Seeing the smile on Song Qianji's lips, Ji Chen thought to himself, Brother Song isn't completely indifferent to Miss Chen after all.
Otherwise, why would anyone risk entering a dangerous place like Huawel Sect, filled with ill-intentioned sect leaders and elders?
Miss Chen had helped him twice. Even if Brother Song had a heart of stone and no interest in romantic affairs, he must have been somewhat moved.
Just then, Wei Ping said gently with a smile: "I'm just a steward in charge of buying groceries and cooking. I don't understand matters of the cultivation world and shouldn't speak out of turn. But when Senior Brother Meng brought back those outer sect disciples earlier, he said we've already torn up all pretense of cordiality with Huawel Sect. I think they must have made preparations for this engagement ceremony..."
He winked at Ji Chen, hinting for him to dissuade Song Qianji.
Misunderstanding the signal, Ji Chen suddenly felt a surge of heroic spirit. He slapped the table and stood up: "Even if they're prepared, we're not afraid! Since Brother Song has made up his mind, I'll accompany you through this adventure!"
"..."
Wei Ping looked at the excited Ji Chen, then at Lin Feiyuan who was lounging with his legs crossed while petting his cat.
Some people just can't be reasoned with.
And where has Meng Heze run off to this time?
Song Qianji asked Ji Chen: "You want to go? The Ji Family will also send representatives."
"I haven't done anything wrong by them, I'm not afraid to face them!"
Song Qianji nodded: "Then we'll go."
He then turned to Wei Ping: "You work hard all year round. Since it's the year-end, why not come along for some fun?"
Seeing the bright, seemingly expectant look in Song Qianji's eyes, Wei Ping almost agreed immediately.
He bit his tongue and changed his response: "Thank you for your kindness, sir. But I don't like traveling far from home. I'll stay in Thousand-Ditch Prefecture and wait for your return."
Song Qianji felt slightly disappointed: "Alright then."
Lin Feiyuan glanced sideways at Wei Ping with a strange smile.
Who was Wei Zhenyu that slept in different places every night?
Who was Wei Zhenyu that rode the tidal waves in the South Sea and watched sunrises from western mountain peaks?
Who was Wei Zhenyu that traveled thousands of miles overnight to kill someone?
His tone took several twists: "Oh my, so Steward Wei doesn't like traveling far from home."
"I prefer staying at home." Wei Ping turned away, casting him a cold glance from an angle others couldn't see.
With Song Qianji's dangerous mission being more important now, Wei Ping had no mind to bicker with Lin Feiyuan. He turned back with a slight smile:
"Since you've decided to travel, sir, I'll go make preparations."
"Prepare what?" Song Qianji asked.
"Of course, to bring enough talismans, magical artifacts, and spirit stones." Wei Ping thought to himself that he also needed to intensify the guard squad's training.
"No need to trouble yourself. There's no need to prepare dinner tonight either." Song Qianji said, "Just call Xiao Meng to come eat together."
Ji Chen was astonished: "Senior Brother is going to cook personally?!"
"I'll make noodles for you." Song Qianji asked, "How does that sound?"
Previously, Meng Heze had said his noodles were extremely delicious, and everyone else expressed wanting to try them, so he had remembered this.
"Of course that's wonderful!" Wei Ping said happily.
Ji Chen cheered.
...
Meng Heze had climbed every city wall and watchtower today, inspecting security measures and checking the deployments Wei Ping had made before the Harvest Festival.
He had to admit that Wei Ping was indeed meticulous and vigilant, having done his best. Even if he were in Wei Ping's position, he might not have been able to uncover the assassins in time.
The assassination attempt on Song Qianji seemed to be an accident.
It was just that the assassins were too powerful and worked as a team.
But had he wronged Wei Ping? Meng Heze pondered this as he walked toward his home in Tiancheng.
Since bringing his parents and the steward couple here, he had a home in Tiancheng too.
Though it wasn't as magnificent as the Meng family mansion with its dozens of bustling residents, it was warm and simple, giving him a sense of comfort.
A breeze blew by, carrying light smoke over the courtyard wall. The crisp air suddenly carried a warm, fragrant scent."It's the aroma of honey-glazed roast meat, seasoned with 'Thousand Canals Sixteen Spices'!" Meng Heze exclaimed in delight.
When wandering alone far from home, this was the taste he missed most.
