The Villainess Eats Malatang
The phrase “prehistoric era” doesn’t simply mean “a really long time ago.” It literally refers to the time before history—before humanity invented writing. It speaks of an unknown age with no records, the dawn of mankind. Yet astonishingly, a single record from before even that prehistoric period existed. Its estimated date of creation was over ten thousand years ago. The academic consensus was that it had been left behind by an advanced pre-human civilization. It was the Hwandan Gogi, a chronicle of the Hwan Empire—the very first utopia of humanity and the first empire built by those ancient predecessors.
That the Hwandan Gogi was true was written right there in the Subakdo. Of course, many people still misunderstood and failed to grasp the true nature of the Hwan Empire. It was a nation that transcended the three thousand worlds spoken of in Buddhism, surpassed the nine heavens of Taoism, and reached the realm of the celestial. To the average person with an IQ below 1,500, it was naturally impossible to understand. Only geniuses with an IQ of 1,500 or higher could comprehend that the Hwan Empire was omnipotent and that all present-day humanity across the six continents descended from it.
The only intellects capable of rivaling such geniuses would be the other faction of enlightened prodigies who had realized the truth that the world was flat. As a side note, since extremes often meet, it was possible that one simply couldn’t distinguish between geniuses and complete idiots—or total morons.
According to the Hwandan Gogi, malatang was a traditional food of the Korean people. It had been beloved throughout a long history ever since it first appeared beneath the Divine Tree of Shindansu. This malatang had spread to the Central Plains and evolved into a primitive form of cuisine known as mochae. (No, it wasn’t.) Mochae was a traditional Sichuan dish. One would carry around a hot broth and a separate basket filled with all kinds of luxurious toppings. When a customer ordered, the two would be combined into a single bowl on the spot. It was especially popular among those who preferred a rich variety of ingredients even if each individual portion was small.
And from mochae, malatang was born once more. This, it was said, illustrated the cyclical principle of the world—malatang becoming mochae, and mochae becoming malatang again.
And in the current world, the ultimate, supreme malatang existed right here.
Chef King Changryong.The Greatest Cook Under Heaven, Jaejung. Two separate signboards hung proudly above the restaurant. It was an unusual name for an eatery, and beneath it hung an additional plaque that practically screamed its arrogance.
Chef King Changryong
The Greatest Cook Under Heaven, Jaejung
“But ‘Greatest Cook Under Heaven’? Gramps, who decides stuff like that? Is it just someone with massive ego? Or do the cooks fight each other to rank themselves?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never heard of such a custom in the Central Plains.”
Choe-ri-ong was just as curious. At that moment, someone naturally answered the question.
“That title is given to the final winner of the Greatest Cook Under Heaven Tournament.”
“Ooh. The Greatest Cook Under Heaven Tournament.”
Cheong let out an impressed hum, then tilted her head. “That’s weird. Just hearing the name makes my heart race, but why haven’t I ever heard of it?”
“That’s because it’s a cooking competition to select the greatest chef in Sichuan. There’s no reason for an outsider to know about it.”
“Ah. But why call it the Greatest Under Heaven? Shouldn’t it be the Greatest in Sichuan Tournament?”
“Because Sichuan cuisine is the best in the world. Therefore, the greatest chef in Sichuan naturally becomes the greatest chef under heaven.”
“That’s something you’d have to ask the other provinces about. By the way, who’s this smart friend of ours?”
Cheong had no interest in describing men’s appearances and in fact found it repulsive, so the finer details weren’t important. He was simply the very picture of a sickly young master—pale-faced, frail and delicate, yet exuding an air of nobility.
“Me? Hmm. Jangryu, Jangyu… I think Jangyu would be good. My name is Jayu. And you, miss?”
Jangyu glanced at the long willow branch trailing behind Cheong. He had called the long willow branch Jangyu. He clearly had zero intention of hiding that it was a fake name.
“So, is it Jangyu or Jayu? Pick one.”
