Multiverse Gourmet Hunter

Wu Xiong noticed Master Lang Wen staring at him and made no attempt to hide the disgust on his face.

"Honestly, I doubt Yangquan is going to sell many of those dumplings anyway."

He sneered and gestured toward Master Lang Wen.

"You might as well feed them all to this penniless old man. At least you’ll add a few plates to your total and keep yourselves from losing too badly."

Wu Xiong laughed smugly and turned to leave.

Before he could take more than a few steps, however, the sound of heavy, synchronized footsteps suddenly rose above the noise of the crowd.

Another commotion swept through the square.

A group of government officers in official uniforms, long sabers hanging from their waists, marched quickly through the crowd.

Diners hurried aside to clear a path, and even the surrounding chatter quieted considerably.

Wu Xiong stopped and turned around curiously.

Then his expression froze.

The officers passed straight through the crowd and stopped in front of the Yangquan Restaurant stall.

More specifically, they stopped in front of the "penniless old man" he had just mocked.

The officer leading the group visibly relaxed the moment he saw Master Lang Wen.

Then, before the eyes of everyone present, he dropped respectfully to one knee.

The entire marketplace fell silent.

Wu Xiong went rigid.

The lead officer looked up at Master Lang Wen with a pained expression and spoke in an exceedingly respectful tone.

"Master Lang Wen! His Excellency the Governor repeatedly ordered us to ensure your safety."

"When you disappear without telling anyone and wander off alone like this, you really make things difficult for us!"

Master Lang Wen looked at the gathered officers with obvious helplessness and waved them off.

"I only came out to walk around and sample some food. What could possibly happen to me?"

"You’re the ones frightening everyone by making such a fuss."

Then he gestured toward Yangquan’s stall.

"Since you’re already here, try these pan-fried dumplings. They’re genuinely excellent."

Wu Xiong was a chef himself.

Naturally, he had heard of Master Lang Wen.

A chill shot from the soles of his feet all the way to the top of his head, and it felt as though the blood in his entire body had frozen.

What had he just done?

He had mistaken Master Lang Wen, former Chief Supervisor of the Imperial Kitchen, for a beggar and chased him away from his stall.

Worse, he had just called the man a penniless old geezer to his face.

Haruto watched Wu Xiong turn pale and calmly picked up another pan-fried dumpling.

Wu Xiong had become so obsessed with winning that he could no longer show even the most basic respect toward the people eating his food.

Whatever consequences came from that were entirely of his own making.

Of course, none of it had anything to do with Haruto.

For him, the most important thing here was still tasting dumplings.

He withdrew his gaze and leisurely took another bite.

At that moment, Elder Guan hurried over from the Guangzhou Chefs Association.

His face lit up with surprise when he saw the old man.

"Master Lang Wen! It really is you! I never imagined you would come here!"

Behind Yangquan’s stall, Mao quietly leaned toward Zhou Yu.

"Master Zhou Yu, who exactly is that old gentleman?"

Meili looked over with the same curiosity.

Zhou Yu’s eyes were filled with respect as he lowered his voice to explain.

"Master Lang Wen was the Chief Supervisor of the Imperial Kitchen before Admiral Li’s time. He is one of the great authorities of the culinary world."

"After leaving his government post, his whereabouts became a mystery."

"I never expected him to appear at the Dumpling Contest."

Once Zhou Yu explained the old man’s identity, Mao finally understood.

Word quickly spread among the surrounding diners as well, and countless people began staring excitedly toward Master Lang Wen.

Then the old man turned to Wu Xiong.

"Your name is Wu Xiong, correct?"

Wu Xiong flinched.

His expression turned ugly.

Master Lang Wen ignored his discomfort and continued.

"You’ve been making dumplings for many years. Have you ever stopped to think about what the people who come to eat your dumplings are actually looking for?"

Haruto leaned against one of the wooden posts beside Yangquan’s stall, holding his second plate of pan-fried dumplings and eating at his own pace.

There was little emotion in his eyes as he watched the drama unfold.

People had tempers.

Master Lang Wen was no exception.

Wu Xiong had chased him away earlier, then openly mocked him as a penniless old man.

Even the most patient person would have been annoyed after that.

