Chapter 161: Yellow Hair, White Hair (Seeking Monthly Votes!)

"Let's put everything else aside and find something to eat first."

Du Ruo stood on the street and headed straight for the nearest restaurant.

For so many days, Du Ruo hadn't had a single proper meal. Eating roasted meat seasoned with nothing but salt at every single meal was making him want to throw up. Right now, all he wanted was a bowl of white rice followed by something rich and heavily flavored.

"Boss, do you have food right now?"

Du Ruo arrived at the entrance of a restaurant. It was still early, and the only people inside were a middle-aged couple chatting, who appeared to be the owner and his wife.

"We sure do, young man. Come on in."

The owner was a big, burly man sitting there with a protruding belly. Seeing Du Ruo standing at the doorway, he waved and motioned for him to come in and sit down.

"Great. Could you just bring me one of everything on the menu, Boss? Also, would you mind charging my phone for me?"

Hearing that food was available, Du Ruo couldn't help a smile from spreading across his face. He found a large table, put down his backpack, and then took out his phone and power bank to charge them at the front counter.

"Charging is no problem at all, but our portions here are quite generous. If you order one of everything on the menu, there's no way you'll be able to finish it."

The owner looked rather fierce, but he was actually a good sort. He looked Du Ruo up and down, and noticing that although Du Ruo was clean, his clothes were tattered, he figured the young man must be starved to be ordering so much. Coupled with Du Ruo's southern accent, the owner feared he might not realize the sheer size of northern restaurant portions, which prompted him to offer a word of warning.

"It's fine, Boss. Just bring it all out."

Du Ruo had already walked up to the counter to hand his phone and power bank to the proprietress, and then, as if something had just occurred to him, he turned back to add:

"Boss, my last meal was in Heihe, and I couldn't even get full off of it. I've been starving all day now—Boss, if you gave me an entire cow, I could finish it."

Du Ruo had originally planned to exercise some restraint, but as soon as he entered the restaurant, he seemed to catch the aroma of food, making the hunger even harder to bear. He couldn't help resorting to a bit of reverse psychology on the owner.

"Young man, just wait right there. I'm going to start cooking for you right now! Wife, bring out the cold dishes and appetizers first! Make sure there's plenty of rice ready—hurry up, don't let the young man starve!"

Hearing Du Ruo talk like that, the owner reacted as if he'd heard a battle horn; his entire demeanor lit up. He grabbed a chef's coat and slipped it on, while urging his wife to get to work.

"These are on the house. Eat up while you wait, the dishes will be ready in a moment."

Before long, the proprietress brought over plates of smashed cucumbers, vegetables with dipping sauce, peanuts, and similar appetizers.

Du Ruo had never really understood vegetable platters with dipping sauce before, but seeing them now, he was like a rabbit spotting a carrot, picking them up and eating immediately.

The soul of a vegetable dipping platter lies in the sauce, and in the Northeast, mixing a delicious bowl of dipping paste was absolute baseline skill. Besides, Du Ruo hadn't eaten fresh greens in ages, and with his taste buds completely deadened, eating fresh vegetables dipped in that savory paste felt utterly heavenly.

With a series of crisp *crunch, crunch* sounds, Du Ruo made short work of an entire basket of vegetables.

"Eh? You like these? I'll bring out another plate for you right away. The main dishes are almost done."

The proprietress was carrying a wooden bucket of freshly steamed rice when she noticed the empty basket of vegetables. A look of surprise crossed her face, quickly replaced by a wide smile, and she turned and hurried back toward the kitchen.

Almost dish by dish, the proprietress carried them out as soon as they were ready: braised pork ribs in bean paste, *guobaorou* (sweet and sour crispy pork), stir-fried dried tofu with sharp peppers, braised pork ribs with green beans, *disanxian* (stir-fried potatoes, eggplants, and peppers), stir-fried pork slices... every single plate was massive.

Yet, no matter what dish was placed on the table, Du Ruo swept it clean in no time at all. And it wasn't just the dishes that were emptied; bucket after bucket of rice vanished alongside them.

"Big brother, eat a bit slower. Don't burn yourself."

The proprietress brought out a plate of candied sweet potatoes (*basi digua*) and couldn't help speaking up when she saw Du Ruo plunging his chopsticks right in without even cooling them in water. Anyone who had ever eaten the dish knew just how blistering hot the melted sugar coating was straight out of the wok.

"It's fine, my skin is thick. Proprietress, ask the Boss to whip up a soup, it's a bit dry."

Du Ruo wore a completely nonchalant expression. Swallowing boiling water might give him some pause due to the risk of scalding his esophagus, but this? This was nothing.

"Alright, coming right up!"

Assured that Du Ruo was fine, the proprietress hurried back toward the kitchen with quick, small steps.

"How is it? Is it enough? Has that young man had his fill yet?"

