Chapter 8

“By the way.”
Xiao Yu stared at her for a moment, then suddenly slapped his head and stood up. “I completely forgot—let’s have some tea. Otherwise, eating like this is just too dry.”

Su Zhen hadn’t even had time to refuse before he swiftly took out a complete tea set.

Su Zhen: “?”

She still held the small fork in one hand, a mouthful of cake stuffed in her mouth.

“Snow Luo from Hansui Mountain, water from Langquan Spring.”

Xiao Yu lifted the teapot, tapping the purple clay exterior with his fingertips. The water inside instantly boiled, producing a rolling, bubbling sound. “Next time, I’ll prepare something more interesting to drink. Mainly because I’m not sure if you like…”

“Please, don’t trouble yourself, Senior!”

Su Zhen could no longer sit still. Swallowing the bite of cake, she said, “I’ll do it myself!”

But try as she might with all her strength, she couldn’t snatch the teapot from his hands, not even once touching it.

After all, it wouldn’t be right to use spiritual power to grab it, so she stood aside, watching helplessly.

Xiao Yu leisurely lifted the teapot, his wrist gently pressing as the water spiraled like a cascading snowy ribbon, falling into the cup with a soft clink.

The tea leaves were the color of tender bamboo shoots, a pale, even green, swirling like fish in the boiling water.

Gradually, the water turned tinged with green, and a light fragrance rose.

The stream’s thickness and height changed rhythmically and orderly, the white lines of pouring water rising and falling thrice, ending with a clean, decisive cut-off.

This was the perfect “Phoenix Nods Thrice” technique—a pouring skill so refined that even the most fastidious elders of their clan couldn’t find fault.

Su Zhen: “Senior, you truly overwhelm me with your kindness.”

“Don’t say that.”

Xiao Yu sat back down. “This is what you deserve.”

Su Zhen: “…”

Snow Luo was one of the few spiritual plants suitable for making tea, naturally quite valuable. But she still had several boxes herself, so she didn’t mind this little amount of tea leaves.

Even repaying tenfold wouldn’t be a problem.

Yet, the real point wasn’t about the tea at all.

Whatever.

Su Zhen savored the tea slowly and finished the entire box of pastries before finally inquiring about their origin.

“Which master made these? Where is their shop now? If you could sell me the recipe, I could swear an oath never to disclose it.”

“No need for an oath.”

Xiao Yu said shyly, “I don’t think I’m quite a master yet, but I have no problem writing down the recipe for you. Just wait a moment.”

He immediately produced paper, brush, ink, and inkstone out of thin air.

Su Zhen looked at him in disbelief. “Did you make these yourself? Or is this your own recipe?”

Xiao Yu nodded. “I did make them, no doubt. But the recipe also draws inspiration from other sources. I wouldn’t dare claim it’s entirely my original creation. Some tools are hard to find here, so it took some extra time.”

He sat at the stone table, gently rolling up his intricately embroidered black sleeves, revealing a sharply defined, snow-white wrist. His broad palm showed clear tendons, full of strength.

Xiao Yu pinched a long fine brush. “Let me make it clear: if you just want to eat, I can make these anytime.”

As he spoke, he began to write.

“I’ll also optimize the process later to make it faster…”

His brush moved fluidly, never stopping, clearly well-versed in the content.

Su Zhen was momentarily speechless.

Being skilled in pastries wasn’t uncommon. Many masters, before cultivating, were ordinary folk—artisans, cooks, merchants, farmers, all with trades to support their families.

But not even those who had become Immortal Lords after reaching the Upper Seventh Realm usually touched mundane kitchen work.

Just like herself.

Her few attempts at cooking were solely to honor her mother, who smiled with special satisfaction whenever she tasted her handmade dishes and pastries.

