Gangzi: The Script is Ready, But Where is Tang San?! (First Update)

Wang Sheng was stunned. "Why?"

Su Mo pointed to the ground.

There lay several packages—vegetables and meat bought on the road, along with some seasonings.

There was also a large pot.

That was the one Tang San had forged on the road using the Chaotic Cloak Hammer Technique.

Su Mo swept his gaze across Dormitory Seven.

The place was big enough, and there were plenty of people.

"We're having hot pot."

Wang Sheng was bewildered. "Ho... hot pot?"

Su Mo nodded. "That's right. Once the base is set, you cook it yourselves. Eat as much as you want."

Tang San's eyes lit up.

In his past life, he was a disciple of the Tang Sect and wasn't particularly picky about food, but the very mention of hot pot made it sound delicious.

Xiao Wu didn't even need to be mentioned; she had already circled the pot several times, her nose twitching.

"So fragrant! What is this smell?"

This girl's nose was sharper than a dog's.

Wang Sheng was still hesitant. "But Boss Su, the cafeteria..."

Su Mo waved his hand. "I know. The cafeteria is cheap, and Work-Study Students get a subsidy. But cheap as it is, the food is truly terrible."

He paused, recalling the descriptions from the original story.

"Besides, if we go to the cafeteria, we have to deal with those noble students who have nothing better to do than cause trouble."

Su Mo shook his head.

While showing off and slapping faces was satisfying, he really couldn't muster any interest in doing it to a bunch of little brats.

Wang Sheng fell silent.

He thought about his usual experiences in the cafeteria—the arrogant looks of the noble students, the cold, mocking words, and the disgusting incidents where they would intentionally bump into you and demand an apology.

It was, indeed, very annoying.

He looked at Su Mo, a hint of respect growing in his eyes.

Boss Su understood them.

"Alright!" Wang Sheng slapped his thigh. "Then hot pot it is! We in Dormitory Seven will cook for ourselves!"

Gou Dan, Er Gou, San Wa, Tie Zhu, Shi Tou... the group cheered along.

"Oh, oh, oh—hot pot!"

"I haven't had meat in so long!"

"I'll start the fire!"

"I'll wash the vegetables!"

"Where's the pot? Where's the pot?"

The group busied themselves with great enthusiasm.

Su Mo watched the scene, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.

Tang San leaned in and whispered, "Master, if we don't go to the cafeteria, will we miss any plot points?"

Su Mo glanced at him. "What plot points?"

Tang San thought for a moment. "For example... someone coming to pick a fight, and then getting their face slapped by you?"

Su Mo was silent for a second.

This kid must have read too many novels.

"None." He patted Tang San's bald head. "There's no plot today, only hot pot."

Tang San nodded, then pressed further, "What about tomorrow?"

Su Mo replied, "We'll talk about tomorrow, tomorrow."

Tang San looked thoughtful.

The pot was set up.

The fire was lit.

The soup base melted.

Slices of meat, vegetable leaves, tofu, vermicelli... one by one, they were dropped in.

Steam rose, and the fragrance filled the air.

Wang Sheng squatted by the pot, his eyes fixed intently on the bubbling broth, his mouth nearly watering.

Gou Dan was even more exaggerated, already holding his chopsticks and waiting by the pot, muttering, "Cook fast, cook fast, cook fast..."

Xiao Wu sat beside Su Mo, glancing into the pot from time to time, then sniffing the air with a look of satisfaction.

Tang San stood guard on the other side of the pot, ready to pick up food for Su Mo at any moment.

The Big Black Ox lay not far away, watching this group of humans bustling around the pot, and let out a leisurely "Moo."

(Not bad, at least they didn't count me in this time.)

Su Mo turned back to look at the Big Black Ox: "Come on over, taste it and see if it has the flavor of your second uncle."

"Moo!" (You sneaky rascal!)

Unexpectedly, the Big Black Ox actually came over to the hot pot, picked up a bowl and chopsticks, and sat down.

Truly worthy of being a six-hundred-year-old demon king!

The meat was cooked.

