It was the third day of the Netherworld's Tournament of the Great Path.
In a corner of the Forbidden Soul City's central square, a wooden stall had been set up. Since it was still early, there were no customers queuing in front of it. The morning sun broke through the clouds and cast a soft glow over the stall.
Steam was rising from the stall, while the sound of sizzling oil filled the air. Nethery held Foxy in her arms and stood at the side of the stall, looking curiously at Bu Fang.
Bu Fang rolled up his sleeves, revealing his slender and fair arms. He wore a serious expression and was working with a blue-and-white porcelain bowl in his hand. It was a big bowl. He held it in one hand while his other hand was stirring it constantly. Plumes of spirit essence kept wafting out of it, accompanied by a faint fragrance.
