The Princess to Eight Uncles Chapter 1076

Chapter 1076 Jean Making Soup

In the thirteenth station of hell, the Cliff of Reincarnation, there stood a thatched house beside a bridge. At first glance, the house appeared small, but upon closer inspection, it revealed one or two floors, with a modest yard and attic windows.

Feeling bored, Jean gathered a jumble of random items and carelessly threw them into the pot in front of her. She then picked up a large spoon and stirred the mixture a few times until it began to bubble. Satisfied, she stopped stirring.

Jean grabbed a bowl, filled it halfway, and downed the contents in a single gulp. Ghosts could not feel the heat, so the bubbling soup did not bother her.

Smacking her lips, Jean commented, “Madame Maya, this is definitely water mixed with some raw ingredients. I wonder how much the middleman messed it up.”

Madame Maya, who had entered the house, felt a pang in her heart when she saw Jean.

“Quickly bring the soup out… she pleaded, clutching her chest. Speaking to Jean caused her physical pain.

Jean responded nonchalantly, “Oh, here they are!”

Having spent so much time here, Jean had unknowingly developed a skill. She effortlessly grabbed the pot’s handle, raised her hand, and moved a large pot of soup outside.

Madame Maya took the bowl and glanced at the countless ghosts lined up in front of her, their queue winding into the distance.

“A bowl of soup will make you forget the memories of your past life,” Madame Maya offered the bowl to the ghost before her eyes.

The ghost struggled, resisting. “I don’t want to! I don’t want to forget! I can’t forget him, and I will be with him in my next life!”

Madame Maya gently replied, “But he already has someone else.”

The ghost grew angrier. “No! He must be suffering! Even though he has someone else, I still love him, L…

Before she could finish speaking, Jean grabbed a bowl of soup, pinched her nose, and drank it down while muttering. “Go harvest vegetables!”

Madame Maya remained speechless.

In business, one should focus on what the customer likes, not force them into something they did not

want.

Madame Maya shed a tear as she was accustomed to, ready to let the ghost go.

Unexpectedly, the ghost suddenly clutched her chest, a bewildered expression on her face. She cried out, “Ah… Harris, where are you? Why can’t I see anything!

Then she fiercely grabbed Madame Maya’s hand, her expression filled with determination. “Harris, don’t be sad! Seeing you sad like this makes me even more heartbroken!”

Madame Maya was shocked.

Jean’s hand holding the spoon trembled, causing the soup in the spoon to spill out more than the meat shaken off by the cafeteria lady.

The kind-hearted Madame Maya, who had cultivated her compassion for hundreds of years, furrowed her brow and roared, “Jean Crawford! What did you add to my soup!”

The ghosts were taken aback!

Jean coughed and replied, “Oh, nothing. I just happened to see eye drops on the shelf, so I added a little…”

Madame Maya trembled with anger. “Those are for my presbyopia!”

Jean exclaimed, “Oh! So they’re really eye drops!”

But wait, isn’t Madame Maya’s soup made from the hundreds of tears in the world, condensed into eight.

tears…

“You were the one who told me you can add any tear to the soup,” Jean innocently stated.

Madame Maya collapsed backward.

Fortunately, although Kate was lost in her madness and had blind eyes, she had forgotten about her past. and smoothly crossed Spirit Bridge.

She then jumped off the Cliff of Reincarnation.

Jean touched her nose. “Well… look, isn’t this pretty good?”

Madame Maya’s hand was trembling.

Jean, being considerate, said, “Alright, Madame Maya, you’ve worked hard. Take a seat, and I’ll take over.”

The soup has been brewed, so let’s not waste it. Regardless of the circumstances, the results will be the

same.

Madame Maya’s lips trembled as she tried to say something, but Jean smiled and waved skillfully, saying, “Next, please.”

A burly man approached with red eyes, declaring, “He killed me, he killed me over fifty cents! I won’t drink it! I want to remember that scoundrel’s face and hack him to death in my next life!”

Jean nodded and replied, “Oh? There’s a story involved? Come, sit down, have a drink, and share the story with me.”

She smiled, poured herself a bowl of soup, and took a sip.

The burly man sat down instinctively, picked up the bowl of Madame Maya’s soup, drained it in one go, slammed the empty bowl onto the table, and angrily demanded, “Fifty cents! This bowl of soup is worth. fifty cents! Why? Do you look down on me? Give me a soup worth five dollars!”

He rummaged through his pockets, found a 100 million underworld bank note and forcefully placed it in Jean’s hand.

As he left, he looked up to the sky and laughed loudly. “Hahaha! Five… huh?”

Confusion crossed his face as Jean swiftly kicked him onto the Spirit Bridge, witnessing his passage in a

daze.

Meanwhile, Madame Maya, resting on her side, was filled with heartache.

Jean’s stall attracted a long queue of ghosts, each with their own cries. After consuming the soup, their mental states became strange. Jean even began to feel like she was sitting in a mental hospital.

Soon, the pot of soup was empty. Jean smiled and took the pot away, preparing to replace it with a fresh

one.

But then, she heard a familiar voice say, “Granny Maya, I’m not here to drink the soup. I want to find my mother.”

Jean’s expression changed abruptly as she turned around.