The task had a twenty-percent success rate. In other words, there was an eighty-percent chance that Bu Fang would fail. The failure rate was four times higher than the success rate. 

Any sane man would close his eyes and refuse the task once he learned the failure rate. Therefore, the System was surprised that Bu Fang chose to accept it, and he did so without hesitation. Once accepted, the task could not be stopped, and once it was stopped, he would be wiped out by the System.

Bu Fang's decision baffled the System. After a long time, it finally spoke again in the same serious voice, "The Host has accepted the task. The task will start now. Releasing the recipe of the Three-cup Divine Chicken. Please accept it, Host."

The moment the System's voice rang out, Bu Fang's eyes began to flicker. Standing on the spot, he became lost in thought as vast information rushed into his head. 

In his spirit sea, the Divine Dragon, Vermilion Bird, White Tiger, and Black Turtle looked up at a book that emerged in midair. They appeared to be somewhat shocked. It was a golden book entirely condensed of spiritual energy. Violent waves kept spreading from it, which frightened even the Artifact Spirits.

"That's… the God of Cooking's Menu?!"

"What? Why is Little Host exposed to the God of Cooking's Menu so early?"

"Is the System trying to force Little Host to his death? Why is it revealing the God of Cooking's Menu now…"

The Artifact Spirits were all astonished, while the Divine Dragon and the Vermilion Bird talked with each other noisily.

"Hmph! The System is stirring up trouble. Little Host is only a Two-revolution Little Saint. What would be his success rate of cooking a dish from the God of Cooking's Menu? Ten percent? Twenty percent? In any case, the success rate is too low," the White Tiger said in a proud voice.

"This is not what we could worry about… Let's just do our job." The Black Turtle spoke, and immediately, the whole spirit sea fell silent.

Bu Fang had no idea what was happening in his spirit sea. At this moment, he was already absorbed in reading and understanding the contents of the God of Cooking's recipe that poured into his head.

'Three-cup Divine Chicken…'

He took a deep breath, and there seemed to be golden patterns swirling in his eyes. The dish was derived from a dish on Earth called the Three-cup Chicken. Bu Fang was naturally familiar with it. However, his face grew unsightly for the first time after he read the cooking method. He finally understood why the System said his success rate was only twenty percent, and that was actually an optimistic estimation. If he were to estimate himself, it would be less than ten percent.

It was too difficult.

Frowning, he turned and walked into the kitchen. He stood in front of the stove, took a deep breath, and pondered over the details described in the recipe with flickering eyes.

The devil is in the details. No matter what you do, they are the most important, and cooking is even more so. Every detail in cooking can determine the taste of the dish. As a chef, Bu Fang must have the consciousness of paying attention to those details.

The dish was called Three-cup Divine Chicken because the main seasonings were only three cups: one cup of soy sauce, one cup of sesame oil, and one cup of rice wine. Since he could only use three cups of seasoning to cook a dish, the difficulty was naturally great.

With a buzzing sound, ingredients appeared over the stove. They were ordinary, without spiritual energy or immortal energy. In fact, they looked like the common ingredients he could buy in the market in his previous life. Of course, they were of excellent quality.

A plucked chicken was placed in a blue-and-white porcelain bowl, but it was not ready. Bu Fang needed to further prepare it. He didn't start rashly, and he didn't dare to. Once he failed, he would be wiped out. When the System said that, it was emotionless. Bu Fang believed that if he really failed, the System would kill him without hesitation. It would not show mercy just because he was the host.

Therefore, Bu Fang did not dare to be careless.

He closed his eyes and calmed himself down. After three seconds, he opened his eyes, and they were calm and indifferent, without any hint of emotion. He didn't fear that he would be obliterated once he failed, nor did he feel uneasy about the low success rate. All he had now was the calmness and easy assurance of a chef.

He placed the Black Turtle Constellation Wok over the White Tiger Heaven Stove. Flames jumped into the stove and began to burn, bursting with scorching heat. With a calm look in his eyes, he poured the water into the wok. He didn't use the Spring of Life this time but the water prepared by the System, which was sweet and refreshing. However, it did not contain spiritual energy or immortal energy as well.

When the water boiled, he scooped it out into a blue-and-white porcelain bowl. As he didn't wrap his palms with true energy, the boiling water put a frown on his brows.

Carefully, he plucked all the feathers from the chicken, sparing not even the tiniest hair. After examining it and making sure that it was clean, he removed it from the bowl and placed it on the chopping board. His hands were already red from the boiling water.

Bu Fang paused for a moment. Suddenly, he felt like he was cooking like a normal man again.

He took out the Dragon Bone Kitchen Knife, spun it in his hand, and used it to remove the chicken thighs. After chopping them into chunks, he placed them on a plate for later use.

Next, he poured oil into the wok, which came to a boil in no time at all, and then he added the chicken chunks into the oil. That was when his mental force exploded out, for what came next was the most important step that would decide his fate.

