On the third day of time travel, I became a thief who stole the secret recipe. I was expelled from Shan'antang and the whole city was banned. In a desperate situation, a soy milk pot was set up in front of the City God's Temple. The human fireworks system is bound: the better the breakfast, the higher the fireworks value, and the recipes, spiritual materials, and cultivation can be changed. On the first day, a pot of soy milk was fried for half the street; on the seventh day, a bowl of tofu curd helped the old monk pass the test on the spot. But the system said - the God of Cooking is dead, you are the fire. The dominoes that the shopkeeper of Shan'antang keeps close to his body are exactly the same as the one in my arms.
