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The inn they were staying at was small, nestled a few towns away from the bustle of Linyi. Despite its size, it was quite crowded—no doubt a popular stopover for most traveling cultivators like Mo Ran and Chu Wanning. The place buzzed with overlapping conversations, accompanied by the occasional creak of wooden beams overhead. A short line had formed in the foyer where people requested and paid for their rooms.
Not wanting Chu Wanning to tire more than he already had—not that his shizun would ever admit it—Mo Ran urged him to sit in the dining hall. He told Chu Wanning to reserve them a table before the crowd became even more unmanageable once the sun set. Chu Wanning agreed easily when Mo Ran worded his coddling like Chu Wanning would be doing him a favor.
After a while, Mo Ran reached the front of the queue, the line longer than it was when they had first arrived. The innkeeper apologetically informed him that there was only one room available, loud enough that the rest of the people in the foyer could hear him. A cacophony of groans could be heard in the room following the innkeeper's words. Some people left to find another inn while a larger group headed straight to the dining hall to at least have a well-prepared meal before camping out in the cold.
After paying for the room and consoling the cultivator standing behind him, Mo Ran flashed the innkeeper a dimpled smile instead of following the crowd into the dining hall to find Chu Wanning. “Sorry to put you on the spot like this, but would it be possible for me to use the kitchens briefly?” He asked.
The innkeeper gave him a weird look. Mo Ran could see the man wanted to turn him away. The place was booming, and no doubt the kitchen staff were neck-deep in work.
Without giving the innkeeper an opportunity to refuse him just yet, Mo Ran continued speaking. “My shizun has strict dietary restrictions, and I usually make all his meals for him.” This was another reason Mo Ran had sent Chu Wanning ahead. His thin face would never have been able to handle a bald-faced lie like this, especially one that made him look fussy and spoiled.
The spoiled part wasn’t too far off the mark, though, Mo Ran thought to himself. His Wanning had gotten used to eating his home-cooked meals all the time, which were completely catered to his tastes—down to the level of salt and the consistency of the sauces. And at times like this, when sleeping in the wild just wasn’t practical, Mo Ran had made it a habit of asking the inn’s staff if he could use their kitchen for a meal or two. They usually agreed to his request. Both he and Chu Wanning looked like important people with a lot of money, so most innkeepers did whatever they could to get in their good graces—and Mo Ran made sure to tip well when he made use of an inn’s facilities this way.
The innkeeper looked Mo Ran up and down, then behind him toward the door Mo Ran assumed led to the kitchen. His brows furrowed in annoyance. “Is this some sort of prank, what’s with you cultivators these days? Shizun this, shizun that! Are you going to threaten to blow up our establishment too, huh?!” The end of his tirade was almost a full-on yell.
Mo Ran looked at the man, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. This... was not exactly the reaction he had been expecting. A rejection, sure, Mo Ran’s request wasn’t all that reasonable. But he hadn’t expected to be berated by the innkeeper for no apparent reason. Blow up their establishment? What the hell was this man even talking about?
Realizing he had gotten too worked up and possibly yelled at the disciple of some major sect, the man bowed, then scratched the back of his neck, sheepish though still annoyed. “Forgive my outburst,” he apologized. Mo Ran’s disarming good looks—plus his utter shock—had worked in his favor once more. “Just before gongzi showed up, another cultivator asked to make use of our kitchen. I refused since we have our hands full with customers, as you can see, but the man threatened to... resort to violence if we didn’t comply.” He sighed.
Mo Ran stole a glance at the door connecting the foyer to the kitchen. A cultivator threatening violence at the drop of a hat left to his own devices in the kitchens of a very crowded inn… It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.
Still wanting to cook for Chu Wanning but also curious to see who this menace of a cultivator was, Mo Ran made another offer. “If mister doesn’t mind, I could go check on this person to make sure they aren’t causing any harm in there.”
The innkeeper’s eyes lit up at Mo Ran’s words. “Yes, yes! This one would appreciate that very, very much! You can make use of the kitchen while you’re at it too. Just make sure the other xianjun doesn’t end up destroying the place!”
Mo Ran smiled at the man and made his way toward the kitchen. Expecting to walk into an active battlefield between the cooks and the cultivator who had forced his way into their workplace, Mo Ran was surprised when the first thing that greeted him was the fragrant smell of aromatics and the quick staccato of a knife hitting the cutting board. The room was warmer than the foyer—leaning toward sweltering. A large pot of soup simmered, occasionally being stirred by whoever walked past it. Five workers moved in tandem to fulfill the orders of a dining hall filled to the brim.
At first, Mo Ran did not spot the cultivator the innkeeper had been complaining about. But in the far corner of the kitchen, completely separated from the rest of the people, stood a man dressed in blacks and reds. The silk of his robes almost glimmered under the warm lantern light and Mo Ran could tell his sword must be worth a fortune from its sheath alone. He was clearly a man of importance or at least a man with a lot of money.
Unlike his large presence, his workstation was small. Consisting only of a table that could barely hold all the ingredients the cultivator had dumped on it. And, most curiously, a stove of his own, fueled by spiritual energy.
