The Daily Life of the Immortal King Chapter 134: Midnight Dining Hall

Chapter 134: Midnight Dining Hall

Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations

A normal cultivator flying on his sword would take roughly twenty minutes to cover a distance of eight hundred kilometers. It was a little far, but w.a.n.g Ling could cover that distance in a blink of an eye.

w.a.n.g Ling had Father w.a.n.g and Loopy Toad hold on to him, and in an instant, two people and a dog arrived in front of the restaurant.

This restaurant looked a little outdated; the walls had been built with wood and brick, and it looked in danger of toppling over in the wind. The inscription on the horizontal board which hung on the restaurant door read "Midnight Dining Hall 1 ." There was already a crack in the corner of the board, and the proprietor had carelessly slapped on two all-purpose adhesive plasters to mend the gap, making this restaurant look more ancient than any old building in the Xiao Family Compound...

At the restaurant's entrance, w.a.n.g Ling suddenly realized that he had pa.s.sed by this place before on the way to school. But since he had been moving too fast, he hadn't seen it clearly. Today, he finally knew for sure... this place actually wasn't a public toilet!

"Don't judge this restaurant by its seedy appearance. The more rundown a shop is, the better the food... wasn't that how that popular Kitchen G.o.d's Restaurant started?" Both father and son stood by the entrance, and as a cold wind swept by, Father w.a.n.g pulled his neck back; w.a.n.g Ling thought that he didn't sound very confident.

The restaurant didn't have a door; a ragged, sun-bleached piece of cloth had been hung up at the entrance, and above that was an old-fas.h.i.+oned iron roller shutter. Every day at the restaurant's closing, the proprietor had to pull down the shutter with a long hooked handle and lock it.

Two people and a dog drew the ragged cloth aside and stepped inside. The shop was so small that it only contained four wooden tables with a stack of plastic chairs on the side.

As w.a.n.g Ling entered, he saw the restaurant's boss leaning against the kitchen door, smoking.

The boss had a buzz cut and looked about forty years old. He had unhealthy-looking hollow cheeks and deep eye sockets, and a ten-centimeter knife scar which ran down from his forehead over his right eye and stretched down to his neck.

It was very obvious that this was a man with a story.

"Ah, there are people so early today." Seeing that he had customers, the boss quickly stubbed out his cigarette and pointed at a handmade menu hanging in the center of the shop before putting his hands on his waist. "Apart from lao tan pickled cabbage beef noodles, order whatever else you want to eat, as long as I can make it..."

Father w.a.n.g: "Do you have fishball thick noodles?"

The shopkeeper shook his head. "No thick noodles."

Father w.a.n.g: "Then fishball rice noodles?"

The shopkeeper shook his head again. "No fishb.a.l.l.s."

Father w.a.n.g: "You don't have anything... then why would you open this shop?!"

The boss raised his eyebrow as he argued with a righteous air, "You can't say we don't have anything, it's you who don't know how to order. When I think about back then, s.h.i.+fu taught me everything about cooking, and I was his most favorite disciple."

Father w.a.n.g: "..."

w.a.n.g Ling: "..." If your s.h.i.+fu knew that his most favorite disciple was messing around in such a rundown shop, wouldn't he definitely choose to go die?!

Father w.a.n.g really didn't know what to order, so he directly pointed at the menu and said, "Then serve us two medium bowls of lao tan pickled cabbage beef noodles first..."

The boss didn't say anything and just nodded his head. He turned around to go into the kitchen. Following that, w.a.n.g Ling saw him turn on the exhaust fan, which rumbled continuously like a tractor...

Roughly ten minutes later, two bowls of lao tan pickled cabbage beef noodles were done. A bowl in each hand, the boss placed them in front of Father w.a.n.g and w.a.n.g Ling. He had even thoughtfully prepared a plate of bare ox bones especially for Loopy Toad.

Loopy Toad gave the ox bones an uninterested glance, then lapped up the houseflies that had come to rest on the bones with extreme satisfaction...

Boss: "..."

Unexpectedly, these two bowls of noodles looked pretty good, and the bowls themselves might be old, but they weren't dirty.

Father w.a.n.g slurped up a mouthful of noodles, and then lifted his head, a little startled — it actually tasted pretty good!

The only flaw was that the pickled cabbage wasn't sour enough.

Father w.a.n.g frowned. "Boss, your cabbage doesn't taste like it was pickled in a jar? It's not sour at all."

The boss replied strangely, "Who said it was pickled in a jar?"

Father w.a.n.g pointed at the menu. "Can you read? Lao tan pickled cabbage! Let me tell you, I'm also an educated person! Please give me a reasonable explanation, otherwise this is just cheating your customers!"

The shopkeeper curled his lip. "I'm Tan Siming and those who know me well call me Lao Tan. 2 I made this pickled cabbage beef noodles, so I named it 'lao tan pickled cabbage beef noodles.' Is this a reasonable enough explanation?"

w.a.n.g Ling and Father w.a.n.g: "..." They were completely unable to refute this explanation!

It was almost eight o'clock at night, and as Father w.a.n.g and w.a.n.g Ling were halfway through their noodles, suddenly there were sounds of activity at the entrance.

A young man with his bangs combed to one side came in with a worn guitar on his back; he looked like a penniless street singer.

Because he couldn't afford to rent a place in the city, this young man could only pool the money which he earned in the city to rent a place in the outskirts.

With his memory reading ability, w.a.n.g Ling had gleaned all of this in an instant from the man's brain.

w.a.n.g Ling truly hadn't read all this on purpose; it was instinctual for him, since some people liked to wear their emotions on their faces — w.a.n.g Ling could easily read the memories of this type of people. As for some men who obviously had stories, such as Old Antique and this restaurant's boss, who was currently in the kitchen, he would never know what kind of pasts they had unless he took the initiative to read their minds.

It was obvious that this young man was a regular customer; seeing him, Boss Tan gave him a slight nod and asked in his magnetic voice, "The usual?"

The young man nodded his head silently, carefully leaned his guitar against the wall, then found a place to sit.

Although he didn't speak, it was as if the boss's eyes could see his thoughts. "I know that you had an audition today. It looks like it didn't go well?"

The young man dropped his head.

While the boss prepared dinner for the young man, he comforted him. "Young man, you still have other opportunities, it doesn't matter. Look, we have new guests today. How about you give them a listen and sing your audition song?"

The young man suddenly stood up in excitement. "Really, can I?"

Father w.a.n.g and w.a.n.g Ling put their chopsticks down at the same time and nodded seriously.

Listening to the voice of a down and out vagabond singer in a remote village restaurant — w.a.n.g Ling felt that this was probably a once-in-a-lifetime sort of magical experience.

The young man bowed deeply to the boss, Father w.a.n.g and w.a.n.g Ling. Then, he cleared his throat and began to sing acapella.

"You stir up wind and clouds... and sweep me away...

"You lift up the waves... and abandon me 3 ..."

Father w.a.n.g: "..."

Boss: "Little brother... your heavenly silkworm potato strips bibimbap is done, maybe you should eat first."

This extremely piercing singing along with this familiar cuisine style was a twofold shock to w.a.n.g Ling. "..."