Or perhaps, what he truly missed were those times hunting with the team, roasting meat and drinking around the bonfire at night, singing and chatting.
Carried by the wind came not only the familiar scent of roast meat, but also waves of joyful laughter.
Madam Meng was always proper, Old Master Meng was stern—they rarely laughed so heartily.
"What are they talking about at home?" Meng Heze tilted his head to listen, noticing a young voice among them.
The smile vanished from Meng Heze's face instantly. He burst through the door and shouted, "Wei Ping!"
In the courtyard, a grill was lit with a half-eaten lamb leg hanging over it, and warm wine sat on the table.
Madam Meng was holding Wei Ping's hand, her eyes glistening with tears: "Steward Wei, thank you."
"Wei Ping, let go of my mother!" Meng Heze strode forward.
But Madam Meng called out to her son: "Xianzheng, having such a good friend puts my mind at ease! They say at home you rely on parents, abroad you rely on friends—I'm happy for you. I'd heard immortals were heartless, but that's clearly nonsense. Cultivators are human too. Since they're human, they should have parents and friends."
Meng Heze stood frozen.
What was going on?
"Auntie, you're too kind. Brother Meng usually takes care of me more," Wei Ping lowered his head with a shy, timid smile.
He resembled the kind of honest, hardworking youth that elders dote on most. In a private school, all parents would urge their children to befriend him.
Meng Heze glared at him furiously, transmitting his voice: "Who said she's your aunt?!Just then, Old Master Meng said with satisfaction: "Steward Wei personally delivered Thousand Canals specialties, arranged our food and clothing, and even grilled the meat himself." Our Xianzheng isn't as thoughtful as you."
"Brother Meng personally brought me into Song Courtyard, and I owe my steward position entirely to his advocacy. We're as close as brothers, sworn siblings." Wei Ping told Old Master Meng: "Uncle, Auntie, please don't stand on ceremony with me. If you don't mind, consider me your adopted son. Just call me 'Little Wei.' When Brother Meng is away, I'll look after you both."
Meng Heze gnashed his teeth: "You dare claim we're as close as brothers? Since when?"
Wei Ping showed no embarrassment, only a faint, strained smile that tugged at heartstrings:
"In my heart, it's always been this way... but my cultivation is inferior to Brother Meng's. I am overreaching."
Meng Heze stared at him in shock.
Are you even speaking human language?
Who ambushed me in the alley this morning? Wasn't it you?
Noticing this, Old Master Meng coughed lightly: "Xianzheng, even though you've become a cultivator, the principles of being human remain the same. Friendship is about sincerity, mutual support, and helping each other—not temporary differences in cultivation. Do you remember the life principles I taught you?"
Meng Heze forced a smile: "Yes, Father, of course I remember."
After Old Master Meng admonished his son a few more times, Meng Heze complied repeatedly.
Being seen by Wei Ping in his "filial son" role made Meng Heze wish he could crawl into the grill. Steeling himself, he said:
"Father, Mother, Steward Wei and I have matters to discuss."Very well, you young people should communicate more," Old Master Meng said with satisfaction.
Before leaving, Madam Meng turned back with a gentle smile: "Next time you visit, Little Wei, don't trouble yourself with cooking. You must try my dishes."
"Certainly. Until next time, Uncle and Auntie.""What are you doing?! Why did you come to my house?!"
After his parents returned to their room, Meng Heze's expression turned cold. He grabbed Wei Ping and dragged him all the way out of the courtyard gate.
"What am I doing?" Wei Ping let himself be dragged along lazily. "Your parents were so happy to see me. They moved from Green Deer Prefecture, where they'd lived most of their lives and knew everything, to Thousand-Ditch Prefecture where everything's unfamiliar. Even with a filial son and loyal old servants around, they must still feel unsettled, right?"
"Today I introduced them to local customs here in Thousand Canals, took them to visit Thousand Canal Bazaar, and bought lots of novel things. Your mother enjoys playing cards, so I introduced her to the aunt next door as a card partner. Your father loves playing chess, so I introduced him to the elderly gentleman who plays chess at the street corner."
"After all I've done, instead of thanking me, you're scolding me. What kind of logic is that?"
Meng Heze felt somewhat embarrassed. "I, I thank you!" Then he came to his senses, "But if you have ulterior motives..."
"I don't have time for ulterior motives." Wei Ping interrupted. "Song Qianji is going to Huawel Sect to attend Chen Hongzhu's engagement banquet. That's the real reason I came to find you."
