The colour drained from his face, and then rushed back with torrential force.
His green eyes widened in absolute shock.
He choked, a highly undignified, ragged cough tearing from his throat.
The heat was unfathomable.
It wasn't just spicy; it felt as though someone was actively dragging a serrated blade made of fire across his tongue.
Shiru frantically reached for his cup of water, completely abandoning his elegant facade, downing the liquid in a single gulp.
He was panting, his chest heaving, his pristine spectacles fogging up from the sheer heat radiating from his own body.
"It is... adequately seasoned," Shiru rasped, his voice sounding like gravel, completely unable to hide the fact that he was currently fighting for his life against a lotus root.
Wangchen, watching his rival suffer, felt a surge of smug, icy superiority.
The Ice Demon picked up a large cut of meat, submerged it into the bubbling inferno, and brought it to his lips.
