Song Rumiao, a closed disciple of the old God of Cooking, was struck by lightning on the eve of his ascension and entered the Dog-Blooded Overlord.
Good news: The God of Cooking talent is here.
Bad news: She became the "ball" in the plot of Running with the Ball, and her family was too poor to take the blame.
Looking at the beautiful mother who could only shed tears, six-year-old Miaomiao sighed, stepped on the small bench and swung the big iron spoon - life is not easy, and the gods are doing tricks.
In the first year of setting up the stall, the fragrance spread far and wide;
In the fifth year of opening the store, the queue for clear soup noodles lasts until dawn;
In the tenth year of her business, the recipe was hard to come by, and the whole internet begged her to start a live broadcast, find a niche, and recruit disciples.
Mr. Daddy Ba always comes to your door with a contract:
"Come back with me and give me your last name."
Song Rumiao raised her spoon and slapped the contract back:
"Learn to line up first, and then talk about recognizing relatives."
Xie Wanzhui, the young master of the Xie family in Yuncheng, is famous for being aloof, picky about food, and unkind.
During the day, he was a well-dressed heir to a plutocratic family, but at night, he went into the kitchen and washed dishes——
There was a splash of water, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, he raised his eyes and asked her:
"Miaomiao, fame, wealth, opportunities... Whatever you want, I can give it to you. I can also deal with the people you want to avoid for you."
He leaned closer and his breath brushed her ear:
"Can you... Just cook for me?"
He was too close, and the heat and his breath were close to her. Song Rumiao held the spoon so tightly that her knuckles tightened.
She held on to her composure and pushed away his approaching face:
"No, I want to accumulate merit."
Thanks for a late drink:
"Merit? Does it count if I wash the dishes?"
"I washed all the dishes tonight - can you be more partial to me?"
Later, Song Rumiao completed his merits and returned to the Nine Heavens.
But he saw the Xuanming Divine Lord on the throne who was in charge of the severe winter in the three realms and was so cold that the immortals dared not look directly at him. He was slowly rolling up the sleeves of his divine robe.
He stepped down from the altar, leaned over and whispered in her ear:
"Miaomiao, I have chased you through the three realms, and now my merits have been fulfilled—should I be given a title?"
Intention: Walk towards the light even though you are in the mud. Those who work hard will eventually come back!