After her mother failed to ascend and passed away, Su Zhen returned to the Eastern Domain to join the Tianyuan Sect. Years later, when she came back home, the grief had somewhat faded. She wanted to show her uncle and aunt her skills but was unanimously discouraged. They said that since she was already a disciple of an Immortal Lord, she should stay away from the kitchen to maintain her dignity.

That dampened her enthusiasm, and for hundreds of years afterward, she never entertained the thought again.

Now, recalling their disapproval and glancing at the Immortal Lord across the table earnestly writing the recipe, her feelings were complicated.

If she told them this story, they probably wouldn’t believe it.

“…”

Xiao Yu finished writing and looked up to find her lost in thought. He didn’t interrupt but rested his face on his hand quietly, waiting.

After a while, Su Zhen came back to her senses. “Senior, are you done?”

“Mm.”

Xiao Yu furrowed his brow slightly, looking somewhat regretful. “Sorry, did I bring up something upsetting?”

Su Zhen shook her head. “Not exactly upsetting… It’s just… do you really enjoy making pastries so much?”

Xiao Yu considered. “I’d say it’s one of my hobbies?”

“So…”

Su Zhen hesitated, then asked, “Do you often give your pastries to others?”

“No, this is the first time.”

Xiao Yu answered straightforwardly. “A long time ago, I did share with classmates—fellow disciples, actually, inviting them to my place—but not often.”

Su Zhen seemed to understand. “Because you’re socially anxious?”

Xiao Yu gave her a thumbs-up. “Exactly.”

Su Zhen copied him, raising her thumb. “Is that approval?”

“Yes.”

He gently shook the thin sheet of paper in his hand. The ink, still moist, dried quickly, the lines bold and elegant, the strokes confident and spirited.

Su Zhen had originally glanced only once but couldn’t help looking again.

Xiao Yu handed her the paper filled with the recipe. “Here, take a look.”

Su Zhen cleared her throat and took it with both hands. At a glance, she admired the beautiful handwriting again.

She then carefully read through it and found that many ingredients were somewhat rare.

Some plants could only be found in the Demon Realm.

No wonder no one had managed to make this before. Few could even venture there, let alone have the mood to experiment with food ingredients.

“…Thank you, Senior.”

Su Zhen spoke earnestly. “It must have taken great effort to come up with this recipe.”

Xiao Yu seemed to chuckle. “Actually, it’s not that hard. As long as you enjoy eating it, that’s enough.”

Su Zhen looked up.

The dense shadows of the trees above cast mottled patterns, drifting across the young man’s handsome features.

He lowered his gaze slightly, his long eyelashes fluttering, golden sunlight filtering through the leaves, shining into his bluish eyes, reflecting myriad shifting emotions in an instant.

His flawless face bathed in radiant light seemed somewhat unreal.

“…By the way.”

Su Zhen stood. “I have a mountain patrol shift soon.”

Xiao Yu instinctively said, “Then can I accompany you…”

Su Zhen: “?”

He quickly swallowed the rest of the sentence. “I’ll be going then.”

With that, he vanished.

Su Zhen watched the spot where he disappeared, unable to help but imagine.

If anyone saw Immortal Lord Zhaohua patrolling the mountain with her, they might think some demon god had hidden in Weiyun Peak.

But no matter what, Su Zhen decided to keep a low profile since she still had to stay in the sect for some time.

Better to finish what she needed to do first, so as not to attract attention.

She went to the mountainside.

Weiyun Peak was magnificent and elegant, towering over a thousand zhang. On all four sides—east, west, south, and north—several broad stepped mountain paths had been built. Residences of cultivators were scattered everywhere—from the foot to near the summit—forming clusters of buildings and independent courtyards nestled by groves and streams.

The terrain midway up the mountain was the flattest, with many open spaces, so large complexes of pavilions and towers gathered here, forming a bustling marketplace.

Mist and clouds blurred the view, but the red tile roofs, banners, and colorful lights flickering in the air were faintly visible. Many people rode swords up and down.

