Chapter 7

In the kitchen, everything gleamed; counters wiped spotless, floor swept, fresh water steaming in the back pot, while the stove in front sat neatly empty.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, so I didn’t dare cook without permission. My skills… aren’t the best.” Cen Qianshan quickly added, “But I learn fast. Give me a day or two, and I’ll pick it up.”
He said it with so much assurance, it was impossible to doubt him, let him poke around the kitchen a few times, and he’d absolutely figure it out.
“No need! I’ll handle it.” Mu Xue rolled up her sleeves. “I’m not picky, I could go days on a single meal if I had to.”
Food didn’t matter much to her these days, but this kid was a proper mortal; he needed real meals, three times a day. Mu Xue made a mental note not to forget it.
She’d invited him in, after all. Until his leg healed, she could tough it out a little.
With her mind split between tasks, Mu Xue manipulated objects across the kitchen with a flick of her will. Magical rice rinsed in her hands, knives on the cutting board chopped meat in perfect rhythm, oil sizzled in the pan, and the spatula flipped a golden fried egg, all moving to her cues as the aromas filled the air.
To finish, she simmered spring onions in oil, and in no time produced a pot of meatball-and-spirit-rice porridge so luscious and hearty it practically glowed.
With a flick of technique, she made the steaming pot float after her, matching her stride. Carrying two bowls and chopsticks, she called to Cen Qianshan, “Come on, time to eat!”
The “dining table,” such as it was, sat right in the main room. Mu Xue ladled out a generous bowl for Cen Qianshan.
Just as she was about to plop in a big meatball, she heard a hesitant voice from across the table: “Um… I don’t eat meat.”
Mu Xue just nodded, lots of people preferred vegetarian food or had their quirks; nothing strange about it. She fished out a yolk-bright fried egg instead for him,
But then he added, “I don’t need egg, either.”
“And not too much porridge… I don’t eat much.”
Mu Xue finally looked up and realized, it wasn’t about taste. It was that he felt like he shouldn’t, or that if he ate too much, she’d mind. Not that he disliked eggs or porridge, just that he was afraid to ask for more.
The boy, drowning in baggy, patched-up clothes, looked so small sitting there, and then his stomach betrayed him with a loud, desperate growl.
Cen Qianshan pressed his lips together, cheeks burning, eyes darting away.
Mu Xue, stone-faced, promptly heaped his bowl with meatballs and set two fried eggs on top. She slid it over with a satisfying clatter and said,
“Sit down and eat. I’m not filthy rich but I’m hardly broke, either. Eat as much as you want, there’s plenty.”
She filled bowls for them both, grabbed a copy of “Essentials of Smelting Techniques,” and absentmindedly read as she ate.
So absorbed was she in her reading that she completely missed the moment he quietly sat down and, with his head low, finished his meal to the last grain.
It was only after a long while, when someone softly called her name, that Mu Xue finally surfaced from her bookish trance.
Her own bowl was still half-full and lukewarm, but Xiao Shan’s was long empty, his chopsticks placed neatly beside it.
“Mistress, if you’re not hungry, may I clear the table?” he asked, voice cautious and polite.
Mu Xue, still half-stuck in her book-world, murmured a dazed assent.
A moment later, she heard the clink of dishes being cleared, and soon enough he brought over a cup of hot tea, setting it within easy reach and quietly reminding her it was there.
Mu Xue took a sip.
The mug held a spirit-brew of snow chrysanthemums, tiny yellow flowers blooming in the dark tea, a single red date bobbing amidst them, maybe a crystal or two of rock sugar. The balance of sweetness was perfect: exactly how Mu Xue liked her tea.
Mu Xue looked up, puzzled, and found Cen Qianshan watching her with curious eyes.
“Wait a second, how did you know I like this kind of tea?”
Cen Qianshan hesitated a moment before confessing honestly, “Most of the tea canisters in the kitchen are dusty, except for the snow chrysanthemum one. This morning, you added sugar and onion oil to the braised meatballs, so I figured you probably like things on the fragrant and sweeter side. I took a gamble and tried making it for you... I hope it's all right?”
“It’s light, fragrant, just the right touch of sweetness, cuts right through the grease. You did really well.” Mu Xue praised the kid.
How did she ever think clever children were a nuisance?
This little guy tried so hard to figure out what she liked, carefully tending to every detail of her day. Honestly, it felt pretty nice to be looked after so thoughtfully.
By afternoon, Mu Xue had been busy at her workbench for ages before she suddenly spun around, scanning the room for a good while, then called out to Cen Qianshan, who was meditating inside the array,
“Hey, have you seen…” She gestured in the air, “a small jar with blue scale powder inside?”