“Let’s go with Jayu. I’m not that close with the Jang clan.”
“Alright. Jayu. I’m Cheong. Seomun Cheong.”
Jayu grinned brightly in response. “Nice. So you’re Miss Seomun? But why are you speaking so casually?”
“You started it first, didn’t you? What, you got a problem with it?”
Cheong asked while resting her hand on her sword hilt. The meaning was clear—if you have a problem, let’s settle it with blades instead of words.
Jayu’s expression only grew more amused as he continued. “To be honest, yes, I do. However, since your words have some logic to them, I won’t hold it against you.”
“Good. Jayu. I have a habit of not making friends with suspicious people, you know? Thanks for the explanation, but shouldn’t we each go our own way now?”
“Don’t be so cold. From the looks of it, you’re also here to eat Changryong’s Ultimate Malatang. Since we’ve come this far, why don’t we share a table?”
“Me? Why?”
“I placed an order for five jars of Oryang Liquor, but it might be a bit much for me to handle alone. Would you be willing to help me out?”
Oryang Liquor was a famous Sichuan wine that even appeared in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Meng Huo’s younger brother, Meng You, had attempted a strategy similar to the Trojan Horse ploy to surrender to Zhuge Liang. But Liang had foreseen it and served him Oryang Liquor. The wine was so delicious that Meng You forgot all about the plan, drank himself into a stupor, and the scheme failed spectacularly.
Cheong loved alcohol. Since she had looked into Sichuan’s famous wines, even someone who hadn’t properly read the Romance of the Three Kingdoms even once—let alone three times—knew about it.
“Is it the Yibin one? It’s the Yibin one, right?”
Cheong’s eyes sparkled behind her face veil. She had to wear the veil because otherwise the old man Choe-ri-ong would nag her endlessly.
“Of course. It would be improper to pair the cooking of the Greatest Cook Under Heaven with some cheap swill, wouldn’t it?”
When one spoke of Yibin Oryang Liquor, it referred to the most precious variety among them. There was even a saying among drinkers that it was worth risking one’s life to taste. Cheong had tried to get some before, but it was such a rare treasure that even with money, one couldn’t easily obtain it.
Cheong nodded immediately. “Now that I think about it, true friendship doesn’t waver even in the face of a little suspicion. Friend.”
“Friend, huh… I like it. I like it very much.”
Jayu smiled brightly. Seeing that smile, Cheong immediately understood. This guy has no friends. In that case, she could comfortably rip him off for the friend fee.
“By the way, who is this old gentleman?”
“Ah. Gramps? Gramps is… well. He’s the old man who takes care of me.”
When it came to explaining Choe-ri-ong, that was really all that came to mind. After all, she couldn’t exactly introduce him as the former Great Guardian of the Demonic Cult and a legendary great demon.
“They call me Elder Choe.”
“I am pleased to meet you as well, Elder Choe. Would it be alright to call you Elder?”
“…Do as you wish.”
Choe-ri-ong answered after observing Jayu. The clothes woven from Shu brocade, the pale face, and the naturally flowing casual speech—it was obvious to anyone that he was the young master of an extremely powerful and prestigious family. That alone earned him three points.
His palms had no calluses, and his temples were no different from an ordinary person’s, meaning he had never learned martial arts. Another three points.
The way he casually spoke to a woman was frivolous, so minus five points. However, his carefree attitude and lack of attachment to titles earned him two points back. And since he had no friends, he probably wasn’t the type to wander around outside much—another three points.
A total of six points. For now, he was worth watching. The absolute minimum passing score in Choe-ri-ong’s evaluation started at one hundred.
They were chatting idly as they approached Changryong when a group of people glaring at them with hostile postures caught their eye from across the entrance. They clearly didn’t look like they had good business here, so Cheong couldn’t hold back her curiosity.
“By the way, who are those people over there?”
“Ah. You mean the contract-breakers?”
“Contract-breakers?”
