Chapter 40: Charcoal Black, Fiery Red, Ash Like Snow; Millet Yellow, Rice White, Steamed Rice Like Frost (Part One)

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After the noontime battle, evening approached.

"Strange things happen every year, and this year it's landed right on our Moon-Inviting Pavilion," Madam Zhang the procuress wiggled up to the fourth floor. "Yiyi, something extraordinary has happened. That young Master Gu actually caused such a commotion fighting with the Talent Master the other day."

"Did he win?"

"He lost!" Madam Zhang exclaimed dramatically.

"He lost?" Yiyi's expression changed at once and she sprang to her feet. "Is Young Master Gu all right?"

"What Young Master Gu—it's the Talent Master who lost! Just think, this nameless lad, even if he’s the younger brother of Lady Ye from the Jade Treasure Pavilion, is nothing more than a cook. Now he’s made the Immortal Cultivation Academy lose face—how are they supposed to handle this going forward?"

"He won?!" Xie Yiyi’s mouth fell open, and she muttered, "So he wasn’t lying to me. He actually won."

Madam Zhang warned, "Yiyi, listen to your mother. If he had lost today, all would be well; the Academy would have taught him a lesson and ignored him from then on. As long as he liked to stare at waists and spend his money, that would be fine. But if he won, that’s a different story. There are plenty of distinguished men in Luyang Hall—sooner or later, they’ll have to put him in his place."

Xie Yiyi insisted, "That won’t happen, Mother, don’t worry. The Talent Master fought him fair and square—a loss is a loss, a win is a win. Even if he can’t take defeat, he wouldn’t dare take revenge so blatantly, or else he’d become a laughingstock, and that’s the last thing the elders want."

Madam Zhang considered and found some sense in it, but she shook her silk handkerchief and said, "Even so, it’s not good. This man has made an enemy of the Immortal Cultivation Academy. How can he expect a good end?"

"I understand, Mother. Today’s victory is not a true victory. But I do know a little about that young man—he is someone remarkable."

"Remarkable? He’s nothing but trouble, dragging Lady Ye down with him!"

...

Gu Yi woke slowly, taking a moment to remember where he was. He turned his head and saw that the room was empty.

His stomach rumbled with hunger; not even a meal had been left for him.

But when he touched his side, he felt something odd—a pattern beneath his fingers. Gu Yi knew it was the Sanyuan Spirit-Healing Talisman.

With its help, he might recover within seven days.

But where was everyone?

Gu Yi threw off his quilt and headed out, just as a young girl entered carrying a wooden tray. She exclaimed in delight, "Oh? Young master, you’re up and walking?"

He did heal faster than most.

But this girl was unfamiliar to him. Still, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was stunning—her hair tied in two pink silk buns, soft bangs framing her cheeks, her eyes large and impossibly cute.

Ah, I’m doomed.

"Who are you? Did you…apply medicine to me?" Gu Yi asked, eyeing the bottles and jars in her hands.

"Yes~ I’m Chongchong. Sister Yue and Lady Ye are busy, so I’m here to change your bandages. But I didn’t expect you’d recover so quickly, young master…"

Her voice was soft, sweet as a young girl’s.

??

"Not recovered yet… It hurts," Gu Yi clutched his chest, dropping to the floor. "Suddenly, it really does hurt."

"Young master!"

Hearing the commotion outside, Ma Yuan hurried in with a bowl in hand. "Master! How are you?"

Gu Yi was already starving, and his eyes immediately locked onto the big steaming bowl Ma Yuan carried. The guy’s mouth was slick with oil, cheeks stuffed full.

"Just kidding. Help me up, would you?"

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Ma Yuan reached out, but was rebuffed. "Your hands are greasy! Don’t touch me!"

"I’ll help," Chongchong set down her tray.

"Master, you scared me half to death!" Ma Baldy’s face crumpled with tears, though his chewing never ceased.

He took a huge bite of fish, tears in his eyes.

Gu Yi wanted to speak, but smacked his lips, feeling it unnecessary. No matter how scared he was, it clearly hadn’t affected his appetite.

What an incorrigible disciple.

"So, Chongchong, I vaguely remember saying I was hungry before I passed out. Where’s my food?"

"I’m terribly sorry, young master… There isn’t any," Chongchong said, worried.

