Chapter 66: Not Leaving in Anger

Ji Jiuxuan, who had been quietly moved just a moment ago, was instantly amused by Meng Jiao’s words. She truly liked her senior sister’s personality—straightforward and unpretentious.

“I’m here!” Jiuxuan hurried over to her side, eyeing the large bowl of noodles and asking with a smile, “Senior sister, is this the Longevity Noodles of the Mortal Realm?”

In this world, there was the Immortal Cultivation Realm and the Mortal Realm. The Immortal Cultivation Realm also housed ordinary people, who lived peacefully alongside cultivators—when ordinary folk were in trouble, cultivators would step in to help. But the Mortal Realm was different; it was a world entirely of mortals, where cultivators, if they entered, had to abide by worldly rules and disguise their cultivation.

If any cultivator dared to use spiritual power, the rules of the Mortal Realm would erase them.

Meng Jiao was from the Mortal Realm, taken on as a disciple by Nie Xingyuan during his mortal world training years ago.

“You’re clever, junior sister—that’s exactly what it is.” Placing the bowl of Longevity Noodles before Jiuxuan, she grinned, “Go on, try it! But remember, you mustn’t bite through the noodles!”

It was a custom in the Mortal Realm. Some cultivators might scoff, thinking that, as seekers of immortality, eating Longevity Noodles was pointless compared to relying on their own cultivation.

But Ji Jiuxuan didn’t think that way. After all, her senior sister had cooked for her personally! She had to finish this meal out of gratitude.

Nie Xingyuan glanced at his somewhat unreliable disciple. That bowl was the size of Ah Jiu’s face—could the little one still have room for the dragon-phoenix broth she’d been longing for after finishing it?

The others, seeing Jiuxuan’s delight, said nothing but quietly prepared some digestive remedies, just in case.

Meng Jiao had truly put in effort kneading the dough; the noodles were springy and delicious.

It was the best bowl of noodles she’d ever had. Even as the aroma of dragon-phoenix broth wafted over, it held less allure for her now.

Looking at the empty bowl, Meng Jiao asked expectantly, “Well? How does it taste?”

The other four watched her with concern.

Nie Xingyuan unconsciously asked, “Do you need your uncle-master to help with digestion?”

Only then did Meng Jiao realize she’d once again unwittingly set up her junior sister.

Meeting their worried gazes, Ji Jiuxuan smiled, “No need, uncle-master. I have a glutton’s stomach—once I circulate some spiritual power, I’m not full anymore.”

Perhaps because her spiritual energy circulated faster in her body, no matter how much she ate, she never felt stuffed.

For someone who loved food, this was the greatest blessing—she could devour a giant feast without any trouble.

Meng Jiao watched Jiuxuan anxiously, trying to discern any discomfort, but found nothing amiss.

“I’m really fine, senior sister!” Jiuxuan’s smile was utterly sincere, and after finishing the Longevity Noodles, she was already drawn to the dragon-phoenix broth.

She stood, patted her little belly, and grinned, “See? I wasn’t lying—my stomach is still flat, not full at all.”

Since arriving in this world, Ji Jiuxuan, whose soul was that of a modern adult, had become increasingly pampered and childlike.

After doing this, she suddenly felt embarrassed—how childish, how awkward!

Even so, she still carried the unique, gentle scent of a child, thanks to her careful upbringing. With such a gesture, Meng Jiao was the first to soften.

“All right, since you’re not full, what else would you like to eat?”

Nie Xingyuan nearly pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He suspected that the little one might be as unreliable as her senior sister—how else could they get along so well? She kept up with Meng Jiao’s antics without missing a beat, never even noticing when she was being set up.

He began to worry—one unreliable disciple was enough; little Ah Jiu mustn’t be led astray.

Completely oblivious to Nie Xingyuan’s concerns, Jiuxuan pulled Meng Jiao toward the nearly finished broth.

She unlocked the pot’s spiritual seal, and instantly, a rich aroma burst forth, accompanied by dense spiritual energy that startled Zhou Guangsheng and the others to their feet.

Qi Shuoyuan and Zhou Guangsheng moved in unison, sealing the entire Xuanheng Courtyard with a formation, ensuring nothing—no scent, no sound—could escape.

Looking up at the formation, Ji Jiuxuan asked, “Grandfather, Master, is this broth really that high-grade?”

With no specialized training in alchemy, she could only sense that the broth was extraordinary, but couldn’t determine its exact level.

“It is,” Qi Shuoyuan gently warned, “Ah Jiu, from now on, never make this broth when we’re not around. It might attract trouble.”

So serious? If she added a Phoenix Feather Imperial Bird next time, wouldn’t the soup’s grade be even higher? If grandfather and master were home, would she even dare to cook with such a creature?

After all, the Phoenix Feather Imperial Bird was as formidable as the Heavenly Condemnation Serpent—extremely powerful.

Grandfather had just taught her to avoid unnecessary risks; if she took a reckless chance, she’d surely be scolded.

But if she did brew it, perhaps they’d help keep it a secret. Yuheng’s ingredients were nothing to feel guilty about cooking.

Thinking it over, she wasn’t the least bit dissuaded—she even began plotting quietly.

“Yes, I’ll remember.” With that, she took out six large porcelain bowls from her storage, each filled with meat and broth.

The chicken was stewed to perfect tenderness, and the Heavenly Dry Serpent’s meat infused the soup with a sweetness that left everyone craving more.

The moment the broth entered the mouth, it transformed into spiritual energy, nourishing every part of the body.

Ji Jiuxuan marveled at the effect—it was better than any pill, pure and free of side effects.

After that, the table fell silent as everyone focused on eating.

Both great cauldrons of dragon-phoenix broth, originally meant to be stored for later, were completely emptied—not a single drop remained.

The night was tranquil and beautiful. Ji Jiuxuan lay resting on her bed, her mind replaying the day’s events, her heart brimming with joy.

She rubbed her hands together, grinning with delight. “System, come on! Time for a lottery draw!”

Her luck had been phenomenal today; surely her fortune wouldn’t fail her now.

She pressed her hands together in prayer. “Let bad luck fade away, let good fortune come my way!”

She looked so eager that the system wondered if the wine she’d inhaled earlier hadn’t yet worn off.

“All right, close your eyes and sleep.”

Obediently, Ji Jiuxuan closed her eyes and fell asleep in seconds, astounding the system.

Standing in the endless black void, the system praised, “Host, your speed at falling asleep is unmatched.”

Ji Jiuxuan wasn’t sure if the system was complimenting or mocking her. “Come on! I can’t wait any longer!”

Cultivation techniques that allowed one to fight above their level were nearly unheard of; if they existed, they were passed down within families, and using them always came with severe side effects.

In the darkness, a screen of spiritual energy lit up, displaying the familiar lottery wheel—except the task options were gone, replaced by rows of manuals.

Recalling her last poor luck, Jiuxuan raised her hand and tapped the draw button.

A burst of golden light made her squint, and when she opened her eyes, only one manual remained on the screen.

“Hualing Shadow Technique.”

Another technique bearing the Hualing name—what a fated connection!

Reading the description carefully, she reached the section on its flaws and burst out laughing.