Original God Zhongli BG Xiao Qinglong traveled through time

Chapter 374 Food is the People's First

As dusk casts a honey-colored halo over the glazed tiles of Yujing Terrace, smoke is rising from the teacup in Grandma Ping's palm. Xizhi curls up in Xiangling's arms, the silver-gray tip of his tail drooping like a galaxy, and the soft fur unique to ragdoll cats rises and falls with his breathing, as if he is holding a fluffy cloud. The Jueyun pepper on Guoba's head sways gently in the evening breeze, and the spicy fragrance startles the cat's ear tip to explode with a dandelion, and he can't help stretching his claws to reach it, and the pink tender pads brush against the brown bear's fluffy back hair, hooking out a few maple-colored fine fluffs.

“Puff—”

The rice crust suddenly spurted out two balls of glass-colored flames, and in the flames emerged the illusion of returning to the original place a thousand years ago. In my memory, the ancient books on my father's bookshelf are always more numerous than those in the outside world because of the presence of a certain ancestral guest official. Among them, there are also books related to the Kitchen God. The blue vertical pupils of the past reflected the figure of Maxius standing on the top of Tianheng Mountain. The glass lily in the hair of the demon god was still stained with morning dew, and the rolling sleeves shook off thousands of sparks, which was suddenly different from what I imagined. At this moment, outside the illusion, Xiangling's spatula "clanged" on the edge of the stove, shaking Song Nut Tang to dance: "You mean, the Kitchen God finally turned into thousands of lights?"

Grandma Ping's fingers, like dry branches, stroked the cat's back, and the new fur flowed in the moonlight: "He said, 'I want to see the smoke drifting over the Guili Plain, and the children holding sugar paintings chasing the sunset.' Then it spread like thousands of winds and entered thousands of stoves." The dust-cleansing bell on the old man's wrist swayed lightly, and golden patterns appeared on the bronze bell, which just matched the dragon scales behind Xizhi's ear.

The cat suddenly arched its back and jumped onto the stone table. When it used its short feet to push Xiangling's apron for leverage, its claws cut three threads. The pad of its flesh pressed against the broken green brick with the word "food". It seemed as if Fushe stuffed the last half of the dry food into her bloody palm on the day of the bloody battle in the rocky abyss. The Yaksha brother hummed the song of tea picking in Chenyu Valley, combing away the blood clots in her mane. When he hummed the line "The mountain tea is as red as fire", his fingertips suddenly lost their temperature.

"What do you think, young man?" Grandma Ping's teacup was filled with nectar at some point, and the sweet fragrance made Xizhi's beard tremble slightly. "The devil is immortal, and the fireworks in the world will never end. There will always be a day..." The last syllable was swallowed up by the self-igniting Jueyun pepper on Guoba's head. The spicy fragrance wrapped in the fluff twisted into clouds in the twilight, and the brown and silver-gray hair flew like stardust.

Ying's sword tassel suddenly moved without wind. The dragon scales behind Xizhi's ears burst into green light, and the huge stone on the Yujing Terrace hummed in response, revealing the incomplete inscription of "Food is the first necessity of the people". Guoba's bear paw slapped on the blue brick, and the rock element array spread from under his paw, just completing the last stroke of the word "天".

Granny Ping's fingertips dropped stardust into the tea, rippling the abyss of the rocky abyss: "There was a little dragon... not even a baby in the immortal lifespan, yet it rushed into the dark disaster with half a piece of rice cake in its mouth." The gilded halo of the Dust-Cleansing Bell spread across the gullies in her palm, where the reflections of all the mountains of Liyue curled up. "Should I lament the foolishness of the child... or respect the courage conceived by heaven and earth?"

"Bang!" Xiangling's iron pot fell over, and the golden shrimp balls rolled into the dust. Xizhi stared at the sweetness of the mud, and his amber eyes were filled with blood mist - later... In the dirty snow on the day when Rong Zhao died in the battle, there was also a half piece of dry food that was crushed by iron hooves. The cat's claws pressed the shrimp ball for a long time, but it didn't put it into the mouth. It turned out that there was some pain, even time pickled into candied fruit couldn't be swallowed.

"Whether it's a fairy or a demon," Keqing's voice came from the moon cave door. Yuhengxing's clothes were still stained with the scent of ink from the General Affairs Department, "the hearts they hold out are all hot." She hugged the stunned cat into her arms and combed through the tangled tail hair with her fingertips, "Just like this golden shrimp ball, it can warm your hands when it's cold."

"Well..." Grandma Ping smiled kindly, "The sacrifices are all similar, and so is the return... But this is another story..."

Xizhi suddenly jumped onto Grandma Ping's shoulder, and the glazed lily that fell from the tip of her tail fell into the teacup, rippling with golden patterns like the lock of a contract. When Guoba came closer with the scorched and fragrant steamed bread, the moonlight from five hundred years ago suddenly flooded her consciousness - Fushe finished braiding the last section of her hair in front of the crack in the abyss, and the tea-picking song ended at the word "long" in "year after year, the smoke from the cooking stove grows long", and the lingering sound turned into the ending sound that she would never get rid of in her life.

"It's time to eat—"

The shouts of Wanmin Hall shattered the amber of memory. Xizhi exploded into a ball of fur and rushed towards the source of the sound. The silver-gray whirlwind swept the glass incense across the eaves. The moment Guoba grabbed the cat's tail, the two balls of fur rolled across the offering table, and the overturned almond tofu condensed in the air into the full picture of the return formation. Thousands of sky lanterns responded to the sound, and warm yellow light spots passed by Xizhi's ears, embroidering the words "Mintian" into the darkening sky. The last dot of the word "tian" was exactly the dew that fell from the cat's tail.

The old times flowed in Grandma Ping's smile. On the stone table, the silver-gray fluff and the brown hair of the rice crust were entangled into a heart-shaped knot, swaying in the evening breeze like an unfinished contract. Two faint shadows emerged in the ripples of tea soup: the green-clothed immortal holding the dying Yaksha through the scorched earth, and the brown bear transformed into thousands of shadows and strolled in the morning. Their footprints overlapped under the cat's paw prints like fresh snow, like history licking its own wounds.