In the center of the residences, long streets crossed, surrounded by towering pavilions and tall towers, with over ten martial arts arenas and lecture halls accommodating hundreds. Elders gave lessons every few days.

Cultivators with some realm advancement didn’t need to rest daily, so these places were lively day and night, with a constant flow of people.

Some handled peak affairs, some sold materials and pills, others forged and smelted, while groups of young disciples attended classes.

Along her way, Su Zhen received countless congratulations and well-wishes. Many had come from afar just to greet her.

She responded calmly, then went to a five-story tower at the heart of the street. At the entrance stood a stone slab inscribed with the words “Administrative Office.”

Many cultivators passed by; a long queue was visible inside. As Su Zhen ascended the steps, those around her bowed.

When she entered the hall, a sudden hush fell, followed by endless greetings and congratulations.

“Congratulations to Senior Uncle Su on your realm advancement…”

“When will Senior Sister Su hold another lecture on sword techniques? After last time’s class, I suddenly felt enlightened…”

“Greetings, Senior Uncle Su…”

Su Zhen nodded habitually, then squeezed through the crowd to a long desk piled high with scrolls. She asked the cultivator in charge of arranging and recording patrol duties.

“How many shifts have I missed?”

She tapped the desk.

The person behind the desk was nearly buried under paperwork but straightened upon hearing the noise.

“Oh, Senior Sister Su! Congratulations on your realm advancement. You’re no less than those from Lingxiao Peak. Thanks to you, Weiyun Peak shines with glory…”

The cultivator busily rummaged through the papers and pulled out a scroll, checking it. “You missed six shifts during your seclusion: five patrols and one gate duty.”

Su Zhen nodded. “Thank you, Sister Zhao. I’ll start repaying today. Please mark it down.”

It was common for cultivators of her level to be secluded for long periods, so missing shifts was not unusual.

“I’ll begin repaying today. Remember to mark that, Sister.”

“Alright! Today is the northern mountain… Sister knows the way, right?”

“You tell me—etched in my memory.”

“Indeed,” the cultivator shook her head. “Senior Sister advanced too quickly, so you’ve patrolled dozens of years more than others.”

They chatted briefly. Su Zhen then headed north, her patrol route stretching from the mountain base to the summit, covering the northern barrier and the courtyards visible from the peak.

Before nightfall, she greeted the previous patroller, handed over the shift, and began to extend her spiritual awareness.

Spiritual awareness was the cultivator’s mental consciousness, enhanced by spiritual power, able to extend from the body. Wherever it reached, the cultivator’s senses extended as well.

Cultivators at the Upper Seventh Realm could easily perceive events thousands of miles away.

With Su Zhen’s cultivation, extending her spiritual awareness across Weiyun Peak was no difficulty—but cultivators avoided doing so. Extending one’s spiritual awareness was like sticking one’s head out.

If caught within another’s spiritual awareness, unless covered by spells, all actions would be known, with no privacy.

Thus, sect rules forbade fully extending spiritual awareness during patrols.

They had to control its range and refrain from invading others’ residences unless sensing spiritual fluctuations akin to demonic possession.

If someone truly faced mortal danger, it was the elders’ responsibility; patrol disciples handled simpler matters.

“…Senior, I think I’m lost.”

On a secluded mountain path stood a young disciple, face full of frustration.

He was sweating profusely, gasping for breath. “Master told me to run from the residence to the summit and back. The main road was crowded, so I took a few detours. After dark…”

“I understand.”

Su Zhen fully understood, having faced this more than once. This usually happened to newcomers. “Where do you live? I’ll escort you back. Next time, don’t take side paths.”

The young disciple thanked her repeatedly.

After escorting him back, she resumed her original route uphill. Along the way, she passed some young disciples practicing swordplay in the woods.

Many cultivated at night, especially those who could go several days without sleep.

Seeing they needed no help, Su Zhen turned and continued upward.

After a while, she encountered two cultivators walking arm in arm. Seeing her, they bowed and greeted her as “Senior Uncle.”

