Stepping out pleasantly warm after a hot bath, taking a few sips of sweet wine, tearing off pieces of lightly charred roasted whole rabbit, and stuffing tender, fragrant braised pork—seventy percent fat, thirty percent lean, slow-simmered until melt-in-the-mouth soft—into plump white steamed buns of fine flour, one could eat until grease ran down both lips.
Dong Rui was truly starved, wolfing down a meat-stuffed bun in two or three bites before reaching for pickled vegetables and crunchy melons to cut through the richness and whet his appetite, crunching them down one after another.
He sighed toward the ceiling as he ate. "Now this is living!"
The months of hardship before had been mere survival.
Zhu Daniang had no fondness for human food, considering it far too overprocessed. She preferred true, natural flavor.
Keep it simple, simpler still: eat it raw.
She said to the two men, "That seventy-year cicada this afternoon didn't taste right."
Dong Rui was gnawing on his third bun, his words muffled around a mouthful of food. "It was a mutant variety; of course the taste was off."
"The deliciousness of a seventy-year cicada is second to none among insects. In ancient times, we never missed the lavish feast that came once every seventeen years." Zhu Daniang was drinking wine. She had to slow her pace, or she would drain an entire jar in a few breaths. "How do you humans put it? The flavor of time."
Fresh umami brewed over seventy years.
He Lingchuan nodded. "Right, right."
He also liked eating cicadas, whether roasted or baked.
"But the seventy-year cicada we ran into this evening was downright disgusting."
He Lingchuan glanced sideways at her. Spiders were creatures that specifically sucked pus and liquefied fluids; if even she found it disgusting, what on earth had it tasted like?
"We're eating here," Dong Rui complained, waving a rabbit leg. "Don't talk about that."
He Lingchuan gave him a look. Why act so delicate? What disgusting thing had this guy not fiddled with during his experiments? He had even seen Dong Rui eat right after an experiment without washing his hands.
Still, He Lingchuan changed the subject. "Why is your ghost ape here?"
The ghost ape was eating off to the side, enjoying fruit and pumpkin alongside its meat.
Dong Rui glanced at it. "After you injured it last time, I didn't take it to the Han River front. Instead, I left it in a mountain village to heal. I thought I'd return in a month or so, but who knew I'd be gone for more than half a year?" As he said this, he could not help feeling a pang of sorrow. If not for He Lingchuan, this jinx, why would he have been forced to wander for so long?
"In the end, this fellow couldn't bear the loneliness and slipped away on its own, intending to wait for me at home. It ran into all sorts of trouble in Wange Marsh, which was how Dao Quan's subordinates ended up bringing it back..."
Before he could finish, He Lingchuan cut in, "Wange Marsh?"
Could it really be such a coincidence?
Was it the very Wange Marsh where he had asked Li Qingge to send people with the Dragon-Torture Pillar?
"Is there a Wange Forest right next to it?"
Dong Rui suspected nothing and replied, "Yes, within the borders of the Ju Kingdom. You know of it?"
"Not long after I arrived in Lingxu, I heard strange things were happening in Wange Marsh and that quite a few people died." That was precisely why he had sent the Dragon-Torture Pillar there, so the people dispatched by the Heavenly Palace would have phenomena and intelligence to investigate. He had also given them something to keep them busy.
He then asked Dong Rui, "Your home is in Wange Marsh?"
Dong Rui's lips twitched, unwilling to answer. Getting tangled up with He Lingchuan was never a good thing.
He Lingchuan nudged him with an elbow. "We're grasshoppers tied to the same string now."
Dong Rui simply changed the subject. "Aren't you heading back to the Yuan Kingdom? Why take a detour to Mount Rong?"
Once they left Beijia territory, heading southwest would lead straight to the Yuan Kingdom. Yet this fellow had insisted on making a turn, claiming he needed to find some people first.
He Lingchuan snatched a few berries from the ghost ape, ignoring its furious glare. "I can't just go back like that."
