Chapter 229: What Happened to Wang Er?

At the onset of the Hot Pot Festival, it wasn’t the people of Gaojia Village who first displayed disgraceful eating manners.

After all, Gaojia Village was abundant in resources and had long passed the stage of “starving souls scrambling for food.”

The truly unsightly spectacle came from the porters transporting the grain!

These were poor, downtrodden souls conscripted by the authorities. They had pushed grain carts over one hundred li from Hancheng to Gaojia Village, utterly exhausted by the journey, without a decent meal along the way.

Now, confronted with such a vast array of ingredients and large pots of already boiling water, how could they resist?

A group of porters timidly eyed the Gaojia villagers, too fearful to act. However, upon seeing the Saint Lady give them a meaningful glance, the Gaojia villagers understood. They smiled collectively, picked up the pre-prepared food on the tables with their chopsticks, and tossed it into the bubbling pots.

Sliced meat, tripe, duck intestines, lotus root slices…

Various ingredients immediately swirled in the pots as the aroma of hot pot pervaded the air.

A sharp, spicy note laced the fragrance, but the porters paid it no mind.

Ravenously hungry and seeing the hosts’ approval, they hurriedly grabbed long chopsticks, fished a piece of meat from the pot, and prepared to devour it.

Gao Yiye quickly intervened, “Your constitutions differ from us Gaojia villagers. Do not recklessly eat from the red broth pots—you could suffer fatal diarrhea. You must only consume food from the clear broth pots.”

Only then did the porters notice two kinds of pots: one with reddish broth and another with pale broth…

Heeding her warning, they suddenly realized something unusual about the scent of the red broth. Quickly switching to the clear broth pots, they scooped up freshly cooked ingredients and flung them into their mouths…

Sizzle! Blazing hot, blazing hot!

But oh, the satisfaction!

“The flavor is so rich! There’s salt, oil, pepper… so many seasonings! Utterly delicious!”

Having never tasted anything so exquisite, the porters immediately wept as they ate, reminiscent of abandoned kittens crying while being fed.

Soldiers and retainers under Hong Chengchou’s command then crowded forward, partaking with appreciative murmurs and sighs.

As the guests had begun, the Gaojia villagers no longer held back. Time to feast!

Over four thousand villagers surged forward, gathering around several hundred large pots to begin cooking.

“Wow, the red broth pot’s flavor is overwhelming!”

“Sizzle! So spicy, so spicy! I can’t take it—I’m switching to the clear broth!”

“Huh? Can’t handle the heat? I find this fiery kick thoroughly enjoyable!”

Most couldn’t endure the spice. Fortunately, Li Daoxuan had prepared wisely: only about ten red broth pots were prepared, while the mild clear broth dominated. Thus, most congregated around the clear broth pots, while the spice-tolerant minority huddled by the red broth ones, eating while emitting the rather pathetic hissing sounds of scalded mouths.

Swiftly, Hong Chengchou’s retinue blended seamlessly with the Gaojia villagers. Social distinctions dissolved, all becoming fair-weather friends huddled around shared pots.

“Come, brother, try this piece of meat—it’s fantastic!”

“This blood tofu has such a peculiar texture.”

“But it’s seriously delicious, hahaha!”

“Here, cook this bamboo shoot slice!”

“It’s nearly summer—how do you still have bamboo shoots? How were they preserved till now?”

“These are immortal realm bamboo shoots. They defy seasons.”

“Hahaha, just talking nonsense to trick me.”

Hong Chengchou saw his men mingling harmoniously with the people of Gaojia Village, eating joyfully. He couldn’t help but think to himself: this stuff genuinely seemed delicious. Most importantly, the atmosphere was lively; after just one meal together, they had become like old friends. Strange—truly strange charm.

As he contemplated this, Thirty-Two approached and said, “Hong Daren, we’ve specially prepared a quiet hot pot table. Won’t you join us for a meal?”

Though appearing composed externally, Hong Chengchou was actually weary and starving. He couldn’t resist any longer and nodded, replying, “Then this official will trouble you.”

He dismounted and followed Thirty-Two into the main fortress.

They arrived in a grand courtyard where pots were arranged in the center—two of them: one clear broth pot and one red broth pot.

Those dining privately here were Gaojia Village’s veteran management team: Gao Yiye, Thirty-Two, Third Miss, Tan Liwen, Mr. Wang, Madam Bai, and Young Master Bai.

Seeing Hong Chengchou, everyone respectfully saluted.

Hong Chengchou was accustomed to such settings; official gatherings often involved dining with strangers, usually families of local gentry—it didn’t matter.

He casually returned a fist salute and sat down imposingly between the two pots.

He frowned immediately upon sitting.

The hot pot emitted an overwhelmingly pungent aroma of spices and beef tallow, easily seeping into clothing—which would severely damage his appearance.

Having no spare official garments prepared this time, he dreaded reaching Xi’an tomorrow only for the Provincial Governor to smell beef tallow on him—a mortifying prospect.

He quickly shifted farther from the red broth pot.

Picking up chopsticks, he sampled a slice of aged meat freshly cooked in the clear broth pot. His eyebrows twitched slightly. Huh? This was unexpectedly delicious. The seasoning was abundant; one bite burst with salt, pepper, ginger, garlic, and myriad flavors.

The array of spices alone for this single pot must’ve cost a fortune.

Then he recalled hundreds more pots boiling outside.

This…

Just how affluent was this village?

He couldn’t help feeling startled.

Li Daoxuan “observed” his subtle shift in expression and chuckled inwardly: Scared now, aren’t you? Hehehe!

“Hong Daren,” Thirty-Two asked earnestly, “Could your delivery of provisions to Xi’an mean the Provincial Governor is finally tackling the bandit scourge? No more waiting for them to ‘plunder until next spring and settle naturally’?”

Hearing Thirty-Two’s mocking tone, Hong Chengchou instantly recognized shared disdain for the Provincial Governor’s policy—a coincidence, since he himself detested it.

Praising together might be dull, but condemning together? Definitely invigorating.

Hong Chengchou scoffed, “Hu Tingyan is aged and incompetent—too blind to grasp reality in Shaanxi. Last year, he claimed they’d ‘plunder until next spring and settle naturally.’ But spring’s nearly gone now with zero signs of settlement from those bandits! Ha! Things only worsen. ‘Naturally settle’ is utterly laughable. Against such worthless thieves, we must wipe them out.”

Thirty-Two probed, “Oh? So…these provisions you’re delivering are for the Provincial Governor to fund troops suppressing bandits?”

Hong Chengchou confirmed, “Yes! He’s awake now—troops must be mobilized. Especially Bai Shui Wang Er. Growing bolder daily, if we don’t act soon, it’ll spiral out of control.”

The moment “Wang Er” was uttered, everyone present perked up attentively.

Even Li Daoxuan burned to inquire: So how is Wang Er faring now?