Chapter 7: Salty, Bitter, and Impossible to Swallow

Zhou Jiangnan soon returned from the main peak with a bag of rice and two chickens and ducks. Huo Xun came back with him.

Huo Xun had run into Zhou Jiangnan while checking the list of disciples headed to the Tianfu Tournament. When he heard that Shen Yueshan planned to cook, he worried and decided to come along.

The first time he met Elder Shen, the man had looked like a sickly immortal who needed help walking. Later, he had lived alone and managed to burn the medicine he was brewing.

Could someone so untouched by the ordinary world really know how to cook?

Huo Xun had meant to help, but Shen Yueshan was too eager to try his hand at it. In the end, Huo Xun could only sit by the stove in the kitchen and tend the fire, keeping an eye on things.

He added kindling to the firebox and watched the flames. Shen Yueshan was holding a ladle and carefully pouring water into the pot. The plump, white spirit rice soaked at the bottom, gleaming like jade. His movements were easy and practiced, which put Huo Xun a little more at ease.

Elder Shen looked so calm. He must know how to cook.

Thinking of why Shen Yueshan was cooking, Huo Xun glanced toward Rong Huang, who sat on a little stool at one side of the kitchen.

The boy wore a coat altered from Elder Shen’s fox-fur robe. The hem and sleeves had been trimmed, though the sleeves were still wide enough to brush the floor. The fur collar wrapped snugly around his neck, secured by two ties. It fit well enough to keep the cold out.

Only…

Huo Xun frowned as he looked at Rong Huang’s sleeves.

He remembered visiting once more than half a month ago. The child had been around three feet seven inches tall, and his inner robe had narrow sleeves that covered his palms. Now Huo Xun could see his wrists…

As he was thinking about this, Rong Huang suddenly met his eyes.

The child was only about four years old, but his expression was solemn, and there wasn’t a hint of a smile in his dark eyes. Huo Xun could feel a fierce, baleful aura bearing down on him. For an instant, it was as if someone had a hand around his throat.

The moment of eye contact passed. Rong Huang had already looked away, but Huo Xun was still sweating down his back, unable to collect himself.

Shen Yueshan was deboning a spirit chicken when the sudden crash of a stool tipping over rang through the kitchen.

He looked up. Huo Xun had already stood, his face a mix of fear and alarm as he pointed at Rong Huang. “Elder Shen, there’s something wrong with him!”

“Hmm?”

Shen Yueshan looked back. Rong Huang sat on the stool and gave him a smile, his long eyes blinking with an air of innocence. Shen Yueshan asked, puzzled, “What’s wrong?”

“He—he…” Huo Xun recovered enough to swallow hard and speak quickly. “A normal child couldn’t grow almost three inches in half a month! That’s not right. There has to be something wrong.”

He’d grown nearly three inches?

Shen Yueshan looked Rong Huang over, thoughtful. “He does seem a little taller.”

At once, Rong Huang’s gaze darkened. His expression remained unchanged, but the hand tucked inside his sleeve had clenched tight.

He still hadn’t regained his original body. Even if Shen Yueshan was frail, a fight right now wouldn’t go well for him. He had to find a way to escape.

But to everyone’s surprise, after Shen Yueshan said that, he turned back to the chicken and continued deboning it. “It’s a good thing for a child to grow. I’ll take him to have some winter clothes made in a few days. There’s no need to make a fuss.”

His voice was calm and cool, as if he were discussing the most ordinary thing in the world.

The knife tapped against the cutting board, followed by the crack of a chicken bone breaking free. Rong Huang let out a breath. The Ghost Qi gathering at his fingertips dissipated.

This wasn’t the right time. Unless he had no other choice, he would have to keep pretending.

Shen Yueshan genuinely didn’t think it was a big deal.

Rong Huang was young, barely four by the measure of his bones. He had been small to begin with, and after nearly half a month of rare, intensely nourishing spirit medicine, it would have been a shame if he hadn’t grown.

“Those medicines were rare treasures Qu Xingyi had collected from all over. Rong Huang has had so much of them these past few days that it’s only natural he’s grown.”

After hearing Shen Yueshan’s explanation, Huo Xun hesitated. “Is that so… I understand, then.”

He glanced at Rong Huang again. The child had dropped his smile the moment Shen Yueshan turned his back and was sitting there expressionless. This time, he couldn’t even be bothered to glance Huo Xun’s way.

Huo Xun fell silent.

The boy acted far too mature for his age.

There was something strange about him. Huo Xun would have to keep a closer eye on him.

Half an hour later, Shen Yueshan lifted the lid from the pot. A burnt smell immediately filled the kitchen. He glanced inside, then calmly put the lid back on.

“You’d better have a fasting pill first.” He wiped his hands on a cloth, took out a pill, and popped it into Rong Huang’s mouth. “Let’s not eat the food.”

Rong Huang said nothing.

He crunched the pill and smiled sweetly. “So my adoptive father can’t cook at all?”

There was a hint of mockery in the question. Shen Yueshan was reminded that the little wolf cub was all teeth—vicious, fierce, and quick to bite.

The bite marks on his thumb web and index finger, still not fully healed, were proof enough. Both had drawn blood.

Shen Yueshan glanced at Rong Huang. “Do you have a problem with your adoptive father?”

“Of course not, my dear adoptive father.”

Rong Huang sighed. “Why would I have a problem with you? I’m only sorry I won’t get to taste the food this time.”

At that, Shen Yueshan was certain the child was asking for trouble.

“That’s all right. You’ll get to taste it.”

Unhurriedly, Shen Yueshan arranged the two dishes in bowls and set them on the table. “They’re made with excellent ingredients. They just don’t look very nice. They won’t make you sick.”

