279: Demon Clan Hot Pot

Under the "enthusiastic" oppression of the Lord Prefectural City God~

They finally followed suit, extending their paws and clumsily twisting their furry little bodies.

Their noses emitted nonsensical "Woof woo~ Waya~" sounds.

For a moment, the sky above Grass Spirit Village echoed with the off-key chorus of "Dig, dig, dig."

Mixed with the bewildered barking of the cubs, the scene was truly bizarre.

Feng Xi covered her eyes in agony: "Elder, our clan's thousand-year reputation ends today."

The elder beside her had vine-whiskers trembling: "Clan Leader, endure it. For the Underworld position, for the spirit fields!!!"

[Position, the Grass Spirit Dog Clan's final stubbornness.]

Just as the "cultural export" was in full swing, Chen Yu's "artistic creation" did not stop.

"Halftime break."

With a wave of her hand, she magically pulled a pile of things from her Storage Ring—a giant copper pot engraved with the three characters "Wangchuan Brand."

Several bags of bright red soup base emitting a domineering, spicy fragrance, as well as a small mountain of spirit plant roots and mysterious Demon meat slices...

"Singing alone is boring. Next up is the Underworld specialty food cultural exchange segment."

Chen Yu efficiently set up the pot and lit the Netherfire.

"Hot pot, understand? An essential artifact for Underworld envoys to refresh their minds during overtime."

The boiling red oil churned in the pot, and the spicy aroma was like an invisible battering ram, instantly shattering the Grass Spirit Dogs' fragile olfactory defenses.

The cubs: (✪ ω ✪) So... so fragrant, ten thousand times better than dried grass roots.

Feng Xi and the elder: (；´д｀ゞ) Are you sure this is food and not a biochemical weapon? The dogs' noses are about to fail.

"Come, come, don't be shy, have a taste." Chen Yu enthusiastically placed food into each cub's bowl.

"This is called duck blood, it's smooth and tender. This is called... ugh, who cares what it's called, just swish it and eat it."

Feng Nuo licked a piece of spirit plant coated in red oil.

"Woof woo!!!"

The next second, the little puppy launched itself into the air, tongue lolling out long, panting frantically.

It ran in circles on the altar with teary eyes. "Spicy, spicy, it's going to spice this dog to death!!!"

The other little ones who tried it also fell victim one after another. In an instant, the altar was filled with the "woofing" cries of misery and the "hissing" sounds of panting.

The cubs were in complete chaos, and the scene was incredibly messy.

Feng Xi's vision went black, and she almost fainted on the spot.

Her heart was dripping blood: "My cubs, This Old Lady's thousand-year-old spirit plants, all ruined by this red oil."

"Lord Prefectural City God, you call this cultural exchange? I'm afraid this is more like a 'three spicy' policy."

In the shadows at the edge of the altar, space slightly distorted.

Sister Meng, dressed in simple and elegant green, leaned against an old vine tree, twisting a leaf in her hand, watching this chaotic scene with great interest.

Her lips were pursed, a half-smile on her face, but her eyes flashed with an unmistakable sharpness.

[White-Haired Loli, she is certainly thorough in executing her 'wild punches' policy.]

Meng Jiang thought to herself, "As for the effect... so far, it has dealt tons of critical damage to the Grass Spirit Dog cubs' hearts and taste buds."

"I just don't know if it can smoke out the rats in the dark?"

Her gaze swept seemingly unintentionally over the obscure bushes opposite the altar.

Ever since Chen Yu started "dig, dig, dig," there had been several spiritual fluctuations.

Now, hit by the "fragrance" of the hot pot, the fluctuations were clearly disturbed, revealing a hint of disgust and a desire to escape.

[Heh, sure enough, there are eyes watching.]

The leaf at Meng Jiang's fingertips turned to dust. "Zhu Yan's dogs? Or Ao Ya's spies?"

"It seems their taste can't handle the White-Haired Loli's 'cultural influence' either."

Her figure remained still, but a hidden thread of divine sense quietly coiled around the bushes, marking the source of the spiritual fluctuations.

In the center of the altar, Chen Yu looked at the mess and the tear-streaked cubs without a shred of guilt.

Instead, she put her hands on her hips and laughed: "Hahaha, do you feel it? This is the warmth of the Underworld."

"Spicy is what gives it kick, what makes it refreshing, and what makes it truly Underworld!"

Her eyes behind her gold-rimmed glasses were astonishingly bright, as if she had just achieved a great feat.

She completely failed to notice Feng Xi's despairing gaze in the distance, nor Meng Jiang's helpless face-palm in the shadows.

"Little ones." Chen Yu was in high spirits, waving her little hand toward the outside of the village.

"Break is over, next stop—Black Wind Ridge. Let those sheltered Demons taste the power of Underworld culture. Bring the hot pot, we'll sing all the way there."

"Dig, dig, dig at the doorstep~"

"Treat the elders to red oil hot pot base~"

She took the lead in humming her murderous, self-composed tune, shouldering a copper pot of churning red oil, and marched valiantly toward Black Wind Ridge.

Following behind were a group of Grass Spirit Dog cubs, who were dizzy from the spice but nonetheless infected by her enthusiasm.

As well as Feng Xi and the elders, who looked as if they were marching to their execution.

The red oil in the copper pot swayed with her steps, dripping onto the green grass, leaving behind glaring traces of "cultural invasion."

The domineering spicy fragrance in the Demon aura mixed with the cubs' "woof woo" cries, composing an absurd 'march' of the Demon realm.

In the shadows, Meng Jiang sighed silently and quickly followed.

Watching the small figure ahead carrying the hot pot, seemingly intent on conquering the Demon realm, she also sensed several Demon auras suddenly rising from the direction of Black Wind Ridge.

[A-Yu, oh A-Yu...]

A complex smile curled on her lips.

[Your wild punches are really going to poke a hole in the sky. Oh well...]

[The water is murky enough. Let's see what big fish it can flush out.]

...

Black Wind Ridge, the Demons are as their name suggests.

The rocks were pitch black, and the Demon wind wailed, blowing the grass leaves with a metallic, rusty smell.

The Black-Maned Wolf Clan entrenched here were distant relatives of the Gray-Backed Wolf Clan; they were slightly less ferocious, but their "pretentious pickiness" and "territorial cleanliness" were famous in the Demon realm.

At the northwest ridge entrance, two Black-Maned Wolf guards who had just finished their shift were grinding their claws in boredom.

"Did you hear? That bunch of spineless cowards in Grass Spirit Village climbed onto the Underworld's high branch." A wolf guard sneered.

"Let them climb, a bunch of trash who only know how to grow grass."

"But the new Prefecture City God, she's a white-haired little runt, I heard she looks..."

The wolf guard was licking his fangs and about to continue when, out of the blue, a fierce, spicy fragrance slammed into him.

The scent was so strong, it felt like chili peppers rushing straight into his shenting acupoint, accompanied by a strange, bizarre tune.

It was as if a blunt axe had "clanged" and slammed right into the center of the cliff wall.

"Awooo~"

The wolf guard almost bit his tongue.

"Wha... what is that smell?"

His nose twitched frantically, and tears immediately streamed out. "Poi... poison gas attack, a new type of Underworld artifact?"

On the winding mountain path, a bizarre-looking procession was slowly approaching.

In the lead was none other than the White-Haired Loli carrying a copper pot.

The red oil in the pot was boiling, steam rising; that domineering spicy fragrance was like a deadly temptation from an Older Sister Type, carrying a mobile "biochemical arsenal" on her back.