Chapter 20: So delicious—wait, I mean, these buns are truly fragrant.

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Lou Batian had a rugged appearance. Standing beside Li Wan, they formed a striking beauty-and-beast pair. His muscular arms looked capable of pulverizing someone with a single punch. Whether it was just her imagination or not, Lu Wu felt a strange familiarity in his appearance—he resembled that notorious bandit who always wore a hood.

Just as she was about to look away, Lu Wu noticed faint stains on his collar, tinged yellow, marks left by the soup from the steamed buns. As he approached, she caught the lingering aroma of spicy beef vermicelli buns on him—a unique recipe she would never mistake.

The mystery was solved: this was indeed the bandit! Lu Wu’s pupils constricted in shock. What kind of incomprehensible performance art was this? Would he put on the hood and become unloved by everyone again?

Although her gaze was subtle, the couple were no ordinary people and quickly noticed her recognition. After exchanging a glance, Li Wan playfully thumped Lou Batian’s chest. “I told you not to mess around, but you wouldn’t listen. Aren’t you afraid Boss Lu will laugh at you?”

Lou Batian scratched his nose and grinned sheepishly without denying it.

Ever since he wrested a bun from his son’s mouth, Lou Batian had fallen in love with Lu Wu’s buns—the exquisite flavors had completely captivated him. After hearing his son’s enthusiastic praise, the couple had decided to support the bun stall.

Upon learning about the purchase limit, Lou Batian, having tasted the buns himself, could not bear the thought of being limited to just two. So, he spent a large sum to buy a spot at the front of the queue and purchased buns from others using less-than-honest means to fill his appetite.

As the town’s leader, such conduct, if seen, would cause a scandal. Hence, he donned a hood to disguise himself as a bandit, hoping to conceal his identity. But the town was so small that even with his face covered, his physique and demeanor made him recognizable to many.

Lou Batian was a leader who rose through sheer force; the townspeople dared to resent him but not to speak up.

Hearing the explanation, Lu Wu smiled wryly. She now knew whose traits Lou Xiaotian had inherited—but thankfully, his looks took after the fairy-like Li Wan.

“Thank you both for your recognition,” Lu Wu said gratefully. It was an honor that such big shots had gone to such lengths to enjoy her buns.

Just as Lu Wu thought this was an exception, halfway through selling, a new situation arose.

“People from the Yellow Fist Sect, this street belongs to us! Everyone clear out!” a domineering voice exploded into the air.

The voice carried spiritual energy, causing those with weaker cultivation to cover their ears in discomfort.

Lu Wu should have been affected too, but at that moment, several protective shields enveloped her—some from Lou Batian and his wife, others from influential patrons hidden among the crowd.

Looking up, Lu Wu saw a group of men in uniform yellow robes flying overhead, hands behind their backs, arrogantly gesturing down at the people below.

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“Are you Boss Lu?” an elderly man with a goatee appeared beside Lu Wu. The suddenness nearly made her drop the buns.

“Yes, that’s me. And you, elder, are…” Before she could finish, the sect’s disciples landed and began using force to drive away other customers.

Naturally, the patrons resisted grimly, their faces darkening. Within moments, conflicts erupted everywhere.

“I am an elder of the Yellow Fist Sect. I have come to recruit you into our sect. Though you are a mere mortal, we do not mind,” the old man said magnanimously. “From now on, you will stay with us and specialize in making buns.”

His tone was condescending as he scrutinized Lu Wu.

The day before, a disciple from the Yellow Fist Sect had come here and was lucky enough to buy Lu Wu’s buns. This disciple happened to be the elder’s spoiled grandson. Finding only two buns insufficient, he tried to forcefully buy more but was held back by the crowd.

Resentful, he brought his men to claim the place.

In the Qingyuan Realm, many cultivators looked down on mortals. Now, Lu Wu was the object of such disdain.

This wasn’t a negotiation—more a unilateral command, and the arrogance darkened Lu Wu’s expression.

“I…” she was about to refuse when the imperious elder before her was suddenly struck by an invisible force and hurled into the sky.

“Ah!” came his scream.

Through her keen eyesight, Lu Wu could barely make out something pounding the elder relentlessly.

Even the brash Yellow Fist disciples were thrown into the air, sharing the same fate.

Wham! Wham! The sounds of qi explosions echoed repeatedly.

They were like malleable clay, twisted and shaped at will.

“Who—who dares harm members of the Yellow Fist Sect?” the elder shouted in terror, trying to regain control of his body.

But his distorted face, swollen and bruised, made him look like a pig’s head.

He couldn’t call for help or even fight back.

The tragic scene of bloodshed across the sky left Lu Wu speechless.

It couldn’t be some supernatural event, could it?

“Be careful not to kill them,” a gentle voice floated down—it was Li Wan.

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She stood beside Lou Batian, smiling as she watched the scene unfold, a hint of eagerness in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’m careful with my strikes, and I’m not the only one acting,” she said.

Their conversation made Lu Wu realize that the big shots were right beside her.

“Boss Lu, don’t worry. With us here, this so-called Yellow Fist Sect is just begging for death,” Lou Xiaotian chuckled, signaling her not to worry.

Among the crowd, eyes met knowingly.

Just because they behaved properly in front of Boss Lu didn’t mean they were easygoing.

The reckless behavior of the Yellow Fist Sect deserved a lesson. Otherwise, how could they survive in the cultivation world?

“Boss, I want to buy buns!” some onlookers, eager for excitement, treated Lu Wu’s buns like snacks.

Business went on.

Thus, a spectacle unfolded on Yanliu Street:

In the sky, people cried out as they were beaten.

On the ground, others wailed in frustration at missing out on buns.

And many more commented loudly.

“That punch isn’t as spicy as these buns.”

“Right, this beef bun is fiery, just like that slap—fiery and loud. No, it’s truly delicious.”

“Oh my, the soup just sprayed all over my face… Here, take a punch! Who told you to spit blood so casually?”

Snippets of conversation drifted to Lu Wu’s ears, leaving her utterly amazed.

It wasn’t that she lacked experience; it was that these people were utterly wild.

Many hands struck, and the countless blows rendered the Yellow Fist Sect helpless, like lambs to the slaughter.

Only after Lu Wu sold her very last bun were they finally thrown down.

The Yellow Fist disciples curled on the ground, wailing in pain.

It was over.

Lu Wu puckered her lips, wishing she had sold more slowly; she hadn’t even finished watching.

“Brothers, I heard these people came after Boss Lu because their sect leader was incompetent,” someone threw out a juicy piece of gossip.

“After eating a bun yesterday, he suddenly realized he could be capable and wanted to kidnap Boss Lu to cook exclusively for him.”

No one knew who dropped this bombshell.

As the victim, Lu Wu closed up her stall and joined the crowd in enjoying the spectacle.

The considerate Miss Furong even brought Lu Wu a small stool.

Sitting at the entrance of the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, Lu Wu listened intently.