"Depart?"
"Depart now?"
Sea Star Douluo stood there, completely dumbfounded, his mind buzzing as if someone had slammed a brick straight into his skull.
"Go?"
"Go now?!"
"I just had one bite! Just one bite!!"
That single mouthful hadn't even been properly savored, yet the soul-shaking fragrance was already gone.
Involuntarily, scenes from Sea God Island replayed in his mind like a cursed slideshow.
Breakfast: steamed sea bass.
Lunch: braised sea grouper.
Dinner: pan-fried hairtail with fish soup.
Day after day.
Year after year.
That familiar fishy stench felt like it had seeped into his bones—no, into his bloodline.
Then he recalled that one spoonful just now.
Golden rice.
Soft egg.
Fresh green onions.
A flavor so fragrant it bordered on sacrilege.
That was heaven.
Seeing Bo Saixi truly turn around and walk toward the exit without a trace of hesitation, Sea Star Douluo's body reacted faster than his thoughts.
Almost instinctively, he blurted out—
"No!"
"Can't go!"
His voice was sharp, urgent, and cracked slightly at the end.
All eyes in the restaurant immediately snapped back onto him.
Bo Saixi, who had already reached the doorway, paused.
She slowly turned her head, her breathtakingly beautiful face filled with sincere, innocent confusion.
From an angle no one else could see, the corners of her lips lifted ever so slightly.
"Hm?"
"Why?"
Her sea-blue eyes were clear and spotless, as if she truly didn't understand.
"Sea Star," she asked gently,
"weren't you just crying and insisting I return to Sea God Island?"
"Why aren't you leaving now?"
Sea Star Douluo's face flushed crimson.
He felt as if everyone in the restaurant was looking at him like he was mentally deficient.
Could he say I just want to eat another bowl?
He was one of the Seven Sacred Pillars of Sea God Island!
Didn't he need some dignity?!
All that shame and anger instantly found a target.
He whipped his head around, eyes blazing, locking onto the culprit—
Sea Horse Douluo, who was trying desperately to fold himself into a corner and disappear.
"Sea Horse!"
"It's all your fault, you bastard!"
"If you hadn't let me take that bite, would I be like this?!"
"I could still be a loyal, carefree Douluo whose only thought was returning home!"
"But now look at me! My heart is in turmoil! My Dao Heart is unstable!"
Feeling that murderous gaze, Sea Horse Douluo shrank his neck and quietly, stealthily shuffled behind Qian Daoliu.
Qian Daoliu even obligingly stepped half a pace forward, broad chest puffed out, shielding most of him.
Seeing the culprit safely hidden, Sea Star Douluo could only grit his teeth and turn back to Bo Saixi.
He forced a smile uglier than crying, desperately searching for an excuse.
"High Priestess, look… this… the journey back is long."
"Wouldn't it be better if we rested a bit, ate first, and then returned? It wouldn't be too late."
Bo Saixi tilted her head, appearing to consider it seriously.
Then she gently patted her flat, perfectly toned stomach.
"It's fine," she said softly.
"I've already eaten."
She smiled serenely.
"See? I'm very full."
Sea Star Douluo screamed internally.
You ate! I didn't!
I'm starving!
I'm about to die of hunger!
But even if it killed him, he couldn't say that out loud.
In the end, all his resistance collapsed into one pitiful sentence.
"But… High Priestess… your subordinate is a little hungry…"
Just then—
A voice descended like divine salvation.
"Ah, that's easy!"
Qian Daoliu strode over, smiling warmly like a spring breeze.
He stopped beside Sea Star Douluo and clapped him heavily on the shoulder, nearly knocking him sideways.
"Guests from afar are always welcome!"
The High Priest puffed out his chest, righteous and magnanimous.
"How could I, Qian Daoliu, allow a guest to travel on an empty stomach?"
"If word got out, wouldn't people laugh at Spirit Hall for lacking hospitality?"
Hope ignited instantly in Sea Star Douluo's eyes.
There's a chance!
He looked at Qian Daoliu with trembling anticipation.
"Then—"
"Then I'll trouble the High Priest!"
He had already decided: the moment food was mentioned, he'd sprint to the counter.
However—
Under his hopeful gaze, Qian Daoliu casually flipped his wrist.
Flash.
Two rock-hard, heavily salted wind-dried fish appeared in his hand, emitting a choking briny stench.
"Here."
Qian Daoliu handed them over cheerfully.
"Deep-sea bluefin perch. Sun-dried by the sea for forty-nine days—pure flavor locked inside."
"Rare on the continent. A small token of Spirit Hall's regard."
"Eat them on the road. They'll fill you up."
Sea Star Douluo froze.
He stared at the two salted fish—stiff, lifeless eyes staring back at him—and felt blood rush straight to his head.
At that moment, Bo Saixi walked over perfectly on cue.
"Sea Star, see how considerate the High Priest is."
"Quickly take them. Let's hurry on our way. Don't waste any more time."
Around them, the entire restaurant fell silent.
Everyone could see it clearly.
Sea Star Douluo just wanted a bowl of egg fried rice.
And yet these two—utterly shameless—had coordinated this cruelty flawlessly.
Not far away, Lion Douluo's mouth twitched.
He nudged Golden Crocodile Douluo with his elbow and whispered,
"Second Brother… don't you feel the High Priest and High Priestess are starting to act more and more like a married couple?"
Golden Crocodile Douluo watched, eyes wide, as Bo Saixi calmly pulled several more salted fish of varying sizes from her spirit tool and stuffed them into Sea Star Douluo's arms.
He nodded expressionlessly.
"Mm."
Then added flatly,
"And the extremely shameless kind."
Faced with the mountain of salted fish, Sea Star Douluo finally collapsed.
He looked at Qian Daoliu's mischievous smile.
Then at Bo Saixi's "meticulously caring" gaze.
Finally, his eyes fell on the pile of salted fish radiating a destiny-bound fishy odor.
His throat bobbed.
"Ugh—!"
A loud, dry heave echoed.
Bo Saixi paused, genuine concern appearing on her face.
"Sea Star, what's wrong?"
Sea Star Douluo slowly raised his head.
He lifted his trembling right hand and made a finger-gun gesture.
Two clear streams of tears slid silently down his resolute cheeks.
His voice was filled with bottomless despair.
"Eighty years…"
"A full eighty years!"
He suddenly flung the salted fish away, sobbing like a child who had lost his way.
"I've eaten fish for eighty years!!!"
"Now, just seeing them makes me—"
"Ughhh!!!"