Gu Yi: ???

"None? And this bald guy’s eating so happily while I get nothing?"

He couldn’t help glancing at the shiny bald head. Chongchong explained, "There’s embroidered perch. As for those hotpots you mentioned… and beef rice, none of that."

"Perch is enough, I’ll just have that."

"All right, I’ll bring it to you—and call Lady Ye, she’s worried sick."

Ma Yuan, hearing Gu Yi was hungry, quickly shoveled food into his mouth, finishing it all before coming over to sit.

"Master, are you really all right? Your fight with Fan Ling was so intense!"

"How is he? Dead yet?"

"If he were, neither of us would be eating fish—we’d be fish food ourselves. He’s probably more seriously injured than you, since you broke his White-Cut Chicken."

Ma Yuan had never seen a true Immortal, so he didn’t know. But Gu Yi felt there was something oddly familiar about that chicken.

"What’s the name of the chicken he keeps?"

"It’s called Shehuang," Ma Yuan replied.

"What? Also Shehuang?" Gu Yi was genuinely surprised. "So Shehuang has grown up?"

"Seems Master’s seen it before. Actually, Shehuang wasn’t always like this. It used to be a huge, enormous eagle called Junjun."

"With wings, a real flyer. But it kept snatching chicks, annoyed the vice-director, who shot it against a wall and turned it into a chicken."

"Hung there all winter, wind and sun, shed all its feathers and regrew them yellow, never flew again."

"The vice-director said the eagle was shameless and unrepentant, so renamed it Shehuang as a lesson. But the Talent Master’s isn’t the real Shehuang—those are made from feathers."

"That impressive? So there are lots of them?" Gu Yi grew suddenly excited.

Ma Yuan thought for a moment, then exaggerated, "A ton of them!"

"Perfect! If there are plenty, let’s catch a whole bunch, kill and eat them—no one will notice, right?"

"That’s not allowed," came a voice at the door. Lady Ye entered with Chongchong. "Is my perch not to your liking, that you must covet that spirit chicken?"

"You don’t understand, Lady Ye. Eating chicken is a matter of faith."

But even as he spoke, he accepted the bowl of embroidered perch from her and made Ma Yuan stand aside—he didn’t want drool on the food.

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Besides that dish, there was a bowl of translucent green-leafed meat porridge, grains white as pearls, tender as tofu, steaming with fragrance and whetting the appetite.

"Brother, how do you feel?"

"It’s delicious."

"Not that—how does your body feel?"

"I can eat, drink, and I’m not sick," Gu Yi said as he picked up his chopsticks. "Why can’t we eat that spirit chicken?"

"Shehuang belongs to the Curator. Though the vice-director demoted it to a chicken, it was never really a chicken. If you ate it, the Curator might kill for that. You mustn’t even think of it."

But who could say for sure?

What if the Curator wanted to try it himself?

Couldn’t I just get a share then?

Or maybe the vice-director wanted to eat eagle, so he poisoned the bird one night, couldn’t resist roasting it, and then claimed the chicken was actually the eagle transformed.

Eh?

Brilliant.

Gu Yi bit his chopsticks, his eyes shining.

When he grew stronger, he’d trick people like this too—bring a duck and claim he’d turned Shehuang into a duck.

So he cheered himself on in his heart: Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—

Why shouldn’t I be allowed to eat a chicken?

Absurd—there’s nowhere in the world that makes sense.

"Brother, what kind of pot is this hotpot you mentioned? I searched the recipe books and couldn’t find it."

Hotpot?

Just thinking about it made Gu Yi want to cry. He was starving.

"If I tell you, Lady Ye, could you make it?"

"Of course," Lady Ye said, suddenly standing akimbo. "But brother, I also want to see what this hotpot is. I don’t even know if it’s sweet or savory. Since you’re still injured, if you can’t eat it now, we’ll wait until you’re well. And… as for letting Fan Ling take you to the Technique Hall, that too will have to wait until you recover."

Gu Yi thought only one thing: dependable.

After years in the mountains, his meals had been awful—he dreamed of hotpot!

With Lady Ye as the chef and him giving instructions, perhaps things could improve.

He was happy to do it.

"For the sake of hotpot, I’ll recover in no time!"

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