Intrigued, Mo Ran unconsciously stepped closer to the man, drawn by his portable stovetop and general lack of hostility, contrary to what the innkeeper had warned him about. He watched as the man took out frozen cubes of minced garlic from a qiankun pouch radiating spiritual energy, and added them to his pan. Mo Ran could also see the etchings of an array in the pouch, figuring it was to keep ingredients cold.
Another jug, pre-portioned with herbs and spices, was also added to the food, and Mo Ran found himself slightly stunned by the man’s efficiency and advanced tools. He moved like someone who knew their way around a kitchen. The cabbage he placed on his cutting board was chopped and added to the pan before Mo Ran could count to ten. As he continued standing there, watching the man work, he loathed to admit that the man was a much better cook than he was.
He was about to ask about his experience and maybe some tips when the cultivator hefted a generous pinch of sugar into the mix.
“That is a lot of sugar for a stir-fry,” Mo Ran commented.
The man didn’t even look up from his work when he answered Mo Ran’s not-really-a-question, seemingly used to people asking him things while cooking. “This is how Shizun prefers it. It also balances out the acidity of everything else.”
Mo Ran let out a considering “Huh,” as he observed the man’s workflow a little longer.
On the right side of his table sat dishes the man was done with. Mo Ran couldn’t see his exact setup, but he was sure the man had arranged them so that they wouldn’t go cold even as he worked on the rest of his meal.
“That freeze pouch thing you’ve got there looks real handy,” Mo Ran commented.
The man did not growl exactly, but he sure did come close to it. “What do you want?”
Whoops, thought Mo Ran, there was that aggression he was warned of. “Sorry, buddy.” he raised his hands in pseudo-surrender. If the man did decide to attack, Mo Ran believed he was more than capable of taking him down. Though, he kept his hands up to show him he didn’t mean any harm. Before the situation could blow over, Mo Ran decided to stop fanning the flames of the man’s temper. “I was just curious about your setup. I will leave you be.”
To his surprise, the previously hostile expression on the cultivator’s face grew darker once he turned around and faced Mo Ran. So much so that Mo Ran unconsciously looked himself over, making sure he looked alright. Confused about why the man seemed even more irked despite his apologizing, Mo Ran silently backed off. After all, he had promised the innkeeper that he would keep the aggressive cultivator in check and prevent an explosion in the kitchens.
Mo Ran turned around and headed toward the counters where the regular kitchen staff were doing their work. Before arriving at the inn Mo Ran and Chu Wanning had stopped near a river to clean off the traces of the long journey. During that small break, Mo Ran had caught a few fish to cook over fire once it was time for them to set up camp. He took them out of his camping pack and looked for an empty workstation to start deboning.
The kitchen staff were friendly, especially after Mo Ran smiled and politely asked for their permission to use their space, despite already having the innkeeper's permission. Without fuss—unlike the cultivator Mo Ran was asked to watch over—he got to work on his own dish.
After making sure the fish was still fresh, Mo Ran ran the carp under cold water and then thoroughly cleaned it. He reluctantly threw away the heads as he wasn’t using them in his recipe. He would’ve liked to save them for a soup base, but when one of the cooks he asked said they would have no use for the heads either, he dropped them into the waste bin. He then fileted the remaining carp and set it aside.
Borrowing the spices and sauces he needed from the cooks, Mo Ran placed the carp skin side first in his pan and watched it sizzle.
He approached one of the cooks once he added the last ingredients and made sure the fish was cooking evenly. “Excuse me, what desserts are you serving today?” He asked.
The woman stirring the large pot of soup smiled and considered his question for a moment. “Almond jelly and ginger soy milk pudding. We have a few tarts leftover from breakfast as well.” From the smile on her face, he could tell that the tarts weren’t being served during tonight’s meal but Mo Ran himself was welcome to take as many as he liked.
Mo Ran smiled back at the woman knowingly and asked her to arrange a tray of desserts for him to bring to the dining hall.
By the time Mo Ran was done with the desserts, the carp had finished cooking. He quickly plated everything up and placed them on a tray one of the cooks provided him with, while he waited for the other woman to bring the desserts over.
Mo Ran checked on the unfriendly cultivator one last time to make sure he wasn’t getting into any trouble. As he expected, the cultivator continued cooking after Mo Ran had stopped bothering him and appeared calm. Then, he left the kitchen to go eat with Chu Wanning.
The dining hall was packed to the brim with cultivators and civilians alike. The chatter was loud, some sounded vexed at the crowded conditions while others laughed freely over their meals. The air felt heavy with the scents of soy, ginger, and fried oils, as Mo Ran's eyes darted through the shifting sea of robes and faces. With every single table and seat occupied, Mo Ran had a difficult time spotting Chu Wanning in the crowd.
When he did, Mo Ran rushed past the waitstaff and patrons and made a beeline to his shizun’s table. He dodged people left and right, avoiding crashing into anyone with his tray that was precariously overloaded with food.
Coming to a stop next to the table, Mo Ran noticed that Chu Wanning was not sitting by himself.
