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The wok was emitting clouds of steam which rose into the dark night. Floating high up into the sky, the clouds slowly dispersed. Bu Fang removed the lid from the pot, which allowed the fragrance of the soup to permeate the air.
The dish he was preparing was still the Sour Spicy Soup. What choice did he have? The types of ingredients he had were extremely limited. There were countless pieces of potatoes boiling in the Sour Spicy Soup, along with pieces of mushroom that danced around the broth as the liquid bubbled.
Although the soup was already thoroughly boiled, Bu Fang allowed the fire under the pot to continue burning. With a bowl in his hand, he leisurely scooped himself a serving of the soup as he walked over to a corner. Taking a deep breath, he scooped a mouthful of soup into his mouth. In a distant place, the other army cooks were diligently making their dishes. On the road, all they experienced were fear and trepidation. Their nerves were taut the entire journey, and they were finally able to loosen themselves up.
They were finally completely and thoroughly relaxed. As Bu Fang drank this bowl of delicious Sour Spicy Soup, he felt a warm current flow through his entire body.