Jiufang Ce, Jiufang Shixuan, and Jiufang Ziming had already departed. Qian Xuelang and Ren Yijue remained a while longer.
The main reason was that, before leaving, Ren Yijue very much wanted to taste Shui Wuchen’s cooking. She was overjoyed at the suggestion and hurried out to buy ingredients so she could cook for him.
When she returned, Qian Xuelang walked into the kitchen and spoke, as rarely as ever. “I will not eat any.”
Shui Wuchen was directing Ren Yijue as her kitchen assistant and was in high spirits. At his words she waved him away impatiently. “I know, I know. I will not make you eat it.”
“Does Miss Wuchen cook often?” Ren Yijue asked casually as he picked over the vegetables.
Shui Wuchen shook her head and smiled. “Ce-lang and I have both cultivated to quite an advanced level, so we have long been accustomed to going without food or drink. But I have had nothing much to do for years, so I enjoy experimenting with new dishes. I often make them for Ce-lang. He always says they do not suit his taste, yet he takes a bite every time. I know he likes different things from me. It has been that way since long ago.”
It seemed the two disciples had judged correctly. Not only had Lord Dingtao suffered terribly when he was rescued years ago, but he was also suffering torment daily throughout his married life, and doing so entirely of his own free will.
Qian Xuelang suddenly asked, “If it does not suit his taste, why does he try it? And if you know he dislikes it, why do you offer it to him?”
Ren Yijue could not suppress a smile and was just about to answer when Shui Wuchen, who had rolled up her sleeves to wash a wok, laughed. “Goodness, you practice the Emotionless Dao. Why are you suddenly so interested in the ways of love?”
“If one does not understand emotion, how can one be free of it?”
Now Shui Wuchen was genuinely surprised. She paused and grew serious. “That is true. I could tell you had changed considerably, but I did not realize your cultivation had advanced so far. Let me think how best to explain it… The food I make may not suit Ce-lang’s taste, but I made it. Naturally, he wants to try a bite.”
Qian Xuelang asked again, “Why should he want to taste it simply because you made it?”
“Because that is how love works. He wants to share in whatever I do, whether it is a new piece I play, a dish I prepare, or an outfit I have just made. Because it is me, the same things become different.”
Qian Xuelang said, “Is that also why you want Jiufang Ce to taste your food?”
“Exactly. When I play a new piece, he wants to hear it, and I want him to hear it. When I cook, he wants to eat it, and I want him to eat it. When I make new clothes, he wants to see them, and I want him to see them. Because it is him, and no one else.”
Qian Xuelang listened without being certain he understood. For no reason he could explain, he remembered yesterday’s dream. All his life, he had never wanted to be with anyone. The little deer in the dream had been adorable, but when he awoke and found it gone, he had felt no particular anguish.
He nodded and simply turned to leave.
Shui Wuchen poured the water out of her wok and suddenly laughed. “With Brother Xue’s looks, goodness knows how many people in the mortal world would go mad for him. I wonder if anyone will ever win his heart. But… it would be better if he never returned their feelings that way. He would attain the Dao and go on his way untroubled, leaving another person in unbearable pain. That would not be so good. What do you think, young friend Ren?”
“Quite right,” Ren Yijue said. “The Jade Beauty is himself a demonic trial.”
He watched Qian Xuelang walk away and felt a jumble of emotions rise within him. Perhaps he had simply grown accustomed to traveling at Qian’s side, but he always felt that it ought to be his role to answer Qian Xuelang’s questions. In truth, anyone could answer them.
Qian Xuelang had come to see the mortal world for himself.
For reasons Ren Yijue could not explain, an empty space seemed to open in his heart, leaving him rather forlorn.
Since only Ren Yijue wanted to try her cooking, Shui Wuchen did not prepare very much. She stir-fried two simple dishes and made a bowl of bitter bamboo-shoot soup to cut through the richness.
Qian Xuelang refused even to approach the table, standing far away in the doorway to bask in the sun. Shui Wuchen had not minded, but seeing him behave so cautiously, she could not resist teasing him. “Brother Xue, if you care so much, how will you ever let go?”
“I am keeping away from what I find distasteful and following my own nature,” Qian Xuelang said. “What does letting go have to do with it?”
Shui Wuchen burst into laughter and turned her hopeful gaze on Ren Yijue. “Our young friend Ren will not let Brother Xue frighten him off, will he?”
“Of course not.”
Holding his bowl and chopsticks, Ren Yijue studied the two dishes giving off black smoke. He fell silent for a moment, then served himself a bowl of bitter bamboo-shoot soup to cleanse his palate. The instant it entered his mouth, a rank, bitter taste seemed to rush straight to the crown of his head.
Without changing his expression, Ren Yijue swallowed the soup and tried a piece of bitter bamboo shoot. Shui Wuchen’s eyes were bright with surprise and anticipation. He picked up his chopsticks, tasted both remaining dishes, and only then put his chopsticks down.
“Well?” Shui Wuchen had never before seen a diner who could keep such an impassive face.
“Hmm…” Ren Yijue considered a moment. “Miss Wuchen, you must come from a land of pestilential miasma. Judging by the flavors, it must be an exceptionally severe one.”
Shui Wuchen laughed heartily. “Yes, yes! Your guess is exactly right. Where could a demon live if not in a land of miasma and disease? Now, can you tell what gives it that fishy flavor?”
