The dawn at Nine Heavens Sect always rose with the first wisp of violet qi.
For ambitious disciples, this was the golden hour for gathering qi and cultivation.
But for Lin Yue, it was merely the start of his “professional killer” career—killing chickens in the kitchen.
Old Niu had specially reserved a private room for Lin Yue today, grandly calling it “quiet, suitable for sword comprehension.”
In reality, it was because he was afraid the commotion from Lin Yue swinging that black iron pillar would scare the other kitchen helpers.
Clang!
The heavy black iron sword landed heavily on the massive redwood chopping block with a dull thud.
Lin Yue held a specially made kitchen knife, using the recoil force from the heavy sword to swiftly slice potatoes into shreds.
Each cut produced shreds as thin as a cicada’s wing, as uniform as if measured with a ruler.
‘The essence of the Netherworld Breath-Concealing Art isn’t in “concealing,” but in “evenness.”‘
Lin Yue silently summarized in his heart.
This secret technique, which he had dismissed as trashy beginner’s stuff in his past life, now applied to chopping vegetables, unexpectedly gave him a sense of control he had never experienced before.
Spiritual power was no longer a raging torrent, but a trickling stream flowing through his fingertips, precisely controlling the thickness of every potato shred.
The ledger in his sea of consciousness let out an extremely gratified groan: “Not bad, not bad. Although in your past life you used stars to refine pills, and now you’re using firewood to stir-fry, this shift in mindset is the hardest currency for repaying your debt. Keep it up, young man, you’re one step closer to ‘Culinary God Demon Emperor.'”
“Just shut up,” Lin Yue rolled his eyes, his kitchen knife flying, leaving behind a blur of afterimages.
Just then, the kitchen’s creaky wooden door was pushed open a crack.
A little head tied with pigtails poked in, sniffed vigorously, then her eyes lit up, and she slipped in like a nimble kitten.
“Senior Brother Lin, it smells so good!”
An Xiaoxiao had changed into a light yellow outer sect long skirt today, tied at the waist with an emerald green silk ribbon, making her waist look so slender it seemed one could wrap a hand around it.
She wasn’t carrying a shovel or a basket, but was holding a clean, washed white porcelain bowl.
Lin Yue didn’t turn around, his knife skills steady as an old dog: “It’s not mealtime yet. Old Niu is cooking porridge up front. Go line up there.”
“I won’t.” An Xiaoxiao walked over to Lin Yue’s side, not minding the greasy smoke smell at all.
Instead, she tiptoed, curiously staring at the kitchen knife in Lin Yue’s hand.
“The porridge up front is so thin you can see your reflection. It’s nowhere near as fragrant as Senior Brother’s ‘private dishes’ here. Senior Brother, I’m hungry. My heart meridian is so hungry it’s about to stop beating.”
She deliberately said the words “heart meridian” very softly and even rubbed her chest for good measure, putting on a rogueish look that said, “If you don’t feed me, I’ll blow up on you.”
Lin Yue sighed.
He knew reasoning with this little demoness was useless.
He deftly heated the wok with oil and tossed in the potato shreds he had just cut along with some marinated spirit chicken shreds.
Under the firelight, Lin Yue’s profile looked exceptionally focused.
That steady aura actually made An Xiaoxiao, who was staring at him from the side, momentarily lose her composure.
In Nine Heavens Sect, men were either arrogant and overbearing like Zhao Hu or pretentiously aloof like Zhou Yun.
There had never been a man like Lin Yue, who could perform a mundane task like “killing chickens and chopping vegetables” with such a… master’s demeanor?
Sizzle….
Blue smoke rose, and a rich aroma of meat instantly erupted.
Lin Yue scooped out a ladle of his secret sauce, tossed the wok, stir-fried, and plated the dish—all in one smooth motion.
“Here.”
Lin Yue shoved the plate of fragrant and appetizing chicken stir-fried with potato shreds into An Xiaoxiao’s arms.
An Xiaoxiao eagerly filled her porcelain bowl to the brim.
Without caring about her image, she squatted directly on a low stool by the stove and began eating in big mouthfuls.
Watching her stuffed cheeks, the softest corner of Lin Yue’s heart suddenly stirred.
This little demoness was like a slaughtering Asura when killing, but when eating, she was like a child who hadn’t grown up.
If not for those damnable demonic arts and secrets, perhaps she really would just be an outer sect junior sister who loved chicken legs.
“Eat slowly. No one’s fighting you for it.”
Lin Yue casually poured a cup of warm spirit tea and handed it over.
An Xiaoxiao took the teacup, gulped down a big mouthful, and said somewhat indistinctly, “Senior Brother, you’re so good. If I could eat your cooking every day, I really wouldn’t turn you into flower fertilizer.”
“Well, I’m truly grateful for that,” Lin Yue said irritably, flicking one of her pigtails.
Just then, the Karmic Debt Ledger in his sea of consciousness suddenly emitted that familiar, heart-pounding vibration.
[Ding! Random task triggered: Warm Feeding.]
[Task Content: Target character An Xiaoxiao is currently in a period of rising ‘happiness value from satiety.’ Please personally tear off a chicken leg and feed it into her mouth, while delivering the line—’Eat more. Look how thin you are, there’s no meat on you.’ Note: Your gaze must be gentle, with the paternal affection of an old father, yet also the bashfulness of a young man.]
[Task Reward: Unlock the first layer of force penetration for ‘Heavy Sword, No Edge.’ Failure Penalty: For rejecting heaven’s way of romance, An Xiaoxiao will blame you in one minute for ‘eating too much’ and detonate the Heart-Linking Talisman.]
Lin Yue: “…”
Damned ledger!
I’m here killing chickens, and you’re getting spring fever?
Paternal affection?
Bashfulness?
Do you want me to perform Sichuan opera face-changing?
But looking at An Xiaoxiao’s sparkling eyes, which were fixed on the remaining half of the roasted chicken in the pot, and thinking about that heart meridian that could explode at any moment, he knew this “sugar” had to be delivered, whether he wanted to or not.
Lin Yue took a deep breath and fished out the spirit chicken leg he had specifically saved for himself from the pot.
The chicken leg was golden and crispy, still dripping with glistening oil.
He walked over to An Xiaoxiao.
An Xiaoxiao was stunned for a moment, a potato shred still dangling from her mouth, looking up at him somewhat bewildered.
Lin Yue imitated the actions from those cheesy romance dramas of his past life.
He bent slightly, his slender fingers pinching the tip of the chicken leg bone, and slowly brought it to An Xiaoxiao’s lips.
He tried hard to force out a gentle expression that made him want to vomit, his tone as stiff as if he were reciting from a book: “Eat more… look how thin you are, there’s no meat on you.”
After speaking, following the task requirement, he forcibly made his old face turn red (actually red from holding his breath).
An Xiaoxiao’s eyes instantly widened.
She looked at the chicken leg before her, then at Lin Yue’s “affectionate” face.
The bowl in her hand almost fell to the ground.
Time seemed to freeze in that moment.
The firewood in the kitchen crackled and popped.
The air was filled with the smell of cooking oil and an inexplicably sickly-sweet smell.
“Senior Brother, you… you didn’t poison the chicken leg, did you?”
An Xiaoxiao muttered softly.
But her body was honest.
Her little head leaned forward, and with an “ah-umm,” she took a fierce bite of the plump chicken leg meat.
Lin Yue didn’t let go, just kept holding it up.