The owner's spatula was practically flying so fast it looked like it was smoking, both stove burners running at full blast. Seeing his wife walk in, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel and asked.

"You need to cook faster, the food keeps vanishing the second I serve it! Make some soup later. Is the stewed chicken with mushrooms ready yet? That big brother out there must have starved until his eyes went green."

The proprietress didn't even have time to chat with her husband; she picked up another tray of food and headed back out, tossing out a final reminder as she left.

"Well, keep a close eye on him then. Make sure he doesn't burst his stomach."

Hearing this, the owner didn't even have time to take a sip of water before he resumed stir-frying furiously.

It wasn't until Du Ruo had consumed two small buckets of rice and polished off seven or eight dishes that he finally slowed his pace.

This caused the proprietress to breathe a sigh of relief. She had been standing nearby watching him eat the entire time, terrified that his complexion might turn bad or that he would choke from eating too fast.

While Du Ruo had thoroughly enjoyed his meal, the owner and his wife were utterly dumbfounded. They always said that restaurant owners never feared a big eater, but in all the years they had run their mom-and-pop shop, this was the first time they had ever encountered someone with an appetite like this.

"Little brother, how was it? Did the food suit you?"

The owner emerged from the kitchen dripping with sweat, carrying yet another basin of food. He set it down in front of Du Ruo, and looking at the towering stack of empty plates on the table, he couldn't help wiping his brow once more.

"The boss's culinary skills are second to none. I'm completely satisfied."

While speaking, Du Ruo couldn't even be bothered to ladle the soup into a bowl. He simply picked up the large basin of soup directly, and without caring how hot it was, he chugged the entire thing down in one continuous breath.

Seeing this, the owner's mouth twitched uncontrollably. Almost instinctively, both the owner and his proprietress dropped their gazes to Du Ruo's abdomen.

The tiger had slashed a few ragged tears across the front of Du Ruo's shirt. Through those gasps in the fabric, they could see that his stomach was only slightly rounded—completely devoid of the massive, distended bulge one would expect from someone who had just eaten an absurd amount of food.

"As long as you're full, that's what matters. Don't worry about not finishing these dishes, I can pack them up for you to go."

In truth, not only had Du Ruo thoroughly enjoyed his meal, but the owner had found the cooking session immensely satisfying—it had been a long time since he'd cooked with such abandon. However, seeing that there were still two unfinished dishes left on the table, the owner didn't dare let Du Ruo keep eating, and quickly motioned for his wife to help pack the leftovers.

"No need, no need, I can finish them. Proprietress, could you please help me get half a bucket of rice?"

From Du Ruo's perspective, packing leftovers was completely unnecessary. Given his body's absurd digestive capabilities, he digested food almost as fast as he chewed it, immediately converting it into energy and distributing it throughout his physical form, meaning the concept of overeating simply did not apply to him.

The proprietress and the owner could only watch in a daze as Du Ruo systematically finished off every single remaining scrap of food.

"I'm full. That hit the spot. Boss, how much is the bill?"

After finishing, Du Ruo leaned back in his chair, let out a satisfied sigh, and asked for the check.

"Don't worry about it, little brother. Forget about the money; everyone hits hard times. Take a rest, and later I'll pack up some more food for you to take along. By the way, I never asked—where are you from, and where are you headed?"

The owner waved a generous hand. He assumed Du Ruo must have run into some kind of accident or hardship; otherwise, he wouldn't be walking around in rags and looking like he hadn't eaten in months.

"Haha, I still have to pay. I'm just out here on a backpacking trip. My phone happened to die, but I do have money."

Du Ruo chuckled. Northerners really were bold, hospitable, and inherently helpful. If someone truly ran into trouble and asked for aid, these people would genuinely step up to help.

Even so, Du Ruo wasn't one to take advantage. He ultimately paid the bill in cash, and then walked out of the restaurant holding his power bank and a phone that was finally charged enough to use.

Perhaps it was because he was full, or perhaps he had been infected by the warm hospitality of the owner and his wife, but as Du Ruo walked down the street, his mood was remarkably bright. He strolled along, curiously taking in his surroundings.

Along the way, he stopped by a shop to buy two sets of new clothes to toss into his backpack, before finally beginning his search for a place to bathe.

"Business club—baths, soaking pools, sweat rooms, scrub service, and lodging. This place looks decent, I'll go give it a try."

Walking down the street, Du Ruo spotted a lavishly decorated club. He immediately came to a halt and headed in that direction. He had heard tales of northern bathhouse culture for a long time, and today was the perfect day to experience it firsthand.

"Hey bro, coming in alone? Do you have a membership? Care to open a card? We have discounts if you do."

Just as Du Ruo reached the entrance and was looking over the interior decoration, a young employee approached him with an all-inclusive smile, politely inviting him inside. While guiding Du Ruo toward the front desk, the worker continued pitching membership packages.

"No need for a card. What are your rates?"