The arena is dead silent at this moment.

Everyone holds their breath, staring fixedly at the two facing each other on stage. When every card has been played, who will be the one to laugh last?

"Can you still move, Miss Huaizhi?"

Guo ShouQue is the first to question, scrutinizing Huai Shi’s pale face. "Can you still stand up? Do you still have the guaranteed victory you once had?"

"Of course—"

Huai Shi responds with words from the past, "Is there anyone who would be fooled by your empty bravado?"

"Even if it is empty bravado, isn’t it mutual?"

Guo ShouQue shakes his head knowingly, "A culinary duel is quite ruthless, Miss Huaizhi. Even if you know my weakness and forced me into the weakest desperation, do you still have the energy to make a dish? Do you have the power left to defeat me?"

Just as he said.

Huai Shi has reached her limit.

After creating two dishes surpassing expectations consecutively, and being suppressed and eroded by two Tai Lao consecutively, her Soloist divine nature has swelled to the brink of danger.

If she does not take the opportunity to rest and wait for this baseless Miracle to gradually dissipate, Huai Shi’s self is likely to be dissolved by the divine nature represented by Huaizhi, completely disappearing from this world.

That’s the cruelty of a culinary duel.

When you see the hope representing the end, you might have already exhausted your strength during the long run, unable to cross the final cruel distance.

Falling noiselessly into the darkness.

But the premise of this assumption is that Huai Shi has truly exhausted her power, unable to rise again, collapsing before the finish line.

She has waited this long, used every scheme and effort; isn’t it precisely for this moment closest to victory?

How could it end here?

At that moment, Miss Huaizhi raised her eyes, and her smile became sarcastic and delightful.

"It doesn’t matter."

She said, "There’s no need for me to take action anymore."

Because the final dish was placed on the stovetop right when the competition began!

Now, behind Huai Shi, atop the cooking station, the pot in which water had been added since the beginning and left to simmer over the flame emitted a low boiling sound.

Blazing mist rose slowly from beneath the lid, diffusing into the air, yet there was no anticipated aroma.

Plain and moist, filling the nose.

Invigorating the spirit, piquing curiosity.

The final dish is completed.

This was Huai Shi’s meticulously planned setup from the start, hidden in Guo ShouQue’s blind spot of view, finally offering the ultimate strike to the enemy.

All it took to break the camel’s back was the last straw.

Everything before was solely for this moment.

This time, when Huai Shi braced herself and lifted the pot’s lid, no glaring light burst forth. Only the humid heat fluttered, bringing waves of implicit warmth.

No flavor whatsoever, nor any anomaly.

Just... a pot of plain boiling water!

Everyone instinctively stood up, observing closely, but no matter how they looked, they could only derive one conclusion—no ingredients, no processing, no change whatsoever.

This is a pot of plain water!

Now, the water in the pot had boiled down and was only enough to serve a large bowl.

When poured into the bowl before Guo ShouQue, the face covered with cracks reflected an indescribable bewilderment and stupor; immediately, an unprecedented absurdity was felt.

"What is this?"

Guo ShouQue’s shoulders shook as he laughed, exposing broken teeth: "Is this so-called ultimate strike, just a pot of plain water? No, you could say... it’s the old man’s favorite boiled cabbage?"

"Sorry, there isn’t any cabbage among the ingredients."

Huai Shi reached into the pot and picked up the soup sachet still emanating scalding heat. Weighing it in her hand, she tossed it onto the table, producing a crisp yet heavy sound.

Like objects colliding.

Thread came undone from the sachet, revealing the hidden material that rolled out, bearing either beautiful or rustic textures, unfolding its form on the smooth table.

Stone.

"Do you see?" Huai Shi smiled, "At its core, just a few stones, don’t mind it."

This was Huaizhisu’s winning recipe.

Stone and boiling water, a pot of soup made from stones.

In the long silence, Guo ShouQue said nothing, not even displaying any discomfort or anger, but merely reached out and lifted the bowl of water boiled with stones.

Inhaling the warmth deeply, an unsettling premonition within intensified.

"This is probably... more than just stones, right?"

He stared into the bowl of hot water, the black pupils slightly constricting, an expression becoming meaningful.

"Drinking warm water is beneficial to the body, isn’t it?"

Huai Shi sat upright across from him, gazing into his eyes, solemnly telling him, "Guo ShouQue, this is my final creation for you.

Now, it’s your turn—"

Guo ShouQue lowered his eyes and no longer hesitated.

He lifted the bowl and gulped down the hot water inside, undeterred by the scalding temperature.

Yet astonishingly, the water that had just been boiling did not feel hot upon entering, nor did it feel cold; rather, it carried a soothing warmth, with the gentle heat spreading from the mouth to the nasal cavity, instantly easing the breath.