"What did you say?!"
Wei Ping repeated: "Are you going to do anything about this?"
Meng Heze's expression became calm and serious: "If Senior Brother Song has already decided, I can't change it. The only plan now is to make early preparations."
Wei Ping thought to himself, thank goodness for Meng Heze - much more reliable than Ji Chen.
"I suggest we intensify training for the Guard Squad, preferably to master a sword formation. You'll serve as the formation pivot. When deploying the formation against enemies, advancing and retreating together will achieve twice the result with half the effort."
Meng Heze nodded: "No need for you to worry about this. I'll arrange it."
With his assurance, Wei Ping felt quite pleased.
He coughed lightly twice, imitating Old Master Meng's tone: "Zhengxian, I know you're competitive and single-mindedly pursuing the Dao. But you should also get along well with your friends. Good friends are for a lifetime. Cultivators live long lives - only with friends' company can we avoid loneliness. Son, I won't say more..."
"Get lost!" Meng Heze raised his sword scabbard, pretending to hit him but not daring to actually do it.
If Wei Ping went back crying about being mistreated, his parents would still end up scolding him.
Wei Ping asked: "Since you're telling me to get lost, I'll leave first. We're having noodles at Song Courtyard tonight - are you coming?"
He connected the two sentences as if he were the one cooking the noodles.
"I need to practice the sword formation."
Wei Ping broke off a withered willow branch from the roadside and waved it before Meng Heze's eyes, making the other turn his head impatiently: "I'm not going."
"You'll keep your word? No regrets?"
"I already said I'm not going! Get lost quickly!"
Wei Ping smiled: "Since you're not coming, I'll eat your portion of the noodles personally cooked by Senior Brother Song."
Meng Heze suddenly realized - so this was the trap waiting for him.
He laughed inwardly, thinking how the wheel of fortune turns - all your clever schemes will eventually work against you.
Outwardly pretending regret, he snorted coldly: "Lucky you."
...
That evening, Wei Ping also pretended to regret: "Brother Meng is busy with matters and can't come. What a pity he'll miss this treat."
For this dinner, Ji Chen had bought a redwood round table and placed it beside the well in the courtyard.
Even seven or eight people could sit around it comfortably.
With Meng Heze's prior confident assurance, Ji Chen and Wei Ping sat obediently at the table, holding chopsticks and eagerly waiting.
Lin Feiyuan sneered: "Cultivators who've achieved grain avoidance, yet acting like starving ghosts reborn - truly strange."
Ji Chen retorted: "When Brother Song finishes cooking, see if you have the nerve not to fight for some!"
"Who wants to fight you lot for communal pot food? I stay in Song Courtyard all day anyway - next time I'll have him specially cook a bowl just for me."Lin Feiyuan snorted lightly and carried the cat back into the house.
Song Qianji approached cooking with the same earnest dedication as he did farming.
After tying on his apron, he first diced carrots and potatoes into small cubes. His knife moved so swiftly it left no shadow, each piece cut to identical size.
Even the most fastidious chef would praise his knife skills.
Then he carefully tasted each seasoning, determining which was salt, which was sugar, distinguishing the jar of vinegar from the soy sauce.
Wei Ping's dishes always left a subtle sweetness lingering on the tongue. Remembering this, Song Qianji casually sprinkled a handful of white sugar into the dough while kneading.
He dropped the noodles into the large pot previously used to brew Lin Feiyuan's medicine, watching the white strands churn in the boiling water.
"The medicine for Lin Feiyuan used thirty-eight rare spirit herbs. The pot still carries their fragrance and residual spiritual energy—perfect not to let it go to waste." Song Qianji smiled to himself. "Even when this Rogue Cultivator gets money, I still know how to live frugally."
Noodles must be served with soy sauce and vinegar, so he measured out appropriate amounts.
Seeing the dark color after pouring, Song Qianji shook his head inwardly. Presentation, aroma, and flavor must all be perfect. He added crimson chili oil, chili flakes, dried chili shreds, and more.
"The red makes it much more appealing! Now it just needs some green."
"Wei Ping's homemade 'Thousand Canals Sixteen Spices'—a blend of sixteen aromatics—is fragrant and exquisite, popular throughout Thousand Canals and exported as far as Hongfu."