"What, do you want to drag a huge entourage along with gongs and drums?" Dong Rui asked in confusion. "What would happen if you just went straight back?"
He Lingchuan pondered for a moment. "I'd probably meet an untimely, miserable end."
His casual tone left Dong Rui thoroughly baffled.
This kid had navigated the endless perils of Lingxu City with room to spare, yet returning to his homeland would lead to a miserable end?
"Then why go back at all?"
"Some things must be brought to light," He Lingchuan said calmly. "Otherwise, I won't be able to eat or sleep in peace."
When he stood trial in the Heavenly Palace, the gods had revealed that the master of the imprint in his mind was Nailuotian.
Not merely a celestial god, but an orthodox god of boundless divine power!
Since arriving in this world, aside from Mitian, he had never dealt with any other celestial god. Therefore, this mark must have been planted during his original self's time.
And his original self had always been kept on a tight leash by his father.
In other words, the mark of Nailuotian in his sea of consciousness was ninety percent certain to be tied to He Chunhua.
What good intentions could a celestial god possibly have in planting a mark inside a mortal's mind? Ever since witnessing Lu Shishi's tragic end after Baizhantian's divine descent, He Lingchuan had felt a lingering dread.
When would this mark be activated?
If he did not want to follow in Lu Shishi's footsteps, he had to eliminate this enormous hidden threat!
Since both a celestial god and He Chunhua might harbor ill intentions toward him, he could not simply swagger back empty-handed and foolishly unprepared.
"Borrowing men from the Mount Rong Sect is actually a good idea," Zhu Daniang remarked. "A Daoist order always sends its disciples down the mountain every few years."
The Mount Rong Sect was a rather pure Daoist order.
By "pure," it matched He Lingchuan's past imagination of an "immortal sect"—perched among mist-veiled peaks, with disciples practicing diligently, far removed from the smoke and clamor of mortal life.
In contrast, a Daoist order like Songyang Mansion was too deeply embedded in the secular world; after all, Li Qingge herself held a noble title.
Mount Rong belonged to no country. It possessed its own territory and borders, along with the respect of neighboring states. Whenever disciples completed their studies, they had to descend the mountain into the mortal world to temper themselves amid the secular dust.
This was a very traditional custom, inherited directly from the immortal sects that preceded the Daoist orders. The difference was that in ancient times, disciples of immortal sects rode flying swords down the mountain to slay demons, purge evil, or establish their own cave abodes, leading free and exhilarating lives in the mortal realm. Nowadays, before descending, they had to consider which faction to join, whether it had good prospects, and even the exact size of their stipends.
Back when He Chunhua first assumed his new post, the local Daoist order of Xiazhou, Chuanyun Pavilion, immediately sent Elder Liang to his doorstep to recommend their disciples to the newly appointed Chief Administrator of Xiazhou.
To put it plainly, practitioners needed to find jobs.
Mount Rong Sect's renown far surpassed that of Chuanyun Pavilion, and many of its disciples served as generals and officials across various nations. Among the officials He Lingchuan had dealt with in Lingxu City and at Baishaqu in the Chiyan Kingdom, there were disciples from the Mount Rong Sect.
With a steady stream of talent emerging from its ranks, the order naturally enjoyed elevated prestige.
By contrast, the Yuan Kingdom was mired in internal strife and waning by the day; Mount Rong Sect did not even deign to treat it as an equal.
That was why Zhu Daniang said He Lingchuan had come to the right place. Disciples of Mount Rong would have to descend the mountain and sell themselves sooner or later—no, enter official service. For Sect Master Xue to assign a few prized disciples to follow He Lingchuan was a natural match where everyone got what they wanted.
Moreover, He Lingchuan had arrived carrying Fang Canran's token of trust. The personnel Mount Rong selected for him would have to be chosen from the cream of the crop, with no room for slight or neglect.
Chapter 751