The crowd wanted to squeeze this impertinent girl to death with their bare hands. A pot of golden soup shimmering from the dragon tendon of a ninth step dragon king? The other kings wouldn’t dare take a sip even if they wanted a bite!

But this brazen wench turned her nose up at it and complained that it lacked flavor?

Dark expressions appeared on many cultivator and arcane beast faces.

“What’s… salt?” the Yin Yang King asked dumbly with a blank look. How would a character of his level pay attention to such minutiae? Qing Yu commanding him to make soup was already a tall order.

Miao held her forehead and carefully retrieved a small bottle of salt from her seed storage, pouring it into the pot in front of...