me," Armando’s voice rang out.

"You? When did you find the time to plant these?" she asked in amazement.

"Do you like it?" Armando inquired.

Alison nodded vigorously, "I love it, absolutely love it."

"I’ve planted a total of nine hundred and ninety-nine peach trees here," he revealed.

Hearing this, Alison felt a sudden surge of emotion, and tears began to flow uncontrollably.

"Why are you crying? Don’t you like it? If not, I can have them removed tomorrow..."

"How dare you! Who said I didn’t like it? I’m moved, you dummy," she retorted, her emotions getting the better of her.

Scratching his head, Armando chuckled sheepishly.

As the sun set, they found themselves within the peach grove, quietly gazing into each other’s eyes, as if time itself had halted in this moment.

Alison, drying the tears on her cheeks, laughed foolishly, "I’m hungry again.

Are there any peaches to eat here?"

"It’s March; how could there possibly be any peaches? Just look at how beautiful these peach blossoms are! Just like you."

"Flatterer!" Alison shot Armando a playful glare.

Without responding, Armando pulled out a flute from his waistband and began to play.

The melody wove through the grove, lingering among the blossoms.

Captivated by the enchanting music, Alison began to dance, her movements graceful, as a gentle breeze caressed the scene.

Under the setting sun, within a peach blossom forest, a young boy sat on the ground, while a young girl danced gracefully to the tune of his flute.

Armando set aside his flute, and as the music ceased, Alison stopped her dance.

Armando, with a serious expression, said, "Alison, if one day I become the crown prince, I want to tell you—and then declare to the whole world—that on the day I become the crown prince, you, Alison, will be proclaimed as my wife, my queen, the only woman I will ever love. Is that okay?"

Tears involuntarily streamed down Alison’s cheeks as she replied with a choked voice, "Yes, yes, yes, I, Alison, will be your wife, Armando. In life, I am yours, and in death, I’ll be your shadow."

The two embraced tightly amidst the peach blossoms, reluctant to let go.

Armando, holding Alison close, said, "We should head back now; it’s getting late."

"Mhm."

Leaving the peach blossom forest behind, they made their way towards the Brown Tavern, under a sky now adorned with a bright moon.

Upon reaching the entrance of the Brown Tavern, a young server immediately recognized the esteemed visitor and approached with the utmost respect, "Your Highness, have you come back for the items you purchased at the market today? Everything has been prepared for you. Someone, bring His Highness’s belongings here."

"Good, I am aware. You’ve done well," Armando acknowledged, then handed a few gold coins to the young server.

"Thank you, Your Highness," the server hastily accepted the coins.

"By the way, where is Sister Samantha? I haven’t seen her around," Armando inquired.

"The lady of the house was called back by the family head, probably due to the loss in today’s competition," the server explained.

Armando thought to himself, "Oh, I see. It truly is a surprise that in Brown Market, the best tavern is not owned by the Brown family."

"Alright, I’m heading back to the palace now. When Sister Brown returns, tell her not to worry, there’s always next year, haha!" Armando laughed with a touch of schadenfreude.

"Yes, Your Highness, I will certainly pass along the message," the servant replied dutifully.

Armando, along with Alison, picked up the items they had purchased that day, commenting, "These are really heavy. What did you buy exactly?"

Alison giggled mischievously, "I won’t tell you. You’ll see when we get back. I bought something for you too!"

"Really? Well, at least you have some conscience."

"Hmph, enough talking, let’s go! It’s already dark," Alison urged.

"Alright," Armando agreed.

...

The next day, just as dawn was breaking, Armando was still in his room, sound asleep with snores as loud as thunder, utterly exhausted from the day spent accompanying Alison.

Outside, a maid called, "Your Highness, Your Highness."

Armando, groggily hearing someone calling his name, thought he was dreaming.

However, as the voice grew more urgent, he realized, no, it wasn’t a dream; someone was indeed calling for him.

He suddenly sat up in bed, still half-asleep, and asked, "Who is it, and what time is it?"

"Your Highness, it’s me, Mia! I didn’t mean to disturb your rest, but there’s an urgent matter that I need to report to you," the maid said anxiously.

"What’s so urgent?" he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.