The Gamer who traveled to Honkai: Star Rail

Hearing March 7th's explanation, Bailu nodded in agreement. "Exactly! But in my eyes, Ah Guang is just a great guy who always pulls out tasty food for me~ Oh! He's at the stall now—let's go help out!"

March 7th cheered, "Let's go!"

Stelle, March 7th, and Bailu headed off to lend a hand, while Mingxi hesitated for a moment. After thinking it over, she decided to see if he needed any help as well.

And that's when things got even weirder for her.

Mingxi already knew Pei Guang had an incredible knack for cooking—he could toss a few chicken legs into a pot, and after some sizzling magic, end up with perfect fried chicken. But following him this time, she witnessed something that made her question the very fabric of reality.

By the time they reached the stall, dozens of curious onlookers had gathered. To promote his fried chicken, Pei Guang fired up an advertisement.

"Crazy, crazy Aurum Alley~ Fried chicken, just 99~~"

Jing Yuan's manic voice echoed through the crowd, effectively implanting the jingle into everyone's minds. Especially for the Sky-Faring Commission employee, who couldn't help but mutter after hearing it on loop a few times, "This ad… it's weirdly catchy. But why does this voice sound so familiar?"

Curious onlooker: "Yeah, it really does. I feel like I've heard it somewhere before."

Another passerby: "Why overthink it? Maybe it's just some template they used for the ad. Who hasn't heard these generic voices before?"

Sky-Faring Commission employee: "No, it's not a template. This voice… it's definitely familiar…"

That nagging feeling of recognition without being able to place it was like an itch in the back of the mind—frustratingly persistent.

Pei Guang loved seeing that look of vague familiarity mixed with confusion. Smiling, he addressed the crowd, "It's just an ordinary ad. If you like it, feel free to record it and send it to your friends. Also! If you're not planning to buy anything, don't block the stall—you're getting in the way of my business~"

Pei Guang found running a food stall surprisingly fun. After all, he'd managed to beat the entire Overcooked series with his online friends. But, in real life, actually working as a chef? Watching all these people crowd around without buying anything made him want to kick them all away.

Sky-Faring Commission employee: "I'll buy! Of course, I'll buy. Benefactor, give me two servings of your fried chicken."

It was just fried chicken, after all. The employee figured no matter how bad it tasted, it couldn't be that bad. Buying two servings was his way of supporting Pei Guang's stall.

Besides, according to Pei Guang, this was part of revitalizing Aurum Alley. The employee had fond memories of this place—memories tied to someone dear to him, who was no longer around after a crisis decades ago.

That thought brought a pang of sadness, but he quickly shook it off. As a Xianzhou native and a Sky-Faring Commission employee, he knew that lingering too long on sorrowful memories could lead one down the path of mara corruption.

Hearing someone make a purchase seemed to trigger the crowd's appetite. Pei Guang turned to the others, "So, are you buying or not?"

After a brief hesitation, the crowd responded with a unanimous, "Buy!"

Pei Guang did a quick headcount—thirty-three people. Some wanted one serving, others two. Fifty servings in total.

Pei Guang: "Perfect. Just enough for one batch!"

With that, he pulled out a large pot, set it up, and began filling it with 150 chicken drumsticks, tossing in a few vegetables for good measure. Under everyone's watchful eyes, he placed the lid on the pot.

Mingxi and the others arrived just in time to witness this. They saw Pei Guang stuff the pot to the brim with chicken legs and seasoning, light the fire, and cover it. A sizzling sound filled the air, lasting only a few seconds before Pei Guang lifted the lid.

The moment the lid came off, Mingxi's face froze. She wasn't alone—everyone who had come to watch stood in stunned silence.

They had all seen him put in chicken legs, but somehow, what came out were whole chickens. Whole, perfectly fried chickens, without even a drop of oil used in the process.

The crowd was speechless. The people of Xianzhou had witnessed all kinds of bizarre things—abominations of abundance running rampant, grotesque mutations—but this? Turning drumsticks into full chickens? 

That was a first.

Mingxi, in particular, felt like her worldview had just been shattered. She had already thought it was absurd when Pei Guang managed to produce a whole chicken from a single drumstick before. But now? An entire pot producing fifty whole chickens in one go?

Was this really a cooking pot… or some kind of synthesis machine?

Although food synthesis machines could create meals, even they followed some basic principles. But Pei Guang's pot? Sure, tossing in chicken drumsticks was one thing—but how did more whole chickens come out than the number of drumsticks that went in? Who could even begin to explain that?

In truth, this wasn't even Pei Guang's limit. The only reason he made just fifty servings at once was because the pot was too small. If it were larger, producing ninety-nine or even nine hundred and ninety-nine servings wouldn't be an issue.

Seeing Mingxi's frozen expression, March 7th chuckled. "See? I told you not to overthink it. Just treat this as normal. Look at Ah Guang—he's got so much to sell, and there's no way he can handle it alone. I'll go help."

Stelle chimed in, "I'll help too!"

Bailu: "I'll help eat!"

Sushang: "I'm in too! I've got a loud voice—I can shout to attract more people!"

No one pointed out that Bailu's idea of "helping" was a little different from the others. But for Pei Guang, that wasn't a problem. As long as Bailu was happy, he'd happily stuff her with fried chicken until she couldn't move.

Sure, his cooking methods were… unorthodox. But in a world with company-grade synthesis machines, it wasn't entirely unbelievable. The difference was that synthesized food, while edible, often depended heavily on programming to determine whether it was actually good.

As for Pei Guang's fried chicken? Well, that had to be tasted to be believed. The Sky-Faring Commission employee, momentarily stunned, snapped back to his senses when Pei Guang handed him a neatly packaged piece of fried chicken. Without hesitation, he tore it open and took a bite.

The moment the flavors hit his tongue, his eyes widened in pure, unfiltered delight.

"This—this is incredible! The taste is absolutely perfect. The texture, the flavor—it's like every bite fills you with bliss. I don't know what kind of technique you used, but this flavor is flawless. Benefactor, can I have ten more?"

Pei Guang grinned. "As many as you want!"

With a pot that could crank out fifty servings in mere seconds, ten pieces were nothing. Even if someone wanted a hundred, he could manage it effortlessly.

And it wasn't just the Sky-Faring Commission employee. Others who had tagged along out of curiosity found themselves equally surprised. After just one bite, their faces lit up with joy. Was it so delicious it'd make people lose their minds? Maybe not.

But was it exceptional? Absolutely. Many who visited Aurum Alley were food enthusiasts, well-versed in fine cuisine. They'd tasted more luxurious dishes, sure—but food that hit this perfect balance of flavor, texture, and satisfaction? That was rare.

Especially with something as common as fried chicken. Anyone could fry chicken, but making it this good? That was a different story.

Add to that the fact that it was made by Pei Guang—with the bonus of fan bias—and it elevated the taste even more. Good food plus Pei Guang's charm? People were more than happy to buy a few extra servings.

For some, though, the appeal wasn't just the taste. They bought more just to watch Pei Guang's "cooking performance." After all, how often do you see someone throw drumsticks into an ordinary pot over an ordinary fire and pull out perfectly cooked, whole fried chickens? It was like magic.

Unfortunately, this world didn't have a certain golden-haired guy around. If he'd seen this, he'd definitely have found a way to one-up Pei Guang, pulling off some ridiculous "two drumsticks and a flower equals gourmet cuisine" trick just for the show.