Instantly, the tap-tap of a cane echoed. Cen Qianshan hobbled to the corner of the floor and dug out the little jar to show Mu Xue.
“Yes, yes, that’s the one! Lifesaver.”
Cen Qianshan handed it over, then ventured, “If you don’t mind, would you let me organize all these refining materials around the house? Properly sorted?”
Mu Xue nodded readily, she had so many materials now, she could barely remember half of what she’d bought.
Not just on the shelves in this room, but in a dozen or so spatial pouches as well, at least ten thousand different items altogether. She’d tried classifying them before, but things were always hard to find.
Having someone willing to tackle the mess? She couldn’t be more grateful.
By the time that day slipped away unnoticed and Mu Xue finally put down her work, the whole room had been transformed.
There wasn’t a stray scrap left on the floor. The towering shelves that lined the walls were neatly arranged, every material grouped and clearly labeled.
By each shelf ladder was a sign marking out the major category, subcategories, and an index sheet for easy reference.
Dark shadows circled under Xiao Shan’s eyes, and he pointed apologetically at two of the alcoves. “These are materials I don’t recognize yet, I left them here for now, I’ll need your guidance. I haven’t had time to sort out the sea beasts and birds further. The mineral types too. But give me three to five more days, and I’ll be able to finish it all, I think.”
“It’s already…” Mu Xue was completely stunned, “way better than before. There’s no need to rush. Remember, you’re still a mortal, you have to sleep every day. Don’t try keeping up with my schedule. I’m a cultivator, so I barely need rest. But you? If you’re tired, just go sleep, okay?”
To reward his hard work, she sent her little puppet into service. The tiny thing zipped off at her command, and soon enough, came back lugging armfuls of packages.
The parcels contained new clothes, bedding, gauze, medicine, and all sorts of fresh produce and meat.
“Sorry, I’ve been such a flake. My bad! Got caught up in work and nearly forgot, took me a whole day to finally buy stuff for you.” Mu Xue handed Xiao Shan his new clothes, then nodded to his leg. “How’s it feeling? Want me to apply some medicine for you?”
Cen Qianshan subtly shielded his right leg with his cane, taking the clothes from her. “Thank you, Mistress. It’s much better already, I can handle it myself.”
Since he could walk just fine and there was no more blood seeping from his leg, Mu Xue let it go for now.
She turned to the kitchen, whipping up several gleaming, hearty dishes, she was determined to fatten up this scrawny little assistant, and soon.
“Xiao Shan, do you know where I put the bonemeal from the Fuhao Fish?”
After the familiar tap-tap, a dark green glass tube was soon placed by Mu Xue’s workspace.
“Xiao Shan, where’s my eight-headed ghost-mask oil bath pot?”
“Right here. I’ll go clean it for you.”
“Can you handle the thorns on the Linglong Blossom? Help me prep them?”
“If you show me once, I’m sure I can try.”
Within just a couple of days, this once-silent, joyless house felt completely different with a tiny housemate bustling around.
That kid, hobbling with his cane but always busy and eager, Mu Xue was already starting to feel she’d be at a total loss if he ever left.
Soon he even began to bring up a few modest wishes of his own.
“I’ve only read the ‘Bestiary Compendium’, so I can’t identify half your materials. I know it’s extra work for you, sorry about that.”
“Ah, I’ve got ‘Comprehensive Study of Beasts’, ‘The Demon Codex’, and ‘A Thorough Explanation of Stones and Minerals’ on the shelf. If you’re interested, help yourself.”
“And the rest of those books…?”
“Go ahead, read anything you want.”
“Thank you, Mistress. I appreciate it.”
So, he really did want to learn.
No surprise. The kid was brilliant in every way, you only had to show or explain something once and he’d pick it up perfectly, never missing a step.
If she took him as a disciple, showed him the cultivation path… he’d really go far. And a real help to her too, honestly.
Mu Xue told herself she’d keep an eye on him for a while before deciding.
But before she’d even started her observations, an unexpected incident broke the routine.
It happened on Xiao Shan’s fourth day at her home.
Something felt off that evening. The house was too quiet.
Mu Xue snapped out of her work to realize, the usual tap-tap of Xiao Shan’s cane had been missing for a long while. Her teacup, too, was strangely empty beside her.
She turned, finding the door wide open. Outside, a heavy silence lay over everything; snow fluttered down through the pitch-black night.
“Xiao Shan?” Mu Xue called out, puzzled.