Xu Zheng stared at the steaming, dangerously red milk tea and hesitated.
This… this wasn't just spicy. It was giving off the exact vibe of a hotpot base that could legally be classified as a biological weapon.
Was this a drink? Or a death sentence?
He glanced at Guoba sitting by his feet.
Xu Zheng slowly placed the cup beside him. "Hey, Guoba. Wanna try a sip?"
Guoba: "???"
A few minutes later, Xu Zheng wore the universal expression of a man who had just made a serious mistake.
"Do we need to call a doctor? I think Guoba's not okay…"
"!!!"
Xiangling sprinted over and crouched beside Guoba with growing alarm. "The meat's going bad already?! Xu Zheng! Hand me my cleaver!"
Guoba, on the verge of ascending, suddenly jolted back to life and tried to breathe fire at her.
"Alright, alright! Stop being dramatic!" Xiangling laughed and gave his head a pat.
…
Around noon, business picked up in Wanmin Restaurant.
Xiangling no longer had the luxury of hiding in the kitchen, tinkering with borderline crimes against cuisine.
Fortunately, after a whole morning of effort (and casualties), she finally created a version of the chili milk tea that didn't violate human rights.
Xu Zheng confirmed it personally—it wouldn't kill you. Technically.
Now that the taste no longer caused spontaneous seizures, Xu Zheng came out front to help take orders.
He spotted customers raising hands, smiling like a proper little service professional, and jotted everything down politely.
That was when a red-faced, slightly bloated man waddled through the front door.
The moment Xu Zheng saw him, a faint alarm bell went off. He looked familiar, but Xu Zheng couldn't place him right away.
"Order." the man grunted.
"Coming!" Xiangling called, about to step out.
Xu Zheng held her back and gestured that he'd handle it.
"Sir, what would you like to eat?" Xu Zheng asked sweetly, all innocent baby face while secretly analyzing the guy's features.
"I'll have this, and also…"
Mid-sentence, it clicked.
This guy was one of Chayevich's goons—the fat merchant Xu Zheng had previously confronted by parking a row of coffins outside his door.
So what the hell was he doing here?
Xu Zheng stayed calm on the outside but made a mental note to be careful.
Then the man looked at him and added, "I heard your milk tea comes in a lot of flavors. Any recommendations?"
Ding—
Three options popped up in front of Xu Zheng:
Option 1: Recommend Red Bean Milk Tea. Reward: 500 Mora.
Option 2: Refuse service and kick him out. Reward: 30 Jueyun Chilis.
Option 3: Recommend Chili Milk Tea. Reward: 10 Primogems.
Xu Zheng wanted to spit.
Five hundred Mora? Are we joking? That's barely enough for pocket lint. A dog wouldn't even wag its tail for that!
Option two confirmed the guy was here to stir shit. But kicking him out now would be too clean. Not satisfying enough.
Xu Zheng put on his best customer-service smile.
"Sir, I highly recommend the chili milk tea. It's our chef Xiangling's specialty—bold, innovative, and unforgettable."
The red-faced man hesitated. Was this little gremlin setting him up?
But then he thought, Wait, I'm a regular customer right now. No way they'd risk their reputation just to prank someone.
His actual mission was simple: eat, fake food poisoning, and collapse in public. Boom—instant scandal. That would teach Wanmin not to challenge his boss's fake milk tea empire.
He smirked. "Alright then, chili milk tea it is."
"What'd he order?" Xiangling called from behind.
"Chili milk tea."
"Ohh? See? Someone appreciates my genius," she beamed proudly.
Soon, the food and drink arrived at the man's table.
…
Moments later.
The red-faced man's expression twisted in horror.
What the actual hell?!
One sip and he nearly met the archons.
This wasn't a drink—it was a war crime in a cup!
He barely managed a single mouthful before stopping. His tongue felt like it was having a seizure. His dignity tried to flee his body.
This? THIS was their signature?
He'd tasted knockoff milk tea that was more drinkable than this. He almost felt betrayed by his own tongue.
And yet… Liyue citizens loved this stuff?
He sat there questioning reality.
Maybe I'm the problem. Maybe I'm just not twisted enough to live in this world…
After several minutes of existential dread, he finally reached a conclusion: this wasn't a threat. This place was a joke.
"I'll just tell the boss it tastes like hot diarrhea," he muttered.
Half an hour later, having polished off the food (but not the drink), he wiped the oil from his lips and looked around with regret.
The food was amazing. But the drinks? Criminal.
And eating a full meal without anything to wash it down? Unforgivable.
So, dramatically, he stood up… picked a nice, smooth spot on the floor… and flopped backward like a dying walrus.
CLANG!
Several diners shrieked. Others gasped and gathered around.
A few brave ones poked his body and gave him gentle shakes, trying to see if he'd wake up.
He didn't move.
Whispers turned to murmurs. Someone ran off to call the boss.
"Maybe it's the food! Maybe something's wrong with the milk tea!" a few planted hecklers shouted, trying to stir the pot.
"Shut it! My old man's been eating here for twenty years, and he's still kicking," someone snapped back.
An actual regular. The kind you can't bribe with a few rotten apples.
Xu Zheng was already by the man's side, putting on a show of concern.
"Everyone, don't panic! I've studied medicine. This looks like a seizure—possibly life-threatening! Luckily, my master taught me emergency techniques."
The crowd held their breath. Half expected to see a miracle. Half expected to watch a child perform medical malpractice live.
They all knew Xu Zheng was Xiangling's new apprentice.
Smart, adorable, scarily good cook—and the genius behind Yuning Milk Tea.
But still… he was a child. Surely he couldn't actually know medicine?
At best, he might know how to apply a band-aid.
But that day, the whole city of Liyue would witness something no one could've predicted—
A little boy, one step away from toddlerhood, about to operate on a full-grown man.