One table for four, occupied by two men with equally dignified countenances, drew the attention of many onlookers. The hubbub of the hall quieted down around them. Chu Wanning donned in his usual white robes with his high ponytail, sat ramrod straight. He looked as unapproachable as always, but he didn’t look bothered. Whoever his company was, Chu Wanning didn’t seem to mind their presence.
Across the table from him sat a man in light green robes holding a fan in his hands. His eyebrows had a gentle curve, and his dark brown eyes twinkled with amusement, a smile stretching across his lips.
Two contrasting individuals, yet both equally poised and beautiful. Together, they painted quite the picture.
Chu Wanning nodded along to something the man in green had said, then turned his gaze toward Mo Ran as soon as he noticed his presence. The man in green also fell silent when Chu Wanning’s attention shifted.
“Oh,” the man exhaled. “Is this the companion you are travelling with?”
Chu Wanning nodded.
“I apologize for imposing on your dinner,” he said. “This one is called Shen Qingqiu. I asked Chu-xiong here if we could dine at your table since the others were all full.”
Mo Ran raised an eyebrow at Shen Qingqiu’s informality, but it quickly gave way to a smile. In record time, this man had gained Chu Wanning’s approval. Mo Ran had no intention of souring the mood by being hostile for no reason. “It’s no trouble. If Wanning doesn’t mind, neither do I.”
Mo Ran introduced himself to Shen Qingqiu, and they exchanged pleasantries. Shen Qingqiu proved to be a good conversation partner. The more they spoke, the more Mo Ran felt the man fully embodied sweetness.
“You two are master and disciple?”Shen Qinagqiu asked, clearly intrigued.
Chu Wanning hummed an affirmative, not wanting to go further into detail about their relationship.
“Ah, it’s rare to see masters travelling with their students these days. You must be quite close, then,” Shen Qingqiu prodded with a knowing smile.
Chu Wanning cleared his throat and averted his gaze from Shen Qingqiu.
Mo Ran had been about to ask the man what he did for a living, as a change of subject, when he noticed Chu Wanning’s eyes drifting toward the tray of food in his hands. That was when Mo Ran realized he had yet to sit down and was still standing beside the table with food in hand.
Not wanting to make Chu Wanning suffer any longer, Mo Ran quickly placed the tray on the table and apologized for forgetting about it in the first place.
“Apologies Shen-xiansheng. I only prepared enough food for Wanning and I, but I can go back to grab some more.”
Shen Qingqiu shook his head. “No worries. My husband should be in the kitchen preparing a meal for us as well. Perhaps you’ve seen him already?”
That made Mo Ran pause. There had only been one other person who didn’t belong there when Mo Ran entered—the cultivator who had threatened to blow up the whole place. The man who nearly pounced on Mo Ran for asking about his pouch… was married to Shen Qingqiu?
As if on cue, a voice from behind Mo Ran shouted toward their table. “Shizun, apologies for taking so long!”
There stood the man holding a tray in his hands, just like Mo Ran had been a moment ago. Mo Ran had noticed the array of meals the cultivator had prepared but seeing them all stacked on top of each other… It was impressive, to say the least.
His smile dropped immediately upon noticing Shen Qingqiu’s company. “Shizun… why are you sitting with strangers? Let’s go up to our room and eat there instead.”
Shen Qingqiu stood up from his seat to help his husband place the dishes he was carrying on the table. But before that, he gave him a light tap on the tip of his nose with the fan. “Don’t be silly, Binghe. They’ve been generous enough to let us sit here, and I find their presence quite pleasant.”
Shen Qingqiu’s husband, Binghe, glared at Mo Ran, slumped his shoulders, and began to pout. “Of course, my presence alone is not enough for shizun,” he sniffled.
Mo Ran rolled his eyes. How childish. Sure, he hadn’t minded Shen Qingqiu’s presence, but it wasn’t as if he preferred dining with a group over eating alone with Wanning. Why was this man acting as if Mo Ran was actively trying to keep him and his husband apart?
Shen Qingqiu, though, seemed physically pained by Binghe’s act. He reached up to pat his husband’s hair and caressed his cheek. “Luo Binghe, you know that is not true.”
Glancing at Chu Wanning, Mo Ran caught his shizun’s eyes as they both bore witness to such a display. He made a mental note to be more mindful of the way he behaved the next time they shared a meal with Xue Meng.
Luo Binghe huffed, still pouting, but went around the table to take a seat next to Shen Qingqiu.
“Let’s all eat, shall we?” said Shen Qingqiu with a clap of his hands.
Mo Ran decidedly ignored the man in front of him and focused all of his attention on Chu Wanning instead. Noticing his shizun had yet to place anything on his plate, Mo Ran grabbed some bamboo shoots and a fish filet for him.
“I am not so incompetent that I can’t grab food for myself,” Chu Wanning grumbled but didn’t stop him, choosing to reciprocate by placing food on Mo Ran’s plate after Mo Ran was done.
From the corner of his eyes, Mo Ran could see Luo Binghe placing his chopsticks in front of Shen Qingqiu’s lips and waiting for him to take a bite.
“What are you doing?” Shen Qingqiu questioned. But after a short while, he let out a wistful sigh and opened his mouth.
This was going to be a long dinner.