Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
It was a newly born planet with lives called Planet Immortality. Since it was young and lacked spiritual energy, there were no immortals or deities save the legends about them.
In the past, countless people on the planet sought the path to immortality, but they could not find it and had no choice but to die of old age. Eventually, the people named the planet “Immortality” to remind their descendants never to give up seeking the path.
The mountain road was muddy after the rain. Soaked through by the rainwater, the yellow soil became wet and sticky, soiling the cloth shoes that had just been changed.
Green leaves were hanging on both sides of the road, on which insects nibbled and raindrops gathered. The raincoat made of straw brushed the leaves, causing droplets of water to fall. The insects were scared and clung tightly to the leaves.
Carrying the hoe, Bu Fang slowly went up the mountain step by step. On Planet Immortality, this mountain was in the middle of nowhere. The ground was slippery—wet soil always threatened those who were not careful in their steps.
There was no light in Whitey’s mechanical eyes as it followed quietly behind Bu Fang. Its foot sank deep into the mud with every step, and when it pulled it out, mud spattered.
“Walk slowly.”
Bu Fang glanced at the somewhat sluggish Whitey with a faint smile on his face. He was a little short of breath after walking for only a short distance. Now, he was no different from a mortal. Even his body seemed to have returned to mortal form.
The mountain was tall, and the sun was already moving downward toward the west. Bu Fang did not want to delay any longer. Whitey hurried up. Although Bu Fang had become a mortal, his pressure did not disappear, so the wild animals in the mountains did not dare to approach him.
From a distance, Bu Fang could smell the water in the air. He led Whitey to a babbling brook. The water in the mountain stream was very clear, and because it had just rained, it tasted sweeter.
He took out a clay pot, filled it with water, and gave it a shake. The water was very clear without any sediments. He was satisfied. After that, he continued up the path to find the ingredients for today’s dinner.
The trees were covered with mushrooms, some of which were poisonous. Bu Fang picked some well-grown, non-toxic mushrooms and threw them into the basket on his back. Then, he continued to walk up the mountain. Finally, he and Whitey came to a bamboo grove.
The bamboo here towered into the clouds. When the wind blew, their leaves brushed against each other and rustled. The ground was covered with bamboo leaves. Some of them had rotted, and because it had just rained, the air was filled with a strong smell of decay.
Whitey sat aside while Bu Fang stepped into the bamboo grove with the hoe. He searched calmly and soon found a bamboo shoot that had just sprouted. He dug it out with the hoe, swept away the dirt, and tossed it into the basket.
Of course, he did not just stop there but continued his search. Bamboo shoots that sprouted after the rains at this time of year were most delicious. The dishes cooked with them were the most tempting.
After digging out several bamboo shoots in a row, Bu Fang was a little breathless. Leaning against a bamboo, he took out a water bottle and took a sip of water. The sweet and refreshing water rushed down his throat and made his tired body feel much better.
Those living on a mountain lived off the mountain. In fact, the mountains were full of all kinds of delicious ingredients.
It was getting late, and Bu Fang stopped looking. Humming a little tune, he led Whitey down the mountain. The road up the mountain was difficult, but the descent was easy. His humming sounded rusty, deliberate. Perhaps he thought it was a little odd not to hum a song on such a lonely road.
By the time they got back to the hut, it was getting dark. Eighty was running around the house, cackling. Bu Fang rubbed the little fellow’s head, then took the ingredients and went inside.
Whitey sat quietly to one side. Eighty came up to it and seemed to communicate with it for a while, but it felt that the puppet was a little boring and ran away again.
Soon, Bu Fang came out from the hut again, built a simple stove in the yard, and lit the firewood he had cut the day before. A plume of smoke rose slowly through the gloom of the night.
Eighty ran over and squatted beside Bu Fang, staring in awe at the firelight. This was not the divine fire, nor was it a flame that could destroy heaven and earth with a single thought. It was a simple fire produced by the burning of firewood. However, Eighty’s heart pounded as it looked at the flame.
Bu Fang felt nothing. He added some firewood. The temperature dropped sharply in the mountains at night, so he felt a little cold. The only thing that kept him warm was the heat from the fire when he was cooking.
Whitey sat in the distance. In the light of the fire, it looked a little dorky but adorable. Bu Fang shook his head.
After warming himself by the fire for a while, Bu Fang took out the bamboo shoots he had collected from the mountain. Their shapes were irregular but mostly looked like cones. After peeling off the skin layer by layer, the white and tender bamboo shoots appeared in front of him. He washed them and cut them into tiny pieces.
Bu Fang heated the wok, brought the water to a boil, and then blanched the bamboo shoots. After that, he added the other ingredients and began to stir-fry them. In no time, the fresh bamboo shoots were transformed into a dish that smelled delicious.
In addition to it, he also cooked a bowl of mushroom soup. The slightly viscous soup turned red when shredded radish was added.
He then removed the lid of the steamer. A plume of hot steam immediately rushed up into the sky. After filling a bowl with rice, he took out a bamboo table and a bamboo chair and sat down. On the table was a dish, a bowl of soup, and a bowl of rice—simple and unpretentious.
Eighty cooed and ran away. Whitey did not need to eat, so it continued to sit at a distance as if in a trance. With a faint smile, Bu Fang leaned back on the bamboo chair, which creaked.
Around the hut, the sounds of insects chirping and the rustle of leaves were incessant. Although it was a little noisy, Bu Fang did not feel annoyed. The tranquility filled him with comfort.
