The tavern sat beside the river, its layers of folding screens shutting out the clamor of the outside world, a faint stick of incense burning on the counter.
Ji Zhaoxi had come out with Wen Shubai after all. She was afraid that after so long without a proper meal, he wouldn't recognize the dishes.
The waiter served the food with great care, sneaking glances at the two of them from time to time.
Ji Zhaoxi leaned over the carved railing, watching the painted boats gliding across the river, her heart itching with longing.
"Senior Brother, I want to play on one of those too."
Wen Shubai was patiently picking the bones out of a fish. Finally, he pushed a small bowl of belly meat in front of Ji Zhaoxi, saying in a gentle voice, "Alright."
Even though the food at Drunken Immortal Tavern was delicious, there wasn't much variety—the same dishes kept coming around and around.
Wen Shubai sipped his hot tea, his gaze unconsciously drifting toward Ji Zhaoxi. He watched her eyes narrow with delight as she savored something tasty, and couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.
He realized that watching his junior sister eat brought him more satisfaction than meditation ever had.
The waiter finished serving the dishes and slipped out quietly.
The moment he stepped outside, a crowd immediately gathered around him.
"So? Are they cultivators?"
"Probably. I saw they were carrying swords."
The waiter lowered his voice: "Seems like it. The woman called the man 'Senior Brother,' and the man wasn't eating at all—he just kept looking after her."
The others looked puzzled.
"Which sect are they from? So attentive to his junior sister."
"Definitely not Heavenly Abyss Sect. Those disciples, tsk tsk..."
Inside the private room, Ji Zhaoxi had eaten her fill. When she looked up and saw the empty table in front of Wen Shubai, a pang of guilt struck her.
"Senior Brother, are you sure you won't try some? This is made from spirit fruits—it's really good."
Wen Shubai looked at the crystal-clear spirit fruit in the spoon, then at Ji Zhaoxi's slightly embarrassed face.
Lowering his eyes, he leaned in and, taking the spoon from her hand, brought it to his lips.
"Senior Brother, what do you think?" Ji Zhaoxi pressed close to him, looking at him expectantly.
She'd eaten two bowls of it herself, so it had to be good.
A burst of sweetness dissolved on his tongue. Wen Shubai felt no particular reaction to the flavor, but he smiled at her. "It's delicious. Thank you, Junior Sister."
Ji Zhaoxi met his gaze and stammered, "Senior Brother, you're the one who paid for it—why are you thanking me?"
Her money was all back at Heavenly Abyss Sect. When Wen Shubai had first brought her to this tavern, Ji Zhaoxi had refused to go in.
She thought that since Wen Shubai had spent so long at Heavenly Abyss Sect, he surely wouldn't know that everything in the mortal world cost money, and she was certain he had none.
Wen Shubai thought she didn't like this tavern, so he took her to several others. The two of them wandered back and forth down the street for so long that everyone else started staring at them.
Finally, a wealthy merchant kindly approached: "Honored immortals, are you looking for a place to eat? Allow me to treat you."
Only then did Wen Shubai realize what Ji Zhaoxi was worried about. He reassured her not to be concerned—he could withdraw funds from the money house.
That evening, the street was hung with rows of bright red lanterns. Stalls lined both sides, and street performers were breathing fire, occasionally spitting out a blazing ball.
"Senior Brother, come look at this!" Ji Zhaoxi ducked into a stall selling clay figurines, turning back with her eyes sparkling as she looked at him.
No matter how far she ran, whenever she turned around, Wen Shubai was always there behind her. He never seemed irritated—just lowered his eyes and smiled at her.
"Senior Brother, let's make two clay figurines."
Wen Shubai gave a low, soft assent. In his left hand he held a candied hawthorn stick and a bag of roasted chestnuts; in his right, several delicate paper lanterns.
A few children, taking advantage of their small stature, darted through the crowd. Ji Zhaoxi, busy eating her candied hawthorn, was bumped into by the kids and staggered back a step, crashing squarely into a warm embrace.
"Careful." A gentle voice sounded above her head.
Ji Zhaoxi knew it was Wen Shubai behind her, so she leaned against him without restraint, waiting impatiently for their figurines to be done.
The stall was packed with people, and the crowd kept pushing forward. Ji Zhaoxi was pressed backward against Wen Shubai's chest, her back flush against him, while he lightly held her shoulders.
Her loose hair brushed against his Adam's apple with every slight movement. Wen Shubai's throat bobbed; he inclined his head a little to the side.
"Senior Brother, look—that clay doll looks just like me!" Ji Zhaoxi turned excitedly, pointing at the little figure the stall owner was shaping.
Hearing her voice, Wen Shubai lowered his eyes. His gaze happened to land on the candied hawthorn in her hand—glossy and clear, with her bite mark still fresh on its surface.
"Senior Brother, in a moment the stall owner will make yours..."
Wen Shubai's gaze unconsciously stopped at Ji Zhaoxi's lips. Because she'd just taken a bite, her lips were glossed with a bright sheen of sugar, catching the lantern light and revealing a soft, delicate hue.
His Adam's apple rolled involuntarily. A single, absurd thought surfaced in his mind.
That candied hawthorn looked… really delicious…
After they got the figurines, Ji Zhaoxi was overjoyed, chattering away as they walked. Wen Shubai listened to her with a gentle expression, his eyes lowered, quieter than usual.
They had spent a long time out that day, and Ji Zhaoxi quickly fell asleep on her bed after her bath.
The lively street had gone completely silent. No more voices came from outside. Inside the room, a single oil lamp flickered, its flame dancing without pause.
Wen Shubai sat cross-legged in meditation, his back ramrod straight, hands resting on his knees, eyes closed.
The room was utterly still. Apart from their faint breathing, no other sound could be heard.
Then, a chill, ominous aura seeped in through the crack beneath the door. Demon energy carried a thick stench of decay. Sensing Wen Shubai's cultivation level, the shadow flattened itself against the floor, slithering toward Ji Zhaoxi on the bed.
Black smoke condensed slowly. Just as it neared her, a sword aura slashed through the darkness in an instant. No sound was made—the black smoke dissolved completely, withering into a wisp of nothing.
Footsteps light, Wen Shubai walked to the bedside. He leaned down, pulled the blanket Ji Zhaoxi had kicked off back up over her, then pinched the corner of the quilt and carefully tucked the edges in, fold by fold.
Early the next morning, Wen Shubai announced he would teach Ji Zhaoxi how to train her spiritual power.
"Senior Brother, is it because my talent is too high that you don't want it to go to waste?" Ji Zhaoxi looked at him with guilt in her eyes.
It was all her fault—she knew her talent was extraordinary, and yet she still didn't train hard enough, making Senior Brother worry.
There probably weren't many in Heavenly Abyss Sect with talent as high as hers. Otherwise, why would Senior Brother be so urgent about her training?
Wen Shubai let out a soft laugh. "Junior Sister is right. I truly don't want to see your talent squandered."
Hearing him say that, Ji Zhaoxi immediately felt a surge of motivation.