Wang Sheng was the first to pick up a slice, blow on it, and stuff it into his mouth.

Then, his eyes lit up.

"Delicious!"

At the command, seven pairs of chopsticks reached into the pot simultaneously.

"This is mine!"

"I grabbed it first!"

"You clearly grabbed mine!"

"Did you write your name on the stuff in the pot?"

Noisy and boisterous, warm and lively.

Su Mo picked up a slice of meat and put it into his mouth.

Hmm, the taste was alright.

Although the seasonings were simple and the ingredients were average, this piping-hot atmosphere reminded him of his past life.

Back then, he had also often eaten hot pot with his students.

It was just that the students back then were a bit older than these ones.

He looked at the group of children before him.

Wang Sheng was eating with his mouth full of grease.

Gou Dan was wrestling with Er Gou to snatch a piece of meat.

San Wa was grimacing from the heat but refused to put down his chopsticks.

Tie Zhu and Shi Tou, those two quiet types, only knew how to bury their heads and eat fiercely, their chopsticks never stopping.

Tang San was eating while still remembering to pick food for him, his mouth covered in oil.

Xiao Wu sat beside him, and when she was happy eating, she would rub her head against his arm like a satisfied little beast.

Su Mo smiled.

Although these children were, some chuunibyou, some simple-minded, some silly, and some reckless.

But at least—

In this moment, they were all very happy.

Outside the window, the night deepened.

Inside Dormitory Seven, steam rose in thick clouds.

When the meat was gone, they added more.

When the vegetables were gone, they replenished them.

When the broth ran low, they topped it off with water.

A group of people gathered around the pot, eating until they were drenched in sweat, laughing without restraint.

I don't know who started it, but someone began to sing.

It was a ditty popular in Notting City, with simple lyrics and a cheerful tune.

Soon, everyone was singing along.

Xiao Wu didn't know the words, so she just hummed along.

Tang San didn't know them either, but he clapped his hands vigorously, keeping the beat for everyone.

The Big Black Ox lay in the corner, its tail flicking along with the rhythm.

Su Mo watched this scene and revealed a smile.

It felt warm.

Inside Dormitory Seven, steam rose into the air amidst the sounds of laughter and cheer.

Outside Dormitory Seven, the autumn wind blew bleakly, scattering fallen leaves.

Under the same night sky, some were enjoying hot pot, while others were—

Yu Xiaogang sat in the cafeteria, staring blankly at a table of cold, leftover scraps.

He had been there since noon.

Noon.

Now, it was pitch black outside.

Yu Xiaogang looked at the dark night through the window, then at the empty tables and chairs around him, his mind a complete blank.

Where was Tang San?

Where was his fated disciple?

Why hadn't he arrived yet?

According to the memories of his past life, today should have been Tang San's first day of school. In the evening, he would come to the cafeteria to eat, encounter harassment from noble students, and then he himself would step forward, resolve the crisis with a few words, and successfully win Tang San's favor.

He had already written the script.

But the problem was—

The actor hadn't shown up.

Yu Xiaogang had waited all afternoon.

He waited from noon until dusk, and from dusk until nightfall.

People came and went in the cafeteria, wave after wave.

He watched as those noble students entered, ate, and left.

He watched as those Work-Study Students entered, got their food, hid in the corners to finish, and left.

He watched as the cafeteria aunties began wiping tables, sweeping the floor, and clearing away the dishes.

He watched as the kitchen staff began scrubbing pots, washing basins, and preparing ingredients for the next day.

Where was Tang San?

Where was his big, living Tang San?

Yu Xiaogang's stomach let out a loud growl.

He looked down at the leftovers on the table—roasted chicken bones, braised pork sauce, steamed fish scales, a few plates of delicate pastries, and two jugs.

Back at noon, he had been bored while waiting and wanted to boost his own morale, so he had ordered a table full of fine dishes.

Anyway, he would be taking on Tang San soon, so these expenses would be trivial by then.

That was what he had thought at the time.

He had simply forgotten that he was no longer the Spirit King from his past life, backed by the gods.

And so...