Steam rose from the plain noodles.
Chen Wei ate leisurely, chewing each mouthful slowly, putting on every bit of the refinement expected of him.
The old God of Wealth, Chen Jiugong, had an entirely different manner. He ate with gusto, garlic in his left hand and golden chopsticks in his right. Before the pungency of a bite of raw garlic had even dispersed, he shoveled in a huge mouthful of plain noodles.
There was a saying in the Mortal Realm: noodles without garlic lose half their flavor.
Immortals had no need to eat, much less sully themselves with pungent mortal foods.
According to the Heavenly Court's confidential histories, Chen Jiugong had descended to the Mortal Realm to undergo his trials, mingling in a mortal dynasty as a corrupt official who scraped the people's fat and marrow and wielded power over court and country. Later, his crimes came to light, and the emperor ordered his execution. On the night before he was to be escorted to the execution ground, he came to his senses in his death-row cell.
Thus, he washed away the worldly glitter, brought his merit to completion, and returned to the ranks of the immortals.
As for why he had needed to descend to undergo trials in the first place, the histories glossed over it with vague, evasive wording.
Yet somehow, even after becoming an immortal again, he had been unable to shake his habit of eating plain noodles with raw garlic?
Immortals might undergo trials, but their true nature was hard to change.
He governed the fortunes of the Three Realms, yet favored plain noodles. It looked as though he had nothing but a clean breeze in his sleeves, recalling hardship to savor his present blessings. In truth, he merely used those noodles to relive his turbulent