Chapter Thirty-Eight: Stinky Tofu

On the right side of this ice-sealed chamber, there was an inconspicuous secret passage. It was something within this passage that had drawn Li Pingyang’s attention. Uncertain of what might lie inside, Li Pingyang picked up a stone and tossed it into the depths, testing for traps.

After a moment, nothing happened. Relieved, he stepped into the secret passage. As he entered, the red glow in his eyes gradually faded, and the throbbing pain in his head subsided.

The passage was narrow, barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through. Darkness enveloped him, and the rocks were slick with moisture—whether it was water or some other liquid, he couldn’t tell, though it had no scent.

Using the massive statue as a reference, Li Pingyang estimated that his current position was likely within the statue’s belly.

Emerging from the passage, he found himself in a secret chamber. The room was empty except for a single ice coffin at its center, cold mist drifting from its surface.

Even from a distance, Li Pingyang felt a chill seep into his bones, shivering uncontrollably. He had to cup his hands before his mouth, blowing warm breath, just to feel marginally better.

The heavy, frigid aura pressed in from all sides. Unable to resist much longer, Li Pingyang forced himself to approach the ice coffin. He wanted to see what lay inside before making a hasty retreat from this eerie place.

As he reached the coffin and looked inside, he was surprised to find not bones, but a single black shard.

Gazing at it, a panel appeared in his mind’s eye as the system identified the object: Meteorite Shard—one of the fragments fallen to the world after an ancient divine weapon was shattered.

The jagged edge of the shard looked familiar. Suddenly, Li Pingyang realized that the broken blade within his dantian had a missing piece that seemed to match this shard perfectly.

He opened the coffin, took the meteorite shard in his hand, and immediately felt a pleasant warmth spreading through his palm. The fragment began to melt, seeping like liquid into his skin.

Inside his dantian, as the broken blade absorbed the liquefied shard, a portion of its missing edge was restored. This piece was evidently important—the blade’s shape grew ever clearer.

As the blade regained part of its form, one of the nine iron chains binding it snapped with a sharp crack.

Li Pingyang could sense his inner energy swelling, almost to overflowing, and subtle changes began to ripple through his body.

...

The next day.

On South Street in the city of Cangzhou, an unpleasant smell wafted through the alleys and byways. Li Pingyang had set up a stall, proudly offering his newest snack creation.

He had waited half the day, yet not a single customer had approached.

Passersby, assaulted by the odor, pinched their noses and hurried away. Only a scant few had the courage to stop and take a curious look at the square, black, and pungent snack.

Those who lingered out of curiosity stared at the oddly colored, foul-smelling food, intrigued by its novelty. But if invited to take a bite, they would shake their heads vigorously, none daring to try.

Little Dragonfly squatted by the stall, two wads of paper stuffed in her nostrils, her expression one of utter distaste as she eyed the snack Li Pingyang called “stinky tofu.” Though her stomach rumbled with hunger, she still shook her head.

She even wagered with her young master that no one would buy such a thing. If anyone did, she’d hand over all her money.

After a while, even the three gawkers drifted away, leaving only a few flies buzzing about, circling the stall.

“Shoo, shoo...” Li Pingyang waved off the flies, then picked up a piece with his chopsticks and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, his face radiated pure happiness. Seeing this, Little Dragonfly began to waver.

“There’s no way it’s that delicious!” she muttered to herself, watching Li Pingyang eat another piece and growing tempted. Resisting the urge, she turned away, refusing to watch lest her hunger get the better of her.

Just then, a beggar happened by and stopped at the stall, eyeing the black stinky tofu and licking his lips. Li Pingyang greeted him warmly with a smile.

To a beggar, the smell was of little concern; as long as it was edible and could fill his belly, that was enough. But when he saw the sign—one copper coin per piece—he frowned and prepared to move on.

Sensing his hesitation, Li Pingyang cheerfully picked up a large piece with a bamboo skewer and handed it to him. “Go ahead, it’s free.”

Hearing this, the beggar’s frown relaxed. He accepted the skewer with a grateful bow.

He held it under his nose first, his face contorting in disgust.

Clearly, he had never tasted anything so pungent before. Under Li Pingyang’s expectant gaze, he ventured a small bite.

A few passersby, seeing the beggar take a bite, gathered around to watch. Li Pingyang waited for the beggar’s reaction, while the others held their breath. Time seemed to freeze.

“Ahhhhhh!” Suddenly, the beggar cried out, startling two onlookers into stepping back. Everyone assumed it must taste terrible—who would have thought it could be fatal?

But after a long moment, the beggar recovered, pulled the remaining tofu from the skewer, and used his hands to stuff it into his mouth. He even licked his fingers clean afterward.

A look of utter contentment spread across his face. “Delicious—so delicious! I’ve never eaten anything this good!”

As he spoke, tears welled up in the beggar’s eyes, pure and genuine, utterly devoid of pretense.

Even Li Pingyang couldn’t help but give a thumbs-up to this supportive stranger—the man had saved his business.

“Boss, I’ll have five coins’ worth!”

“I want three coins’ worth.”

“Ten coins’ worth to go! And give me extra scallions, all right? More, please. Thank you, boss…”

The stinky tofu was delicious, but no one dared try it—until the beggar led the way and, with his convincing performance, everyone rushed to buy, scrambling to hand over their money.

Little Dragonfly was so busy counting coins that she gave up, letting people toss their money into a wooden box while she helped Li Pingyang pack up orders.

At one copper coin per piece, buy five and get one free, buy ten and get two extra, plus a beautiful paper bag for takeaway, complete with a scratch-off prize.

On the bag was the slogan: “Pingyang’s Stinky Tofu—Everybody’s Eating It!” At the bottom, in small print: “Stall location, South Street, one hundred meters west of the Li Residence.”

Of course, there were no cell numbers or contact details back then—otherwise, Li Pingyang would have added his messaging info too.

Since he hadn’t prepared much stock, the cartful of stinky tofu sold out in no time.

Rolling up his sleeves, Li Pingyang poked a finger through a hole in his worn-out clothes and laughed ruefully. He hadn’t expected business to boom like this—it had far exceeded his expectations.

“Here you go.” Little Dragonfly pulled out a frog-shaped coin pouch, handed all her money to Li Pingyang, and admitted defeat—though her face showed anything but resignation.

Afraid she might go back on her word, Li Pingyang quickly snatched the money, grinning as he pocketed it and began packing up.

Little Dragonfly sulked, deliberately refusing to help.

When they were done, Li Pingyang waved the money in his hand, cleared his throat, and said, “Come, today the young master is treating you. Order whatever you like!”