Chapter 17: Snatching People

The next day, at the foot of Shuiyue Peak.

Lin Lingshu stared longingly at the golden roast chicken in front of her, unable to hold back from urging once again:

“Is it done yet, Junior Brother Wang?”

“Senior Sister, just a little longer.”

“Alright…”

Lin Lingshu kept her eyes fixed on the roast chicken, not noticing that Wang Shuheng’s attention wasn’t really on the grilling—it kept drifting toward her instead.

“Junior Brother Wang!”

“What is it, Senior Sister?”

“Don’t get distracted! Turn it, or the chicken will burn!”

“Mm.”

Wang Shuheng obediently turned the chicken on the spit.

A stick of incense later, he pulled the long knife skewer out of the fire and handed the roast chicken to Lin Lingshu.

She took it, frowned slightly at the charred side, then tore off a drumstick and handed it back to Wang Shuheng.

“Here, Junior Brother.”

“No need, Senior Sister. I’m not hungry.”

“Who cares if you’re hungry? You burned this piece—you eat it. Come on, take it.”

Before he could refuse, Lin Lingshu shoved the charred drumstick into his hand.

Then she tore off the other perfectly roasted drumstick for herself, took a big bite, and let out a satisfied sigh.

Truthfully, Lin Lingshu wasn’t exactly a hardcore carnivore. It was just that this world was too damned depressing—only Fasting Pills for sustenance. After reaching the Golden Core stage, cultivators could even live by directly absorbing heaven and earth spiritual energy, not even needing pills. But either way, it all tasted like nothing.

Compared to that, even the shaky-handed cafeteria auntie from her past life’s canteen—who once dumped a ladle full of Sichuan peppercorns with barely any meat, charging 8.8 yuan for what felt like 4.8 yuan worth of food—felt like heaven. At least there was flavor. These Fasting Pills were utterly tasteless.

Finishing her drumstick, Lin Lingshu tossed the bone to the ground. Just then, a hand appeared in front of her mouth, holding another drumstick—this one neatly peeled of the burnt bits.

Wang Shuheng gently shook the drumstick near her lips.

“Senior Sister, here.”

Lin Lingshu stared at it, the rich aroma making her mouth water. She wanted it badly but felt awkward about contradicting what she had just said earlier. She shook her head stubbornly.

Seeing her conflicted expression, amusement flickered in Wang Shuheng’s eyes. He made as if to pull the drumstick back.

Lin Lingshu quickly grabbed his hand. “Well, Junior Brother, since you already insisted, then I won’t be polite.” With a swift motion, she snatched the drumstick from his hand.

In Wang Shuheng’s mind, one thought echoed: Senior Sister’s hand… so pale, so small, so soft.

Meanwhile, Lin Lingshu happily devoured the drumstick.

She noticed him dazing out and waved her hand in front of his eyes. He blinked back to reality.

“Junior Brother Wang, what were you just thinking?”

“Nothing, just… some insights into cultivation recently,” he replied calmly, silently chanting a Heart-Clearing Mantra in his mind.

“Junior Brother, your roasting is really delicious. Who taught you?”

“Before I entered the sect, I learned from my father.” He smiled. “If Senior Sister likes it, I can make it for you every day.”

His tone and expression were natural, but when the words reached Lin Lingshu’s ears, they sounded… odd. She quickly changed the subject.

“Junior Brother, have you thought about the matter of transferring peaks?”

“Senior Sister, I think Shuiyue Peak is just fine.”

…Yeah. Lin Lingshu knew his answer already.

Meanwhile, in the Lingjian Pavilion’s main hall, three Nascent Soul cultivators gathered. Yet even they sat only in the side seats, for the head seat was occupied by the sect’s supreme elder—Ancestor Zijian. He turned to Danlü Zhenren.

“Danlü, speak.”

Danlü Zhenren said nothing at first. He took out a small jade bottle, poured out two pills, and carefully passed them along. They were ordinary Gathering Qi Pills.

Fairy Shuiyue received one, examined it with her spiritual sense, and said with surprise: “Triple-grained, no wax coating, qi perfectly pure… this is an Ultimate-Grade Pill!”

Daoist Wangjian also nodded in agreement.

Danlü Zhenren finally spoke: “The Dao of Alchemy lies in observing flame colors, mastering heat. In selecting herbs, memorizing countless medicinal texts, knowing their properties by heart… Opening the sense of smell to detect changes in a pill’s fragrance during refinement. Opening the sense of taste to detect flaws in medicinal balance, adjusting as needed…”

“A good pill begins from the very herbs chosen. One must taste them to gauge potency, measure dosage precisely, for even the best refinement will fail if the proportions are wrong. Choosing the right season, the right place, even the right cauldron, each detail matters. Before starting, the furnace must be warmed, consecrated… even the water and fire used must be carefully chosen.”

Daoist Dandao held the pill, nodding in admiration: “To judge a pill’s quality, one must first observe its color. High-grade pills are pure, balanced, and unsullied. Too light a fire, and the color will be pale; too strong, and scorch marks will appear. Yet this pill’s hue is flawless—utterly pure, without a trace of impurity.”

“This, too, is an Ultimate-Grade Pill!”

Danlü Zhenren continued: “And Shuiyue Peak has a disciple who, relying only on a single alchemy text, has already refined several such ultimate-grade pills. He is an unprecedented genius in the Dao of Alchemy. That is why I am here today.”

He turned to Fairy Shuiyue.

“Who is this disciple of my Shuiyue Peak?” she asked.

“The one who placed first in the recent Alchemy Competition—Wang Shuheng.”

“His alchemy talent is peerless. I request, Fairy Shuiyue, that you yield him to my Danlü Peak.”

Fairy Shuiyue sneered. “Ridiculous. He is of my Shuiyue Peak. In only two years, his cultivation has already reached the seventh layer of Qi Refining. I am even considering taking him as my personal disciple.”

“You cultivate the Dao of Water, while this disciple cultivates Fire. Keeping him will only ruin his path.”

“Enough,” Ancestor Zijian interrupted as the two argued. “This matter will be decided by the disciple himself.”

“…Fine.”

“…Agreed.”

Daoist Wangjian, uninvolved, remained silent.

Ancestor Zijian waved his hand, dismissing the council.

“Junior Brother Wang, is the chicken done yet?”

“Senior Sister, just a little longer.”

“Alright…” Lin Lingshu pouted at the second roasting chicken, golden and fragrant.

Wang Shuheng looked at her cute expression, his hands itching to pull her into his arms and ruffle her hair. But he restrained himself.

He rotated the spit carefully, ensuring the chicken cooked evenly. Lin Lingshu sat nearby, nagging every so often.

“Why isn’t it done yet?”

“So slow!”

“I think it’s already fine to eat like this.”

Just then, a pillar of light descended from the sky, enveloping Wang Shuheng. In the blink of an eye, both he and the light vanished.

Only a dumbfounded Lin Lingshu remained… along with the half-cooked chicken skewered on the long knife.