“People whose reservations were canceled.”
Sometimes unavoidable circumstances arose where the restaurant couldn’t accept guests. In those cases, even those with reservations had no choice but to have their bookings canceled. The problem was how it was handled afterward.
Reservations were backed up for a month and a half. People would either stay at an inn while waiting for their reservation to eat the Ultimate Malatang, or have someone else book it for them and visit at the appointed time. To have that suddenly canceled would naturally make anyone upset. And when they were simply given back their deposit and told to leave, the anger doubled.
“They just return the deposit and that’s it?”
“What else can they do? Should they make another reservation for a month and a half later? Or cancel the next day’s customers to make room? That’s not possible either.”
“That’s true.”
Cheong nodded. At the end of the day, a restaurant’s greatest weapon was good food. Customers had to pay money just to get a taste. The more popular a place was, the more it could afford to close two days a week and take every single holiday off.
“So what are they doing over there?”
“Probably here to protest, I suppose.”
“Man, they really have nothing better to do.”
Cheong let out a scoffing laugh. Of course having a reservation canceled would be annoying, but if they weren’t even going to do anything about it, was there any point in gathering like that and shooting dirty looks? Wasn’t that just ruining their own mood and wasting their time? Truly people with nothing better to do.
…That was what she used to think.
“Excuse me, sir, but tonight a very important guest has reserved the entire place, so your booking has been canceled.”
“What?”
“We’ll return double the deposit.”
Cheong absentmindedly accepted the pouch. The reservation fee hadn’t been small, but it wasn’t a huge amount either, so even doubled it didn’t exactly feel like a windfall.
“My… my Ultimate Malatang…”
While Cheong stood there stunned, Jayu stepped forward.
“Hey, I believe the reservation was under the name Sinhwi. Are you saying that one was canceled too?”
“Did you not hear me? I said a very important guest has reserved the entire restaurant.”
“Just how important is this guest, exactly?”
“It is none other than the Tang Clan’s Hae-eo-hwa who has come in person. Satisfied?”
Jayu’s expression hardened. Meanwhile, Cheong’s insides began to boil.
Sure, cancellations could happen. It was a very important guest, after all. In this primitive, barbaric, uncivilized land of uncivilized China, she had already experienced many times how guests were served according to their status. But manners were a different story.
The waiter not only failed to bow and apologize, but stood there stiffly, handed over the money, and basically told them to get lost. How could she watch that with both eyes open?
Just as Cheong was about to explode—
“Hey, you—”
“Don’t do it, friend. Getting involved with the Tang Clan’s affairs in Sichuan is never fun.”
“The Tang Clan?”
“The Sichuan Tang Clan, one of the Five Great Clans of the Central Plains.”
“Ah. I’ve heard of them.”
She had heard a word or two from Paeng Daesan and Namgung Sinjae. Paeng Daesan had called them persistent and stingy, while her sword friend had said they were the richest family in Sichuan, famous for their poison. The Paeng Clan guy was simple, so his expressions clearly showed his likes and dislikes. Seeing that look of utter disgust, it seemed he must have been badly burned by the Tang Clan before. As for Cheong, she was confident she could teach the world’s greatest mind-reading talent to anyone just by looking at their face.
Anyway, Jayu’s pleading expression was so mournful it looked like something one would only see at a funeral home. Thanks to that, Cheong missed her chance to get angry and had no choice but to storm out of the restaurant, fuming.
And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she began walking straight toward the protest site of the contract-breakers.
“Friend, where are you going?”
“I’m going to see just how precious that face is that they can cancel someone else’s reservation on a whim. Why?”
“Didn’t you hear? It’s Hae-eo-hwa.”
“I know that much. The flower that understands words? She must be really pretty or something? Then I should at least see her face once.”
Jayu asked again, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You carry a sword at your waist and claim not to know Hae-eo Dok-hwa, one of the Five Flowers of the Central Plains? Friend, are you really a martial artist?”