"I'll use ten kinds. Not quite as good as his, but close enough. Last time I made noodles for Meng Heze, I didn't get to taste them—never learned how they turned out."
As Song Qianji lifted his chopsticks to sample the noodles, Wei Ping's voice came from outside the kitchen:
"Master, do you need my help? You've been busy so long, I was worried..."
Song Qianji set down the chopsticks, transferred the noodles to a large bowl, poured in the broth, and removed his apron: "No need, it's ready!"
Wei Ping accepted the bowl, sniffing slightly and silently cursing that Lin Feiyuan's injury still hadn't healed, leaving the kitchen perpetually smelling of medicine.
When the noodles reached the table, steam rose in the candlelight, the broth shimmering.
"Me first!" Ji Chen grabbed his chopsticks eagerly.
In his eyes, Song Qianji could do anything—a genius and an all-rounder.
He wondered how the world's most delicious noodles would taste.
As the noodles entered his mouth, Ji Chen's lips twitched: "This..."
"Are they bad?" Song Qianji grew slightly anxious. "I improved the recipe—used two more ingredients than last time."
"Brother Song prepared this himself with such care—how could it be bad?" Meeting Song Qianji's bright gaze, Ji Chen clutched his chest dramatically:
"They're too delicious!"
"Really?" Song Qianji said. "Let me taste—"
"No!" Ji Chen immediately lifted the entire bowl and offered it to Wei Ping. "Brother Wei, this bowl of noodles made by Brother Song's own hands—I yield it to you!"
Seeing Ji Chen's fervent expression, Wei Ping was genuinely moved.
This silly young master really considers me a brother, he thought.
He promptly accepted the bowl and took a large mouthful.
"Mmph!" Wei Ping choked up.
Such painstaking effort—truly painful.
"Do you like it?" Song Qianji asked concernedly.
Wei Ping's tongue went numb, his mouth feeling like it contained a hundred firecrackers. He nodded vigorously: "So good."
"If it's good, why are you crying?" Song Qianji handed him a handkerchief to wipe his tears.
Wei Ping hastily wiped his face: "I—I'm moved. Thinking that after this bowl, there might never be another... I can't bear it."
Song Qianji laughed: "No need for that—there's half a pot left. I won't fight you for it."
Wei Ping's vision blurred, waves of dizziness washing over him.Looking at Ji Chen again, he clasped his hands together and stood up with an apologetic expression: "I'll go get the pot for Brother Wei."
Goodness, why don't you usually run this fast?
Wei Ping wolfed down his food.
Better a bitter end than endless bitterness.
This bowl of sticky, paste-like noodle substance with its sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy flavors wasn't it just like the unpredictable, ever-changing journey of life?
...
Wei Ping spent half the night vomiting after returning, yet he didn't blame Song Qianji.
He only thought: "Just you wait, Ji Chen."
In the latter half of the night, he lit a green lamp, spread out paper, moistened his brush with ink, and began writing furiously.
The next morning, after changing into fresh clothes and careful preparation, he visited Ji Xing.
In the depths of winter, the wilderness was cold enough to freeze water, and river work had ceased. The river workers had returned home to prepare for the New Year.
After Meng Heze returned, he naturally took over the duties of city gate guarding and urban patrols, while also training the Guard Squad together with Zhou Xiaoyun.
With nothing else to do, Ji Xing returned to Tiancheng and led efforts to establish a private school.
When she saw Wei Ping enter, Ji Xing jumped up excitedly: "Xiao Ping'er, I've been waiting for you forever! Since you haven't had time to visit recently, I've actually missed you quite a bit."
Though she spoke of missing Wei Ping, her eyes were fixed on the food container in his hands, eagerly reaching to take it.
Wei Ping swung his long arm around, placing the container behind his back while his other hand pulled two thick booklets from his robe and pressed them into Ji Xing's outstretched hand: "Immortal Ji, please look at these first."
The two booklets were three fingers thick, filled densely with tiny characters upon opening.
Interspersed with many underlined blanks, they made Ji Xing's head spin:
"'Three Hundred Sixty Basic Common Knowledge of the Cultivation World,' 'Seventy-Two Things You Must Know After Guiding Qi into Your Body' - what is all this?"
"You are a novice at the Qi Refining Stage. During tonight's meditation, you suddenly feel chest tightness and shortness of breath, with low Spirit Qi absorption efficiency. You believe the reason is: A) This is the legendary bottleneck, I'm about to break through; B) The cultivation site lacks sufficient Spirit Qi, I should increase surrounding Spirit Stones or find a new auspicious location; C) First seek the cause within myself, observe whether there are impurities blocking my meridians; D)..."