Without a change in his expression, Ren Yijue ladled himself another bowl of soup. He suddenly regretted not asking Jiufang Ziming to leave him one of the steamed buns; it would have been perfect with the meal. “That must be how demons like their food.”
Shui Wuchen gazed at him in astonishment, then nodded. “Correct. Would you like some more?”
“No, thank you.” Ren Yijue joked with her in a thoroughly solemn voice. “A small taste is enough. Too much would be bad for my health. I am neither a demon nor someone who lives in a hot, damp place. I could not possibly take it.”
Shui Wuchen smiled and did not press him. She rose to escort both men out. When they reached the doorway, she asked at last, “Brother Xue, I have never asked you. What kind of precious weapon do you keep in that case?”
Qian Xuelang answered frankly, “A sword made to slay demons.”
“It has no name?”
Qian Xuelang’s expression shifted slightly, then quickly returned to normal. “Its forgemaster did not have time to name it. And because it has no sword master yet, it can only remain hidden in the case.”
Shui Wuchen did not question him further. She merely looked him in the eye. “The Heavenly Demon has returned. Brother Xue, please take good care of yourself.”
Before the words had left her lips, the hairpin on her head suddenly cracked and snapped. Her long hair poured down, hiding half her face, as a thin black film gradually spread across her skin, almost like an additional layer of flesh, though much rougher. Even at a glance, its texture resembled coarse sand.
Qian Xuelang had not seen very many half-demons, but neither had he seen too few. He could tell that Shui Wuchen’s appearance marked her as someone with particularly pure demonic blood.
Shui Wuchen’s gaze remained as bright and calm as before. She paused, then smiled again. “Come to think of it, Brother Xue, I have never met you in my true form before. This is the first time. It is rather special, as though I have cast off a whole set of shackles.”
In fact, Qian Xuelang had already seen her true form, sixty-one years ago on the day she was seized at the execution ground.
Back then, Qian Xuelang had watched her quietly, his gaze holding no feeling at all: neither affection nor disgust, not even the slightest curiosity. He stood there in silence for a while. When Shui Wuchen shook her head at him, he left.
His gaze was the same now. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Looking like that, you would not need to apply face powder.”
Shui Wuchen laughed heartily. “Mortal face powder would not work, but I could still paint my brows.”
Qian Xuelang frowned, then quickly understood and said nothing further.
The two men soon turned to leave. Shui Wuchen did not wait for them. Once they had gone out, she went back inside and shut the door again to await White-Jade Skeleton’s choice.
Qian Xuelang asked, without the slightest ripple in his voice, “Are we really going back to find Perilous Rock?”
“Of course we are,” Ren Yijue said. “Would we go back only in pretense? If we do not go searching, how can White-Jade Skeleton make a proper choice? If he really is a demon thrall who has been hiding for years, now that the Heavenly Demon has appeared, he will surely want to seize power and will inevitably clash with Jiufang Ce. If he has a grudge against Shui Wuchen, this would be the ideal chance to kill her, though that possibility is very small.”
Qian Xuelang knew why he called it unlikely. Years ago, the Jiufang clansmen had nearly killed Shui Wuchen. Given White-Jade Skeleton’s meticulous nature, it would not have been difficult to strike while she was weakened and kill both her and her husband.
After all, however capable Jiufang Ce might be, he could not treat his wife’s injuries while simultaneously fending off a powerful enemy.
The fact that White-Jade Skeleton had not come suggested that his desire to kill Shui Wuchen, or even Jiufang Ce, was rather slight.
“Do you believe there are other possibilities?”
“I do not know, but I like to prepare for any eventuality. The matter is still secret. I wonder whether Jiufang Ce is as skilled at dealing with people as he is at studying cultivation techniques, and whether he can run White-Jade Skeleton ragged. Just in case, let us bring Perilous Rock to Daihai. Even if Jiufang Ce cannot identify the culprit, we may be able to force White-Jade Skeleton into making a mistake.”
Qian Xuelang thought for a moment and said slowly, “The Five Eccentrics did kill Taishu Sheng, after all. I fear he will refuse to come.”
“Then it will depend on whether he is more desperate for revenge or more interested in saving his own life.”
After exchanging these few remarks, the pair headed straight for Liuyanzhu. As they flew, Ren Yijue suddenly found himself saying to Qian Xuelang, “Actually, Miss Wuchen’s cooking was not bad at all. One dish reminded me of the raw oysters served at an inn.”
Qian Xuelang considered this, then remembered Ren’s expression at the time. “You mean that raw dish you had no appetite for? And you still say her cooking was good?”
“To make vegetables taste like oyster meat is quite an accomplishment. I do think that takes some skill.”
Qian Xuelang turned his gaze away from the clouds, thoughtful, as though he had understood something. “When it comes to cooking, skill is one thing and whether the food tastes good is another. Everyone’s tastes differ, so naturally the experience of eating differs too. Is that what you mean?”
“I did not mean anything of the sort,” Ren Yijue laughed. “But what the Jade Beauty says is not wrong.”
Something stirred in Ren Yijue’s heart. He suddenly thought of He Tianjun and Wei Wenfeng. He had met the great forgemaster only a few times, and his final memory of him was that half-mad, distraught appearance.
He Tianjun had certainly loved the great forgemaster, just as he had loved the Jade Beauty. But that love had hurt them deeply and tasted terribly bitter. Indeed… for Wei Wenfeng, it could even be called cruel.
If so, what difference was there between love and food? Just because something was made skillfully, did that mean it must taste good?
Sometimes, did people truly want something well made, or did they want something that tasted good?