Bu Fang's divine will surged, and his mental force was spinning rapidly in his spirit sea. At this moment, everything became slower in his eyes. The boiling oil in the wok seemed to have frozen, its bubbles rising and bursting slowly as they broke the surface. When his mental force went into the wok like fine threads, he could even see that the heat in the oil infused the meat and cooked it.

In his spirit sea, the Artifact Spirits were holding their breaths.

"Not even a mistake is allowed."

"The dish in the God of Cooking's Menu must be perfectly cooked. Otherwise, it could not be included in the Menu."

"As long as there's a slight mistake, it means failure, and Little Host will be obliterated!" 

The Artifact Spirits watched with mixed emotions. They had existed for a very long time, and they had seen many, many things. They never thought that this moment would come so early. If truth be told, this was also their test for the host. If Bu Fang could pass the test, he would be truly accepted by them, and they would wholeheartedly assist him in embarking on the path to become a God of Cooking. As Artifact Spirits, they needed to be very cautious before giving out their hearts. 

Meanwhile, golden oil dripped into a bowl from the meat. After shaking off the last few drops of oil, Bu Fang began to prepare the next step. He had memorized every step of the recipe.

This dish from the God of Cooking's Menu was about making the best dish with the most common ingredients. This required very high cooking skills for a chef. Only by perfectly grasping every opportunity could a chef cook a dish to perfection.



Outside the restaurant, the horrible battle continued. Prison Overlord Ying Long, who had broken through recently, and Nether King Er Ha were fighting with Black Demon. The din of their fight could be heard everywhere. At the same time, in the boundless battlefield between the sky and the stars, several figures were clashing at high speed. Whenever they collided, powerful energy spread and swept out in all directions, causing some damaged warships drifting in the void to break down further.

The clash of Great Saints was extremely terrifying.

In the restaurant, Nethery sat in the chair with a pale face. The constant stabs of pain in her made her furrow her brows. 

Lying in her arms, Foxy stuck out her tongue and licked Nethery's cheek, giving her some warmth while caressing her cheeks with her fluffy tails as if to relieve her pain.

… 

In the kitchen, Bu Fang was concentrating on cooking. His eyes were wide and bloodshot. He dared not make a mistake, so he had to be highly focused. If one looked carefully, they would see that his hand that was holding the kitchen knife was trembling slightly. Although he told himself that he just had to cook like usual, when it came to actual cooking, he still found it hard to suppress the fear in his heart.

Sizzle!

He poured the sesame oil into the wok, which was the dish's first cup of seasoning. As the oil came to a boil, he added the chopped scallion and ginger. He began to stir-fry. His mental force exploded out once again, and everything seemed to turn slower in his eyes.

When the fragrance was brought out by the stir-fry, Bu Fang drained the oil and added the chicken that he had patted dry. He continued to stir-fry and toss the wok. The recipe had very strict requirements for the angle, force, and speed of wok tossing, and a mistake in any of these would cause the dish to fail.

Beads of sweat rolled off his forehead, and the bloodshot in his eyes seemed to have obscured his vision. Bu Fang was already very tired.

After stir-frying for about five minutes and tossing the wok dozens of times, the color of the chicken finally changed. At this moment, Bu Fang added the second cup, the rice wine. It was ordinary rice wine, yellow and cloudy, but the smell of it was unforgettable to him.

As soon as the wine was added, the wok seemed about to explode. The dish began to boil, filling the air with a sizzling sound. He covered the wok with a lid and let it simmer.

A few moments later, Bu Fang took a deep breath and grabbed the last cup of seasoning placed on the cooking bench. However, when his fingers touched the cup, his body suddenly froze, and he couldn't move at all. Even then, the veins in his eyes bulged and burst. He slowly closed his bloodshot eyes. Bloody tears flowed out from the corners of his eyes, trickled down his cheeks, and fell to the ground.

The immortal flame in the stove began to flicker violently at this moment as if it was about to die off.

"It's over!"

"Shit! Little Host is about to fail… The dish is indeed too much for Little Host's current cultivation base. His mental force had just stepped into the level of divine will, and it's not strong enough!"

"He would be obliterated if he failed… The path to becoming a God of Cooking is too difficult to walk. Even Little Host had failed to complete it…"

In Bu Fang's spirit sea, the Artifact Spirits were shocked by the sudden change, and they all sighed when they sensed his current situation. The narcissistic Divine Dragon, the vivacious Vermilion Bird, the boring Black Turtle, and the cocky White Tiger all felt sorry for him.

Perhaps, that was the last emotion they could give to the host of this generation.

… 

In Yellow Spring Little Restaurant, Nethery seemed to sense something, and she turned to look at the kitchen. Foxy also raised her head.

In the battlefield between the sky and the stars, an enormous black dog gave the little restaurant a complicated look from the corners of his eyes.

Meanwhile, in the Heaven and Earth Farmland, the sky had turned bloody, while Niu Hansan could be seen standing in front of the wooden hut with a complex look on his face.

… 

In the kitchen, Bu Fang's body was trembling violently. The sweat dripping from his forehead and the blood trickling from the corners of his eyes seemed to mix.

Suddenly, he flicked open his eyes, revealing a pair of bloody eyeballs.