"This question requires selecting one option. Correct answer earns one point, wrong answer earns zero."
The more Ji Xing read, the more confused she became. Flipping rapidly through the book, she found multiple-choice questions, essay questions, analytical questions, and more.
Wei Ping smiled: "These are the anthologies I compiled last night. After you finish them, I'll grade them."
"You—you're testing me?" Ji Xing slammed the book down indignantly, "Why?!"
Wei Ping wore a sincere expression: "Immortal Ji, don't blame me. Your elder brother asked me to test you. If you don't believe me, you can ask him."
"My brother?" Ji Xing gritted her teeth cursing her own brother: "That Ji Chen, asking for death!"
Then she smiled sweetly at Wei Ping: "My brother must have made a mistake. Rather than testing me, you should test him—his cultivation is much stronger than mine."
Wei Ping gently shook the food container with one hand, sighing regretfully: "I happened to have free time today, specially stewed Snow Frog with Beauty Flower soup, fried honey chestnuts, and steamed three varieties of small steamed buns. If you're not going to do it, Immortal..."
Ji Xing glared at him, fiercely opening to the first page: "I'll do it, I'll do it!"
Wei Ping went to supervise work at Thousand Canal Bazaar in the afternoon. Ji Chen arrived much earlier than he expected.
Ji Chen's eyes were slightly red, his face pale with anger. His magnificent Magic Robe sleeves were torn, his valuable jade crown sat crooked, and his hair was as messy as a bird's nest.
Wei Ping pretended not to know: "Brother Ji, what happened? Could it be you were robbed?"Ji Chen cried out in exasperation, "I said consider my sister, and you agreed to test my sister. But not this kind of 'testing my sister'! Damn it! You don't need to test my sister anymore!"
He thought to himself, it turns out even the most even-tempered cultivator can turn into a pervert after suffering romantic disappointment.
How could anyone who hasn't experienced heart-wrenching romantic pain write something like the "Three Hundred and Sixty Basic Common Sense Questions of the Cultivation World" anthology? Only a true pervert could create such a thing.
Wei Ping straightened Ji Chen's robes, sincerely smoothing out the wrinkles with a genuine expression:
"Brother Ji, how could I dare to trouble your esteemed sister? I've noticed that the new Outer Sect disciples lately lack common knowledge, and it's not convenient for them to keep bothering Senior Brother Song."
"As our Thousand Canals develops better and better, word will spread, and soon a group of young cultivators from mortal backgrounds will come to join us. More people mean greater strength. Only when Thousand Canals has more and stronger cultivators can we compete with sects like Huawel Sect."
"So I was thinking of opening a library, compiling a set of teaching materials, printing hundreds of copies, and letting them borrow freely. This would cultivate their self-study ability and save Senior Brother Song's time."
Ji Chen's trembling body gradually calmed down: "Really?"
Wei Ping nodded: "Your sister, Fairy Ji, is innocent and adorable. Having lived under your protection since childhood, she lacks interest in cultivation and even more lacks common knowledge about navigating the Cultivation World. By watching her answer questions, I can identify which questions need variation and repeated appearances to reinforce memory. Which questions are truly basic, so fundamental that even your sister can answer them without hesitation. I can also see how to improve the anthology to make dull cultivation more interesting."
Ji Chen felt there was something vaguely wrong with this reasoning, but couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, so he could only nod:
"So I misunderstood you. You really do need to test my sister."
Wei Ping grasped Ji Chen's hand: "Brother Ji, I need your help in compiling this teaching material too. Are you willing to assist?"Ji Chen loved the feeling of being needed and relied upon - it made him feel like he had completely transformed, utterly different from the useless person he used to be."
"If it's for Thousand Canals, for Senior Brother Song, I cannot refuse!" He high-fived Wei Ping, "From today onward, we'll test my sister together!"
"Regarding Fairy Ji, I'm afraid it will still require your effort," Wei Ping said.
Ji Chen declared boldly: "She can't hit me hard enough to hurt, just costs me some dignity. I'm not afraid."
No struggling student can maintain a good mood while doing exercises.
Every time Ji Chen delivered the anthology, he did so with trepidation. Ji Xing wouldn't let him leave while she was working on problems. When frustrated, she'd punch him twice to adjust her mood.