He patted Rong Huang’s head kindly. “Since you’re so disappointed, you’ll have to finish every bite.”

Rong Huang’s smile stiffened. “Adoptive Father, I just had a fasting pill.”

“Rong Huang, don’t waste food.”

Shen Yueshan met his eyes. His gaze seemed to see straight through the boy, and his calm expression brooked no argument. He spoke quietly. “My good son, this is your first lesson: don’t provoke someone stronger than you.”

No matter how fierce and cunning the child might be, as long as he knew to behave and show respect in front of Shen Yueshan, he would make a good son.

Rong Huang stared at Shen Yueshan for a long moment, then ground out, “Yes, Adoptive Father.”

One day, I’ll make Shen Yueshan pay for that.

Zhou Jiangnan and Huo Xun were still there.

Shen Yueshan offered sincerely, “Would either of you like to try some?”

On the table sat a plate piled with misshapen, charred rice cakes. Beside it was a pot of chicken soup, the broth an eerie shade of cabbage green.

Zhou Jiangnan looked horrified. He shook his head again and again, questioning his life choices. “No, thank you. I should go grind the herbs.”

Just then, the Summoning Bell at Huo Xun’s waist rang again.

He looked at the pot of chicken soup with complicated feelings and took his leave. “The Tianfu Tournament is keeping us busy. I have other matters to attend to. I’ll come back another time.”

Shen Yueshan waved him off and replied warmly, “All right. Go ahead.”

In a moment, only Shen Yueshan and Rong Huang remained in the kitchen.

The kitchen was rarely used. Even when someone lit a fire, it was only to boil medicine. The whole room smelled strongly of herbs. The shelves held neatly arranged medicinal ingredients and grinding tools, along with a few teacups—not cooking utensils.

Now that someone had finally cooked a proper meal, the kitchen’s rich herbal scent and abundant spiritual energy were mixed with the bitter smell of char and a faint, strange fishiness.

Shen Yueshan ladled out some soup and set it in front of Rong Huang.

Rong Huang frowned at the bowl of chicken soup, its broth a disturbing color and several pieces of chicken stained an even stranger shade. His expression darkened, and the air around him grew oppressive.

Shen Yueshan said softly, “It’s not bad. Try it.”

At a faint sound, Rong Huang glanced sharply to the side.

A bowl of chicken soup had appeared in front of Shen Yueshan, too. He held a piece of charred spirit rice in his hand. His skin was so pale it seemed bloodless, and blue veins showed beneath it. Against the rice, his hand looked brighter than ice broken from a snowy mountain.

Shen Yueshan took a small bite of the rice cake and followed it with a spoonful of soup. His expression didn’t change. He was as calm as if he were eating an ordinary meal.

And seeing how elegant and serious Shen Yueshan looked as he ate, Rong Huang began to wonder if the food only looked terrifying and might not taste so bad after all.

He frowned and tentatively tried a sip of the soup.

When Rong Huang drank, Shen Yueshan asked gently, “How does it taste?”

Rong Huang said nothing.

He swallowed and replied without changing expression, “It’s passable.”

If Shen Yueshan could stomach something like this, why couldn’t he?

Shen Yueshan smiled faintly and broke off a piece of rice cake for him. “Try this, too.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Rong Huang took it. He lowered his head and bit into it without revealing what he was thinking. A strange, indescribable taste burst across his tongue.

“…”

Shen Yueshan raised his eyes and glanced at him. “Don’t spit it out.”

Rong Huang’s face darkened. He forced himself to swallow.

“Whatever you went through before, from today on, you’re my adopted son. I won’t let anyone else bully you.” Shen Yueshan’s voice was gentle. “If anything happens, tell me. I won’t turn you away.”

He paused, then continued coolly, “But remember this for the future: don’t go picking fights with people stronger than you, or you’ll bring trouble on yourself. You just made me unhappy, so this is your punishment. Remember the taste.”

This wolf cub is vicious and ill-tempered. Shen Yueshan doesn’t expect to tame him, and he doesn’t particularly care to. But one day, when Shen Yueshan can no longer hold on—when his soul shatters and his bones are buried in the mountains—the boy will be the one to suffer. He needs to learn some discipline.

Rong Huang said nothing. His gaze shifted from the rice cake in his hand to the chicken soup on the table, then settled on Shen Yueshan. At last, he lowered his head, hiding the dangerous malice in his eyes.

“Don’t drift off.” Shen Yueshan narrowed his eyes and tapped the side of the bowl with his spoon, making a clear Clink. His voice turned cold. “Do you understand?”

The slender fingers holding the spoon showed beneath his wide sleeve. A red cord hung from his wrist, its silver bell swaying softly. Bite marks that had yet to heal marred his knuckles and the web of his thumb.

Rong Huang’s breathing grew heavier as his gaze passed over those marks. His desire to break Shen Yueshan’s bones only grew stronger. A flash of malice crossed his eyes, but when he looked up, his face wore a false smile.

“I understand. Thank you for teaching me, Adoptive Father.”

Shen Yueshan gave a low “Mm” and said gently, “Eat.”

After that, neither of them said another word. The two of them quietly finished every last bite on the table.

The dishes tasted awful—so bad they were almost impossible to swallow. Just as Shen Yueshan had said, they were a punishment.

By the time Rong Huang finished the soup, his face had grown frighteningly grim, and the air around him was so oppressive it made the room feel colder. He had learned his lesson well:

He could never let Shen Yueshan into the kitchen again. Better yet, he should keep as far away from that pot as possible.

Who put spirit medicine in chicken soup and tea leaves in rice? It was salty, bitter, and impossible to swallow. How had Shen Yueshan even thought of that?