Chapter 48: The Firekeeper

Li Changluo looked in the direction the girl in the bright robe indicated.

Behind her stood a stove—a common sight in rural homes, its bricks stacked neatly. Yet the tavern’s stove now resembled an old man who had smoked leaf tobacco for decades.

It was wheezing heavily, smoke puffing intermittently from the chimney. Faint flames flickered in the stove’s mouth, dying and relighting at whim.

“It’s quite beautiful, this stove,” Li Changluo remarked, unable to grasp the girl’s meaning.

“It was beautiful once,” she replied. “But now, doesn’t it look like someone on the verge of dying of old age?”

At her words, the stove seemed to cough, just like an elderly man with pneumonia. With each cough, more black smoke billowed from the chimney.

“You’re not asking me to clean the chimney, are you? I’m really not good at that. But I have a friend who does it for a living—his face is always black from soot, but his work’s guaranteed,” Li Changluo joked, shaking his head.

“Try this,” the girl said, opening the steamer on the large pot atop the stove. She grabbed a piping hot bun and handed it to Li Changluo.

He juggled the hot bun between both hands, wincing at the heat.

“Go on, taste it.” The girl’s eyes sparkled with expectation as she waited for him to take a bite.

“No, thanks,” Li Changluo shook his head firmly. Was she joking? Since childhood, he’d been taught never to accept things from strangers.

She wanted him to try it? Did she think he was a fool? Absolutely not.

“Will you taste it?” Her voice was gentle, almost coaxing.

“I’ll try it,” Li Changluo replied obediently, picking up the bun and giving it a reluctant lick before immediately wiping his tongue with his hand.

“Eat it. Now,” the girl commanded, her voice rising and the two cleavers in her hands almost touching his neck.

“Alright.”

“Wow, this flavor… It’s the first time I’ve tasted a bun like this. It’s so fresh and delicious, with a yellow skin and black… filling (what on earth is this—it’s terrifying), both pretty and tasty, haha.”

Li Changluo was speechless. Why did everyone in this tavern like to threaten people with knives? He could still vividly recall the last time the waiter had threatened him with a broadsword taller than a man.

When under the eaves, one has no choice but to lower his head; a wise man doesn’t suffer present losses. Survival was more important. Even though the bun tasted like dog poop and was almost impossible to swallow, Li Changluo put on an act: this is a flavor beyond your reach.

“Enough, enough. Your performance is so exaggerated—if you want to spit it out, just spit it out,” the girl said, putting away her cleavers.

Li Changluo wasted no time, clutching his throat and vomiting the bun out in one go.

“It really is hard to eat, isn’t it? Tell the truth, I won’t blame you.”

“Sis, did you ever study at the Chinese Culinary Academy? I’ve watched dozens of episodes of ‘Little Master Chef’ and wouldn’t dare cook easily. Where does your confidence as a chef come from?”

“Not even fit for a dog. Even dogs wouldn’t want it.”

Li Changluo wasn’t joking with his life; this stuff was bad enough to make him want to shut himself in.

“Really? Ah Huang, come here,” the girl called.

To his surprise, a large yellow dog was curled up by the stove, warming itself—a pure-bred country mutt. The girl took another bun from the steamer and tossed it to Ah Huang.

Ah Huang devoured it enthusiastically, then even stood up, bowed, and winked at the girl in thanks.

Li Changluo was dumbfounded.

Something felt wrong. There was no doubt the bun tasted terrible, but… was this dog’s will to survive a bit too strong?

Why did he have a vague sense of foreboding?

But things weren’t as bad as he’d imagined. The girl didn’t take revenge on him. Instead, she brought out a bowl of noodles for Li Changluo.

“If the bun is bad, then have some noodles. Make sure you finish them.”

She thoughtfully dragged over a long bench by the stove, gesturing for him to sit and eat, while she peeled garlic for him.

Li Changluo’s face fell, but he braced himself and tried the noodles, only to find they tasted wonderful.

He really was hungry, and soon was slurping them down greedily.

“Look at the fire in the stove,” the girl said, handing him the peeled garlic.

“What about it?” Li Changluo glanced toward the stove, but the noodles were so delicious he didn’t want to be distracted.

“It’s about to die out,” she sighed.

“If it goes out, just light it again.”

“It can’t be lit.”

“Who even uses wood stoves nowadays? They’re not environmentally friendly. Just get a gas stove.”

“The thing is, it’s not just the wine here that sustains the life of the monsters—dishes do too. In the past, my food was so tasty it made everyone drool. Now, the flavor’s changed, it’s awful, it’s lost its magic. All because the fire is about to die out.”

She gazed sorrowfully at the dying embers in the stove. “Before, the innkeeper would come every month to stoke the fire and keep it from going out. But now, he’s been gone almost two months. I fear the fire won’t last much longer.”

Li Changluo finished the last mouthful of noodles, patting his stomach, then asked offhandedly, “Where’s the innkeeper gone? Why hasn’t he shown up at all?”

In truth, the innkeeper’s whereabouts seemed a well-guarded secret; none of the monsters outside knew. Why would the girl tell him? Still, he asked on a whim—maybe she’d slip up and reveal something.

“There, across the sea in the Eastern Kingdom, two dog-demon brothers are fighting over their inheritance and have turned the world upside down. The innkeeper took the bookkeeper and the others to mediate.”

She glanced around, then lowered her voice, “Don’t breathe a word of this. It’s top secret in the tavern. Otherwise…”

With that, she made a cutting motion at Li Changluo’s neck.

“Come on, that’s far too casual for a top secret. You trust an outsider just like that?” Li Changluo mused.

I really must have some monster charisma.

Winning the trust of female monsters in minutes… At this rate, will I end up with a crowd of adoring fans? Exhausting.

“No, I just think, if you don’t help me, I have an excuse to kill you,” the girl replied with a mischievous smile.

…

Li Changluo was stunned. That was a pretty flimsy excuse for murder.

“So, you brought me here to help you stoke the fire?” he asked.

“You’re the only one who can do it.”

“Me? Really?” Li Changluo felt that this had something to do with the campfire skill he’d just learned. Could it be that this seemingly useless odd skill was actually crucial?

“You’ve learned the campfire skill, and you don’t even know what it’s for?” The girl looked at him as if he were an idiot. Her tone was the same as if she’d said:

“You still eat instant noodles? Don’t you know you have hundreds of millions in your bank account? If you eat noodles without adding an egg, who are you trying to impress?”

“Of course I know. It’s for bargaining hard,” Li Changluo replied with a sly grin.

…