When deep in thought, she'd punch twice to broaden her thinking.
After solving a problem, she'd punch twice more to celebrate.
When the anthology was filled with dense ink characters, Ji Chen would retreat with his mission accomplished, making way for Wei Ping to appear with a food box.
"Fairy, you've worked hard on these problems. Rest now and eat well."
The nine-grid box was placed on the table, with meat and vegetables arranged in bright colors, steaming aromas wafting up, moving Ji Xing to tears:
"Little Ping'er, your cooking skills keep improving. Today's snow fungus lily beauty flower sweet soup - sweet but not cloying, it must have been simmered over low heat for three hours to develop such flavor. One sip leaves fragrance on the tongue. You treat me so well."
Wei Ping modestly replied: "Fairy, you flatter me too much. The soup is just ordinary."
"Aren't we the same? Both working on compiling teaching materials." Ji Chen scratched his head, puzzled: "How come you get praised every time, while I get beaten daily?"
Wei Ping suppressed a laugh: "Do I? Not really."
Ji Chen said angrily: "Are you doing this on purpose?"Wei Ping threw an arm over his shoulder and coaxed, "Brother Ji, Young Master Ji, Great Formation Master Ji—once this anthology is published, you'll be 'Ji Bianxiu'! On behalf of all the young cultivators and diligent scholars of Thousand Canals, I thank you."
Thanks to Ji Chen’s fearless sacrifice in the face of his younger sister’s iron fists, the first edition of the anthology was swiftly compiled.
Upon its release, it was immediately met with enthusiastic welcome from the Outer Sect disciples.
Beneath the title on the cover, Wei Ping's name was conspicuously absent, replaced instead by the inscription: "Compiled by Ji Chen of Thousand-Ditch Prefecture."
The characters for "Ji Chen" swept across the page in flamboyant, dragon-like strokes—bold and impossible to miss.
Clutching the anthology, Ji Chen sought out Wei Ping with visible embarrassment. "You wrote all the problems. How could I presume to claim credit?"
Wei Ping smiled gently. "No, this honor is rightfully yours."
In countless solitary nights spent studying by lamplight, the young cultivators of Thousand Canals would direct their most profound love and hatred not toward Huawel Sect, nor toward companions or secret crushes, but entirely upon the two characters spelling "Ji Chen."
Love, because someone genuinely cared about their cultivation progress. Checking answers against the key and discussing solutions among themselves proved immensely rewarding.
Hatred, because the problems grew increasingly unpredictable, described with excruciating specificity, and were phrased with such biting sarcasm that they etched themselves permanently into memory.
A single attempt at solving them felt like living through the described predicaments:
"Have you seen Ji Chen's new problems? They're getting sadistic! That scenario about 'a Foundation Building cultivator blocking the path ahead, low-rank demon beasts chasing from behind, an unconscious gravely injured companion on my back, while I'm still coughing up blood'—what did you choose?"
"Don't even mention it! I haven't reached that one yet. Last night, my friend and I struggled through half a volume and ended up weeping in each other's arms. Formation Master Ji has no mercy."
"What kind of ruthless person devises problems like these!"
Chief Steward Wei remained as approachable and well-liked as ever.
Formation Master Ji, however, had transformed into a stern, exacting mentor who inspired fear.
When young students encountered Ji Chen on the road, they immediately yielded way and bowed. If forced to address him, they would first respectfully utter, "Greetings, Master Ji."
While walking together through Thousand Canal Bazaar, Ji Chen gradually noticed something amiss. "They seem somewhat afraid of me. Why?"
Wei Ping fabricated effortlessly: "They're new to Thousand Canals—still timid around strangers."
"Then why aren't they afraid of you? They even joke with you."
Wei Ping covered a light cough with his hand. "Your cultivation has advanced rapidly lately. Your spiritual pressure leaks out, intimidating them."
Ji Chen nodded thoughtfully. "Is that so?"
Wei Ping turned and greeted a street vendor pushing a cart, purchasing a glistening candied hawthorn berry skewer for Ji Chen. "Here, eat. Don't overthink it."
The sugar-coated berries resembled crimson flames encased in ice. Ji Chen crunched through the crystalline glaze, the tart-sweet flavor bursting delightfully on his tongue.
Wei Ping smiled.
The debt for yielding face had finally been repaid.
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