"Why can't we cook meat in the temple?"

Ma Qiang was still fixated on this issue, "Boss Zhou, you must know that nowadays being a monk is just a job, right?"

Since it's a job, of course, there aren't as many strict rules.

Zhou Hu kept a serious face, "But even so, there should be some professional ethics!"

Seeing this, the others came over to persuade them, suggesting that since they were almost at the top of the mountain, they should just go up and take a look. Wouldn't they find out if there was meat being cooked in the temple?

Why argue at this point?

Zhou Hu thought the others had a point and took a few deep sniffs, "No, this smell isn't coming from the top of the mountain."

Ma Qiang sniffed too, "It's over there!"

They looked over to a small path beside the steps. The area was densely forested, but strangely, there was a path through the dense woods, clearly a trail made by the frequent passage of people.

"I know, when my high school female classmates came to visit, I took them hiking here. This way leads to the scenic parking lot."

Zhou Hu looked at Ma Qiang in disbelief, "Your high school female classmates came to Jingzhou to visit you, and you took them hiking?"

Ma Qiang didn't understand, "What's the problem?"

Indeed, there wasn't any problem.

Zhou Hu couldn't believe it, that all of Ma Qiang's IQ was apparently focused on eating.

Oh well.

They turned on their phone flashlights and followed the small path into the woods; many people had indeed traveled this path. It seemed most visitors parked their cars before taking this shortcut to walk to the top of the mountain from the steps.

After walking about two or three minutes, the forest disappeared, and the scene opened up. What was originally a dark mountain now had bright lights shining ahead.

Zhou Hu and his group stood still in disbelief, looking ahead at the parking lot.

A person, a car, a table, a stool, and a pot.

A man in a windbreaker sat there, under the dim white streetlight, illuminated as if he was the protagonist stepping out of a painting!

And he was sitting at a small table, holding a pair of nearly half-meter-long chopsticks, stirring around in a steaming iron pot, then picking up a piece of unknown food to put in his mouth.

The man took a bite, gasping from the heat, then swallowed after a couple of chews and took a sip from a teacup.

What a delightful sight!

Ma Qiang rubbed his eyes, "Did we stumble into the Peach Blossom Land?"

On the other side of the forest, it was quiet at midnight. Down there lay the bustling city, and the forest seemed to form a natural barrier, isolating them from the scene before them.

The state of the man under the streetlight made the others look on with envy.

Could immortals be any different?

"What Peach Blossom Land are you talking about? That's Boss Xiao Chen. Don't you recognize him?"

Because of the distance, Ma Qiang really hadn't recognized him, "Did Boss Xiao Chen get a new car?"

In his memory, Boss Xiao Chen still had a small food cart, since when did he have such a big setup?

"In this world, only Boss Xiao Chen would choose such a flamboyant color. Let's go and see what he's up to, camping out here in the middle of the night."

The six of them ran over, their steps much lighter than when they were climbing the mountain.

"Wow, it really is Boss Xiao Chen?"

"Brother Mo, it's great to see you here!"

"Hello, Brother Mo."

Chen Mo had just eaten a piece of beef and was grimacing from the heat, turning his head to see a group of hulking men emerging from the depths of the forest, "Oh gosh! When did you guys arrive? I thought it was some bandits coming to demand protection money."

Zhou Hu scratched the back of his head awkwardly, not dwelling on such matters, and instead stood by Chen Mo's yellow table, "What's this?"

The others were equally curious, surrounding the black pot.

The pot held a thick sauce, with a rich aroma of spices, carrying the scent of various meats, no wonder earlier they thought they smelled both chicken and beef.

"Braised flavor hot pot, a new invention."

After making the base, Chen Mo realized a problem. If he handled the ingredients in the usual way, like slicing beef thinly, it wouldn't taste good once cooked.

So he adjusted his method, cutting the beef into chunks, segmenting the chicken according to its various parts, and frying tofu in oil before braising it. As for vermicelli, potatoes could naturally be sliced.

He also threw in a variety of miscellaneous ingredients, essentially dumping all the less commonly used items from the pantry into the pot.

The most notable additions were a few pig trotters and a pork knuckle. Of course, these were also cut into chunks by Chen Mo before being added. The intense aroma that Zhou Hu and the others smelled was mainly from these.

There were also some soy-based products, and hot pot items like fish balls Mu Mu had somehow stashed in the cupboard, plus some small vegetables and bamboo shoots.

Ma Qiang asked, "Is it tasty?"

Chen Mo didn't quite understand the question, unsure if it was a simple query or an expression of 'I want some' like a child. So he replied, "Pretty good, I even made a vinegar dip."

Jingzhou people love to eat vinegar, especially with these kinds of braised flavors; dipping it in vinegar tastes absolutely delightful.

Zhou Hu craned his neck to look, and sure enough, there was a small bowl in front of Boss Xiao Chen.

The contents were simple, with black vinegar soaking some scallion whites, chili fragments, and cilantro. The taste was so aromatic that just thinking about tearing off a piece of the thick pork knuckle skin, dipping it, and taking a bite made one feel heavenly!

"Can I try some?" Ma Qiang, realizing that Boss Xiao Chen didn't grasp the concept of sharing, asked cheekily.

Zhou Hu shoved Ma Qiang aside, "What are you saying? Boss Xiao Chen is a businessman, what do you mean 'try some'?"

Turning to Chen Mo, he said, "Brother Mo, how much?"

Chen Mo was taken aback by Zhou Hu's question.

He thought, this is just a big pot of mishmash; how am I supposed to price it?

This kind of thing doesn't have a market price for reference; it might just be one of its kind worldwide.

"I really don't know how to sell it. How do you think it should be priced? Besides, I made this for myself, not to sell."

Zhou Hu immediately put on a serious face, "Brother Mo, everything has a price. In my opinion, your dish has a style similar to Sichuan's cold pot skewers. Why don't we sell it by the piece?"

Chen Mo found Zhou Hu's suggestion quite reasonable.

But then another problem arose.

This pot had everything, probably with dozens of ingredients, making it hard to price, especially since Chen Mo hadn't intended to sell it when he started cutting, so his cuts were quite random.

Some pieces were big, others small; a uniform price wouldn't be fair.

Suddenly, Chen Mo remembered an old-fashioned street food style.

To be precise, it wasn't street food; it was a style of eating.

"Guys, considering you've all climbed up here with some effort, how about this: today I'll do some charity."

Zhou Hu and the others' eyes lit up, eagerly anticipating his next words.

"Let's not discuss how to sell it; let's not price it by materials or weight. How about selling it by the number of times?"

"The number of times?" Ma Qiang was momentarily confused, not quite understanding what that meant.

Chen Mo pulled out a few pairs of chopsticks and distributed them to the group.

"Each dip with the chopsticks into the pot costs two yuan. Whatever you grab counts as that, and no getting angry, okay?"

Hiss...

The group gripped their chopsticks, each calculating in their minds.

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