Immortal Lord, Your Nectar Is Not as Good as My Iron Pot Stew

Shen Manguo, a girl from the Northeast, inherited the ancestral iron pot left by her grandfather, and came to Luoxiaji on the edge of the world of immortality in a daze, and took over a small restaurant that was about to close down. Here, the Immortal Lord eats grain and the Demon King drinks dew. Everyone laughs at her for being a mortal who doesn't know magic, but dares to serve the monks with pickled vegetables, white meat, ribs and beans stewed. Until the cold sword master who failed to overcome the calamity ate for three days in a row, the Taoist heart that had been cracked for a hundred years quietly healed; the blind Qin Xiu "heard" his hometown from a mouthful of hot soup; and the desperate beings in the three realms gradually regarded this tavern as a safe haven. Only then did Shen Manguo realize that what she was stewing was not just food, but also regrets that no one could swallow. But the greater the reputation of the restaurant, the harder it is to hide the secret of the ancestral iron pot. The Immortal World Shanxiansi came to her door and asked her to hand over the blame. Shen Manguo picked up the spatula and held it in front of the stove: "Want to take my pot? First, ask the people waiting for food in this room if they agree."