Still, from Haruto’s perspective, neither side was completely beyond criticism.

Wu Xiong was obviously in the wrong.

He had judged someone entirely by appearance. He had been snobbish and rude. Worse, he had initially allowed Master Lang Wen to eat one plate of dumplings, only to turn around and chase him away once he realized the old man’s presence might hurt business.

And even after that, Wu Xiong had been unable to resist humiliating him further.

As far as basic character went, Wu Xiong had no defense.

But Master Lang Wen was not completely blameless either.

The Dumpling Contest was packed with people, and every stall had only so much space.

With Master Lang Wen dressed as scruffily as he was, ordinary customers genuinely would hesitate to stand beside him.

Nobody particularly wanted to eat shoulder-to-shoulder with a filthy-looking stranger.

In fact, when Master Lang Wen had first arrived at Haruto’s stall, the nearby customers had instinctively moved aside as well.

Haruto simply had not cared.

He had never intended to fight for the championship, and he planned to close the moment his dumplings sold out anyway. A small disruption to business meant nothing to him.

But Wu Xiong desperately wanted first place.

From his perspective, anything that drove customers away was a genuine problem.

Ultimately, the real issue was not simply that Wu Xiong had driven away a customer.

It was that the customer he had driven away happened to be Master Lang Wen, one of the highest authorities in the culinary world.

If the man standing there today really had been nothing more than an ordinary, scruffy old beggar, nobody would have cared that Wu Xiong chased him away.

Some people might even have agreed with him, arguing that the man was ruining everyone else’s appetite.

Haruto had no intention of joining the argument or defending either side.

He was merely a visitor from another world.

He would eat his dumplings and mind his own business.

With that thought, he took another bite.

The crisp exterior shattered between his teeth, releasing juicy meat and the mellow fragrance of chili oil across his tongue.

Still excellent.

After finishing his reprimand, Master Lang Wen accompanied Elder Guan toward the judges’ seats.

Only then did the surrounding diners suddenly realize something.

Their eyes turned almost simultaneously toward the Yangquan Restaurant stall.

Master Lang Wen himself had praised these dumplings.

He had even personally recommended them.

If one of the greatest authorities in the culinary world thought they were delicious, how bad could they possibly be?

The crowd immediately surged toward Yangquan’s stall.

"One plate of pan-fried dumplings!"

"Me too! Give me two! I can’t believe I didn’t come over sooner!"

"I want a plate too!"

The previously quiet stall was suddenly swallowed by a dense crowd, even busier than Haruto’s stall and the Dumpling Brothers’ had been earlier.

And still more customers kept arriving.

Everyone at Yangquan Restaurant was instantly overwhelmed.

Mao quickly recovered from his surprise and threw himself back into cooking.

Haruto watched Yangquan’s stall come alive and shook his head with an amused smile.

He finished the last dumpling on his plate and set it down.

Taking advantage of a brief opening in the crowd, Haruto slipped away and waved toward Mao.

"Mao, good luck with the rest of the contest."

Mao looked up and immediately smiled.

"Thanks, Haruto-san! I’ll do my best!"

Haruto smiled back and disappeared into the crowd.

There were still several stalls whose dumplings he had not tried yet.

He had no intention of missing them.

...

Eventually, the sun sank completely below the horizon.

GONG—!

The deep, resonant sound of a bronze gong cut through the noise of the entire square.

The host from the Guangzhou Chefs Association stood atop the central platform and raised his voice.

"The allotted time for the Guangzhou Dumpling Contest has ended!"

"The competition is now officially over!"

The square fell silent for a brief moment before erupting into excited discussion.

Association staff immediately began sealing the stacks of plates from each stall.

The plates were then transported to a designated counting area, where dedicated officials watched the entire process to prevent any possibility of cheating.

Every total was carefully counted and recorded.

One by one, the large red lanterns surrounding the square were lit.

For most stalls, tallying the plates took no more than ten or fifteen minutes.

Only two stalls required significantly more time.

The Dumpling Brothers.

And Yangquan Restaurant.

Their serving plates had been stacked into towering piles, layer upon layer, almost reaching the height of a person.

Everyone watching understood the same thing.

This year’s Guangzhou Dumpling Contest champion would inevitably be one of those two.

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