Christy smiled, revering Hiril even more. Some people were very approachable despite their high social status.

  If that coachman had tried to force his way into the restaurant, the two 10th-tier magic casters and Duke Abraham might have been annoyed, which was the last thing she wanted to see happen.

  After the carriage pulled over, Hiril and Christy got off and walked towards the back of the waiting lines.

  As he got closer, Hiril couldn’t help but overhear the crowd arguing fiercely over a dish called tofu pudding. They looked as if they were going to punch each other in the face.

  “What is tofu pudding, Miss Christy? And why are they arguing over it?” Hiril asked out of curiosity.

  “Tofu pudding is a dish of Mamy Restaurant,” Christy explained. “It comes in two flavors: sweet and savory. People waiting in the left line prefer the savory flavor, and people in this line like the sweet flavor better. You should try it, it’s very good.”


  “I see. It must be really good if it can make people argue like this, but I don’t have a sweet tooth, so I guess I’ll wait in that line.” With that, Hiril went to the left line.

  Christy didn’t understand why some people would want to eat savory tofu pudding, but she never gave voice to her confusion.

  Tofu pudding was the other reason why Christy was here tonight.

  Last time she’d been here, she had eaten a tofu pudding which had rid her of the pimples that had bothered her for days, and that wasn’t the only good news. She found her skin had become better too.

  The tofu pudding worked even better than magic potions when it came to skin problems, which naturally had surprised Christy.

  Every woman wanted her skin to be soft and smooth, so she felt the tofu pudding alone was worth the trip and waiting.

  At five o’clock, Mag opened the door and welcomed them in with a smile.

  “Good evening, Mag,” Christy said, grateful to Mag for his stinky tofu, which had helped her land a deposit from Duke Abraham.

  Right now, a group of staff from Buffett Banks were counting coins in the duke’s residence.

  They hadn’t finished counting yet, but her superior had told her that her bonus alone would be more than what she had earned last year.

  “Good evening, Miss Christy,” said Mag. He still remembered this beautiful lady, and he had heard from Carla about how she had secured a deal from Duke Abraham with half a plate of stinky tofu. It was not an honorable way to secure a deal, but it was smart.

  Mag took a look at the benevolent-looking gray-haired old man who was walking in with Christy.

  That was when a few words went across Mag’s head. “Hiril, male, 65 years old, a normal human, has palpitations and chest pain. A Peking Duck and some pancakes will alleviate his symptoms.”


  “What?”


  A strange look appeared on Mag’s face. “Since when have you become a doctor, System?”


  “The omniscient door has been updated with the restaurant, and now is able to detect what a body needs, and then recommend food accordingly,” replied the system.

  “Using food to cure diseases? Yeah, that might be a good idea. At least now I know which dishes I should recommend to each customer.”


  A skinny man nodded at Mag, and went straight to the last seat in the corner.

  “Vicennio, male, 30 years old, a normal human. Symptoms: weakness in the back and knees, mental exhaustion, impotence. Have one pepper steak and two roujiamos every day for a week, and the symptoms will be alleviated. No sex in the meantime, or his health will get worse.”


  Mag felt sorry for Vicennio. Hopefully pepper steak and roujiamo will work as well as viagra.

  He then turned around and made for the kitchen. He had another busy night ahead of him.

  “The new dish is so expensive! 2,000 copper coins each. Almost as expensive as a grilled fish!”


  “Looks like I can’t eat it tonight.”


  “The picture is so inviting, though. The skin is shiny brown. How do they do that? It’s even more tempting than the roasted whole suckling pig at Ducas Restaurant.”


  “It sure is expensive, but it says here that it’s enough for two or three people to eat. How about we share a duck and then split the bill?”


  Hiril opened the menu and saw the picture of the Peking Duck. “If the real thing is just like the picture here, then it might be even better than the roast goose in the Roast Goose Restaurant in Rodu. Shall we order a Peking Duck, Miss Christy?”


  “Sure,” Christy said with a smile. She was confident Hiril would love this dish because even that smelly dish called stinky tofu could make Abraham go crazy.