Return of the Immortal Emperor Daddy-Chapter 182
"What are you doing here?" Master Zhan and the owner of the Convenient Workshop were at their wit’s end. Faced with the chefs from the Imperial Kitchen, they had no idea what to do.
Seeing that the waitress wasn’t outside calming the customers but had instead brought people in, they couldn’t help but ask.
"Boss, Master Zhan, I brought them here hoping they could help you," the waitress said, stepping forward with a worried look on her face.
The Convenient Workshop had become a second home to her. How could she not be deeply concerned now that her home was in trouble?
"You need to leave now. Take the customers with you and don’t get them involved," Master Zhan said sternly, waving his hand. He then looked at Wu Tian and the little girl apologetically. "My respected guests, I am terribly sorry. You came to taste my roast duck, but today you’ve been disappointed. It is all my fault."
Master Zhan had always adhered to one philosophy: The customer is God! This principle of his had never changed over the years.
Master Zhan’s attitude made Wu Tian’s eyes light up. He was surprised to find someone with such principles still existed in the city. A truly rare sight.
"Master Zhan, Boss, these two guests are no ordinary people. They also come from Jianghu sects," the waitress said.
"Really?" The owner’s eyes lit up. If that was the case, they might have a chance against the Imperial Kitchen.
"No, absolutely not." Master Zhan waved his hand dismissively. This was his family’s private matter. If he were to ask customers for help, it could lead to a duel between two major Jianghu sects. There would inevitably be injuries and deaths. How could I bear such a thing on my conscience?
"What Jianghu sect?"
"That’s right, tell us! Which one?"
"The Imperial Kitchen is on good terms with every Jianghu sect there is."
The people from the Imperial Kitchen were standing nearby. Hearing that someone from a Jianghu sect wanted to help Master Zhan, they all grew indignant. Their Imperial Kitchen was considered a Jianghu sect, but their martial skills were lacking. So, how had they survived for so long? It was because of their culinary arts. Disciples of the Imperial Kitchen were sent to cook for all the other Jianghu sects. As a result, every Jianghu sect, including the Five Surnames and Seven Families, had to give the Imperial Kitchen some face.
"That would be me." The little girl planted a hand on her hip and strode forward with a swagger, but her childish voice undermined her attempt to project the authority of a powerful leader. "I am the Wudang Sect Leader. Give me some face and let’s just drop this whole matter."
The men from the Imperial Kitchen burst into laughter. They had heard rumors that Wudang’s new Sect Leader was a child, but they hadn’t expected it to be true.
Zhang Xiguan, the man in charge of the Imperial Kitchen, also smiled. He had thought some formidable expert had come to help Master Zhan, but it was just a little brat.
Wudang, you truly have fallen!
Of course, Zhang Xiguan knew that even a Wudang in decline was stronger than their Imperial Kitchen. That was why he, Zhang Xiguan, had brought reinforcements of his own today.
"Amitabha!" A man stepped out from behind Zhang Xiguan. He was clad in a yellow kasaya, and at a glance, he seemed to possess the Dao fruits of an Arhat, looking like a wrathful Vajrapani.
In ancient times, Shaolin and Wudang were the Mount Tai and Big Dipper of the Jianghu sects. Unfortunately, after Zhang Sanfeng, Wudang declined with each generation. Shaolin, however, was different; it remained the foremost of the Jianghu sects.
The man who had come this time was none other than Yong Dong, the Head Seat of Shaolin’s Arhat Hall.
The Imperial Kitchen had assigned ten of its chefs to cook vegetarian meals at the Shaolin Temple. It was safe to say the Shaolin monks had become inseparable from the Imperial Kitchen’s food. This time, the Imperial Kitchen had a request. The Abbot of Shaolin was hesitant, but Yong Dong, the Head Seat of the Arhat Hall, had agreed to help.
Yong Dong had already stood up. The moment he chanted "Amitabha," the sound reverberated so powerfully that everyone’s ears buzzed.
The men from the Imperial Kitchen looked at Yong Dong with the utmost reverence, as if they were gazing upon the Buddha himself.
The owner, thinking that this master would surely side with justice, rushed to plead, "Master, you must see that justice is done for me!"
The owner and Master Zhan pinned all their hopes on Yong Dong.
The waitress, however, grew anxious. As an outsider, she could see things clearly; Yong Dong had been invited by the Imperial Kitchen, so how could he possibly side with their Convenient Workshop?
As expected, Yong Dong looked at Master Zhan and declared, "All things are bound by cause and effect. Benefactor, your son is a mere mortal, while the son of Zhang Xiguan is the God of Cookery, come to the Lower Realm. He and Hua Lingxiu are a perfect match. You should let them be together."
"..." Hearing this, Master Zhan’s body trembled, and his face turned ashen.
His son, Zhan Yan, and Hua Lingxiu were deeply in love; they were the ones who were supposed to be together. He had thought a Shaolin Master would uphold justice and remain impartial, never expecting such an outcome.
"Hmph!" The little girl was not pleased. She snorted heavily. "You’re despicable, baldy!"
Yong Dong, of course, knew he was in the wrong, but under the circumstances, he had no other choice. The Imperial Kitchen had made him a promise. In the future, they would increase the portions for the Arhat Hall disciples and add medicinal herbs to their vegetarian dishes, which would make them stronger than the disciples from the Damo Hall.
In the end, Yong Dong’s heart had been swayed. He was the Head Seat of the Arhat Hall, and he wanted to surpass the Damo Hall. The position of Shaolin’s next Abbot would surely be his.
Though I commit this minor transgression, I have no choice. This poor monk speaks this way for selfish reasons—a sin, a grave sin. It’s just that my mana is insufficient for now. Once I become the Abbot of Shaolin, the master of a great sect, my mana will be great enough to save all the common people. I will atone for this misdeed then, when I am the sect leader.
Being the Head Seat of the Arhat Hall sounded impressive, but there were many matters he wished to intervene in yet could not. His ultimate goal was to save more people, and to do so, he sometimes had to forsake a few.
The little girl could only glare at Yong Dong indignantly.
"Little Sect Leader of Wudang, this old monk advises you not to meddle in this affair. You will only bring trouble to Wudang," Yong Dong said, his gaze fixed on her.
"Nonsense! How could I bring trouble to Wudang?" the little girl shot back, ready to argue with the old monk. "I, this Sect Leader, am simply righting a wrong when I see one. That is the spirit of chivalry. You don’t know a damn thing, you old baldy!"
Being called "old baldy," Yong Dong couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from twitching. He glanced at the little girl but saw no signs of martial skill. Then he looked at Wu Tian behind her and couldn’t detect any martial skill from him either.
Yong Dong knew that the Wudang Sect Leader’s father had once killed Huang Xuantian, a man far more powerful than himself. Since Wu Tian appeared to have no martial skill, Yong Dong was relieved, assuming this couldn’t be that same man.
Yong Dong looked at the little girl and said, "Wudang and Shaolin are practically one family. Many books claim that Zhang Sanfeng came from our Shaolin, and I believe there may be some truth to it. Otherwise, there’s no smoke without fire, is there? Little Sect Leader of Wudang, it is right for those in Jianghu sects to act chivalrously, but one must also act within one’s own limits. Wouldn’t you agree?"
"Bullshit, you damned bald donkey!" the little girl spat. His words sounded righteous, but they reeked of a vile hypocrisy that thoroughly disgusted her.
Yong Dong’s twitch grew more pronounced. He hated nothing more than being called a bald donkey.
