By nightfall, Tail Alley was practically empty of pedestrians. Whether Qin Xiaopang could get his first bite of food today depended entirely on Mandarin Jacket Man's charity.
Mandarin Jacket Man was eating a bowl of Mutton Noodles. Half the broth was meat stock, the other half mutton oil, and the mutton oil was full of bright red chilies. He ate until hot sweat streamed down his face.
The fragrance of mutton and chilies drifted into Xiaopang's nose, eroding the last scraps of his dignity bit by bit.
"Give me a kowtow. As long as you kowtow, I'll give you a sip of broth." Mandarin Jacket Man carried the bowl over to Qin Xiaopang.
There was no way he was kowtowing.
Mandarin Jacket Man slurped up a mouthful of scalding broth. "You've been kneeling here all day. Are you still afraid of giving a kowtow?"
He was kneeling here because he had been struck by a spell. His lower body was immobilized, and only some of the joints in his upper body could move. Otherwise, even with his last breath, he would have fought this Mandarin Jacket Man to the bitter end.
Mandarin Jacket Man sighed. "I know you Food Cultivators. If you go a day without eating, your stomach and intestines catch fire. The flames burn all the way to your throat, inch by inch across your heart, liver, spleen, and stomach. Just thinking about it makes me uncomfortable."
As he spoke, Mandarin Jacket Man slurped another mouthful of noodles. "I truly pity you. Just sincerely give me a kowtow, and I'll immediately give you a sip of broth. I guarantee it'll let you live another day.
Kowtow. Hurry up and kowtow.
Don't think that just because you want to die, I'll let you die today. If you won't drink