Su Zhen nodded.

Passing by, the two whispered to each other.

One laughed, “If it weren’t for Senior Sister’s Grade One Qingxin Grass, I wouldn’t have advanced the foundation so fast…”

The other patted his junior disciple’s head. “You’re quite talented. That herb doesn’t work for everyone.”

“Anyway, thanks to Senior Sister, I’ve prepared a thank-you gift.”

“No need, you know, my family’s shop is never short of spiritual herbs…”

“No, no, it’s like they say—returning a favor with a peach…”

The two gradually walked away.

Su Zhen wasn’t interested in eavesdropping but since they spoke openly in the quiet surroundings, she heard everything clearly.

Remembering their words, she suddenly realized she’d forgotten something.

A return gift.

Not to mention a handmade box of pastries, including the unfamiliar “cake.”

Even if Xiao Yu had bought her a box of pastries, by right she should give something back.

Though he had obtained the Jade Essence Grass, she didn’t understand why he wanted it, but in any case—

She was originally going to discard it.

Yet it was carefully made pastries.

In terms of value, the Jade Essence Grass might be worth more, but if those pastries were made by Immortal Lord Zhaohua, few would believe it; if they did, the price could be worth millions of times more.

Su Zhen wasn’t keen on social exchanges but did what was necessary, except with those she was not close to.

Now, thinking carefully, it felt unequal.

She took out a small white paper bird folded from paper. Gently tugging its wings spread to both sides, then pulling its tail that curved high behind.

Walking uphill, she looked at the bird in her palm. “Senior, can you hear me?”

The paper bird twitched, fluttered its wings, and nodded in the air.

Su Zhen: “…What do you like to eat?”

The little bird suddenly froze midair.

Then, as if drained of strength, it fell back into her hand.

“Do you mean what I think you mean?”

A deep, melodious voice suddenly came from behind.

Su Zhen turned.

A handsome man in black stood on the stone steps, looking up at her.

In the dim night, his eyes shone brightly, filled with anticipation and a hint of disbelief. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

Su Zhen turned and continued upward. “Since you like researching food, you must have preferences. If you don’t want to tell me…”

“Sweet.”

Xiao Yu immediately said, following her steps.

“Ice, cough, well, sweet and cold. I also like spicy and salty. Basically, anything flavorful. I’m not picky. Any restaurant is fine.”

Su Zhen was momentarily puzzled, then realized, “You think I’m inviting you out to eat? If you want, that’s fine—Mingding Tower’s dishes or Yujang Pavilion’s wine…”

These were the most expensive establishments in Tiandu Immortal City. Ordinary cultivators would have to save a hundred years’ worth of spirit stones just to buy a single dish or a cup of wine.

“Wait.”

Xiao Yu suddenly seemed to snap back. “Weren’t you originally inviting me to eat?”

Su Zhen looked skyward. “Senior, you… you don’t lack money. Whatever I can give, you already have. And if I wanted to go to places like Mingding Tower, I’d have to pull strings and call in favors to get a reservation. But if you go yourself, even the two Immortal Lords there would come out to greet you. Just say where you want to eat, no matter who made the reservation, they’d all be kicked out.”

Xiao Yu shook his head. “You’re overthinking. Those two are annoyed with me; I really got kicked out.”

Su Zhen was too lazy to argue. “You know what I mean.”

Xiao Yu was noncommittal. “So—”

Su Zhen hesitated. “Maybe I could make something for you myself?”

Xiao Yu was struck like lightning.

He stopped in his tracks, stiffened for a moment, then pressed his hand to his ear. “Am I hearing things?”

Su Zhen looked at him expressionlessly. “Fine, Senior, you misheard.”

“If you really meant it,”

Xiao Yu said outright, “Then you don’t need to ask what I like. Whatever you make, even if it’s baijiu cooked with antibiotics or poison stewed with arsenic, I’d still eat it all.”

Su Zhen: “…”