Because it had just rained, the sky was clear and full of blinking stars. Bu Fang could never imagine that one day, he would sit under the starry sky and enjoy a meal leisurely.
He picked up a piece of white bamboo shoot with his chopsticks, put it in his mouth, and chewed. It was crunchy, and a sweet taste spread in his mouth. His eyes narrowed, and the corners of his mouth curved upward.
Although it was just a simple dish, its taste penetrated his heart. It was a flavor that was different from anything he had cooked before. He might have lost his mighty cultivation base, but his state of mind became calmer than ever. He even thought that it was fine to go on living like this.
With all his power taken away, he could experience the world in peace and find the true meaning of life as a mortal. “Better than saddled horses, I like sandals and cane; spend a straw-cloaked life in mist and rain…” he murmured. It was an ancient poem on Earth, and he thought it fit his current mood perfectly.
A few years ago, he sealed the awakened Soul God with all his cultivation base, plus the will the God of Cooking left in Whitey’s body as well as the pseudo-God of Cooking dish. That was the best he could do. He was not the God of Cooking. He was just a little chef who kept running on the road to becoming one.
He had sacrificed his cultivation base and gave all that he had. In fact, many people did not understand why he had gone this far.
Even if Soul God was awakened, the top experts of the Primitive Universe could still survive. All they had to do was leave the Primitive Universe and hide in the vast expanse of the nothingness of the universe. Soul God would not be able to do anything to them—it was impossible for him to spend time searching for them in the boundless nothingness.
In fact, many immortals and deities were ready to do just that. If Soul God did fully awaken, they would immediately flee into nothingness.
And Bu Fang could have done the same thing. Even though Soul God hated him to the bone, he could make the same choice. But he chose to seal Soul God instead, and as a result, he fell to the mortal world and was reduced to a mortal.
He had jumped out of the cycle of reincarnation, but he was back in it again. He gave up everything he had and chose to live a normal, ordinary life. Perhaps he just wanted to settle his restless heart.
The System was gone as well after Whitey unleashed the God of Cooking’s will in it. Bu Fang was really just a mortal now. His spiritual sea and divine sense had been separated from his physical body to suppress Soul God, so he could no longer use his mental force.
He was no different from other mortals, except that his body was stronger and immune to all diseases. He would get tired, he would sweat, and he also had the emotions and desires of a mortal.
Bu Fang did not know how Eighty had found him. He could not open the Heaven and Earth Farmland, so he did not know what had happened to it. Of course, it would not be destroyed, for after he had released all his cultivation base, he sent it into the cosmic void.
By now, the farmland should have transformed into a planet with lives. It would be even more terrifying than the average planet, becoming a large world comparable to the Chaotic Universe.
Bu Fang could never figure out why Eighty was here. But since he could not figure it out, he stopped thinking about it. It was unfortunate for the little fellow to come here, for he would not have any precious ingredients to feed it. All Eighty could eat was plain rice.
Speaking of rice…
Bu Fang went back into the hut and opened the rice jar. It was almost empty with not much rice left.
“There’s no more rice… This little fellow really eats too much.”
Bu Fang shook his head. After clearing up the dishes on the table, he went back inside to sleep. Now, besides eating, his biggest hobby was sleeping.
The next day, Bu fang left the hut wearing a straw raincoat and a bamboo hat. He did not bring Whitey. Alone, he came to a pond in the mountain. After sitting there all morning, he had a few more fat fish jumping in his basket.
Carrying the basket, Bu Fang walked leisurely down the mountain.
Soon, he came to the village at the foot of the mountain. The village was also considered to be located in a remote area. Many villagers greeted him when they saw him. Having lived here for several years, Bu Fang got acquainted with the people here.
The villagers all knew that a strange man lived in the mountain. In the beginning, they thought Bu Fang was an immortal. But ever since he came down the mountain with a few fat fish to exchange for rice, they knew he was just a mortal like them.
As time went by, they all got acquainted with each other.
“Aunt Zhang, do you have any extra rice? Can I exchange some with fish freshly caught in the mountain?” Bu Fang said to a farmer’s wife carrying a hoe in the distance.
Looking at the fish in Bu Fang’s basket, the village woman swallowed. She wanted to exchange. Living in the mountains, it was not easy to get fish. But…
“Little brother Bu, I can’t exchange with you. The officers and soldiers are here. A lot of rice in the village was collected by the village chief to cook a meal for them,” Aunt Zhang said. “Why don’t I go to town in a few days and bring you some rice?”
Bu Fang paused for a moment. He did not expect this. “That’s all right, Aunt Zhang. You go on with your work. I’ll ask the others…” He was sure that he could get some rice. Even if he could not, he was not nervous. He had to keep a calm mind.
In the distance, the sound of stir-frying rang out, and Bu Fang smelled the fragrance of dishes. He raised his brows slightly.
“The officers and soldiers are eating there. Little brother Bu, if you are really hungry, go and tell the village chief and ask him to find a place for you at the table,” said Aunt Zhang. “My son is about to go to the town with these officers and be one of the soldiers. Do you want to go with him?”
The people in the village were really friendly. Bu Fang replied casually and then walked toward the distance. Suddenly, he stopped.
The open space in the middle of the village was filled with tables, and the officers and soldiers were eating and drinking. Carrying the basket, Bu Fang frowned slightly. He looked beyond the officers with greasy lips to the other side of the field.
A figure, whose head was shrouded in a mist, stood there. Although his face could not be seen, Bu Fang could tell that he was smiling at him.
“Lord Bird?”