Quick Wear: The paranoid beauty grabs the waist and spoils her

The days at Zizhu Peak flowed by at a rhythm that was both extremely fast and extremely slow, amid the rustling sound of purple marrow bamboo and the swirling spiritual mist.

When Yin Nanxiang obtained the "Xuanyuan Heart Sutra", he was like the most devout believer who had obtained the supreme classic. He immediately devoted himself to meditation and practice without sleep or food.

She found a flat bluestone outside her bamboo garden by the stream. Surrounded by purple bamboos, it was quiet and secluded, and it became her regular place for practice.

The exquisiteness of the "Xuanyuan Heart Sutra" far exceeded her imagination.

It is not simply a method of absorbing spiritual energy, but more importantly, it focuses on tempering the spiritual consciousness and condensing the quality of spiritual essence. The control requirements for spiritual power are almost harsh.

When the mental method was running, the dual spiritual roots of ice and thunder in her body seemed to be given a whole new life. They were no longer simple cold and thunder, but turned into deeper and more controllable ice crystal runes and undercurrents of lightning patterns, circulating in her meridians according to mysterious paths. Each cycle brought a slight pain and a sense of comfort that cleansed her bones and marrow.

She was completely immersed in it, ignoring the passage of time, ignoring the fatigue of her body, and naturally ignoring... the powerful spiritual consciousness belonging to her master that was always lingering over the entire Zizhu Peak.

Inside Liuyun Palace, Jiang Ruochen still had his signature lazy attitude.

He would lie on a soft couch or lean against a bamboo branch, playing with a jade or holding a book in his hand, occasionally taking a sip of spiritual tea, looking so relaxed that he could grow hair.

However, only he himself knew that his spiritual consciousness was like an invisible and dense net, quietly covering every inch of land on the top of the mountain.

Especially the area beside the Bamboo Garden Creek where the little disciple was, was the area he "inadvertently" focused his attention on.

He could "see" the corners of her lips tightly pursed when she frowned in thought, "hear" the subtle humming of her spiritual power as it circulated, and "sense" the sudden brightness and then rapid retreat of her spiritual light every time she broke through a small bottleneck in her mental skills.

When the spiritual power in Yin Nanxiang's body rushed to a critical point, ice-blue and silver-purple light flashed from her body surface, and her aura suddenly climbed and stabilized at a new height in one fell swoop - the great perfection of the Qi training stage!

Jiang Ruochen was casually turning a page of a book when his fingertips paused slightly, almost imperceptibly.

A very faint and quick smile flashed across the depths of those lazy phoenix eyes, like a speck of dust thrown into an ancient well, rippling lightly and then disappearing quietly.

Even he himself did not notice that the corner of his lips had twitched upwards very slightly at that moment.

He still didn't understand why he was paying so much "secret" attention.

I just feel that, looking at this little guy rushing forward with all his heart, stumbling but stubbornly refusing to admit defeat, the thousand-year-old silence of Zizhu Peak seems... to have a different kind of vitality?

Time slipped quietly past noon.

Sunlight shines through the gaps between the purple bamboos, casting mottled light and shadows.

Yin Nanxiang, immersed in cultivation, had long forgotten the time and even the hunger in his stomach.

Practitioners need to establish a foundation before they can completely fast. Now that she has perfected her Qi training, she still needs the nourishment of worldly life.

Jiang Ruochen in Liuyun Palace frowned slightly.

His spiritual sense could see clearly that although the spiritual power in his disciple's Dantian was full, his blood and qi were slightly churning because he had not eaten for a long time.

This kind of madness is very similar to that of the past... A complex reminiscence flashed in his eyes, and then it was replaced by an almost instinctive pursuit of "quality of life".

How can you practice on an empty stomach like this?

Wouldn't it make him seem like a derelict in his duty as a master?

A cool and lazy voice, like a breeze carrying the fragrance of bamboo leaves, accurately reached Yin Nanxiang's ears, interrupting the end of her Zhou Tian circulation:

"It's past noon. The way of cultivation requires a balance between relaxation and tension."

Yin Nanxiang suddenly came back to his senses from the mysterious world of mind and opened his eyes with his long eyelashes trembling slightly.

The midday sun was a bit dazzling, and she squinted her eyes subconsciously. Only then did she realize that she was feeling a strong sense of hunger.

She looked in the direction of the sound and saw a figure appearing at the top of the purple bamboo not far away.

Jiang Ruochen was still wearing the flowing silver-purple robe, his black hair fluttering in the wind. He was leaning there lazily, looking down at her.

The sunlight cast a hazy halo around him, so handsome that it seemed unreal.

"Master."

Nan Xiang quickly stood up and saluted respectfully.

She was not dissatisfied with her cultivation being interrupted. Instead, she realized her negligence due to Master's reminder.

"I was so immersed in it that I forgot the time."

She paused and asked naturally:

"Where is the Xuantian Sect's dining hall? I'll go there now."

In her opinion, the master had been fasting for thousands of years and had an immortal appearance, so he must not be affected by worldly affairs.

There are only two of them in the huge Zizhu Peak, so it is normal for them to take care of their own meals.

However, just as she finished her words, she saw Jiang Ruochen on the bamboo shoot frowning almost imperceptibly.

The frown was very light, but it carried an obvious, almost picky look of disdain.

Nan Xiang was slightly startled, thinking that her master disliked her wasting time in the cafeteria, so she immediately added:

"Or...disciple can take the fasting pill."

She remembered that among the supplies distributed upon entry, there were several bottles of fasting pills.

Unexpectedly, when Jiang Ruochen heard the word "Bigu Pill", his brows furrowed even deeper, and the disgust in his eyes almost turned into substance and flowed out.

Bigu Pill?

The kind of elixir that is only for filling the stomach, has no taste, and has no spiritual nourishment?

In Jiang Ruochen's territory, his disciple eats that kind of stuff?

It's simply an insult to his "aesthetics of life"!

He finally spoke, his voice still with that lazy tone, but revealing an unquestionable determination:

"The food in the dining hall is cooked roughly, and the spiritual ingredients are not processed properly. The taste is mediocre, and the spiritual essence is also lost."

"Bigu Pills? That's even worse."

He floated down from the bamboo shoot, and with his sleeves fluttering, he was standing in front of Nan Xiang. He stood tall and straight, bringing with him a faint cool fragrance of bamboo leaves.

He lowered his eyes to look at the still somewhat confused little disciple in front of him, and spoke in a natural tone as if saying that the weather was nice today:

"That's all."

"Today, I will cook for you."

"……what?"

Yin Nanxiang was completely stunned, and for the first time, an almost dull expression appeared on his cold face.

Did she... hear it right?

Cooking?

Master?

Your Excellency Su Yun?

Jiang Ruochen?

No matter how these words are combined, there is a strong sense of incongruity.

In her imagination, her master's hands should be holding a magic sword, making gestures to cast spells, playing the piano and playing chess, and she could never associate them with pots and pans, or smoke from the stove.

She stared blankly at Jiang Ruochen's handsome face that was as handsome as a god, and was full of "cold and aloof" and "high-end enjoyment". Her brain was rarely able to think straight.

Jiang Ruochen ignored his disciple's shock.

As if he had just made an ordinary decision, he turned around and walked towards a side hall next to the bamboo garden that Nan Xiang had never noticed before and was cleverly hidden by purple bamboo.

"Follow."

A faint voice came, and Nan Xiang finally woke up as if from a dream. She quickly suppressed the waves of shock in her heart, and followed quickly with full of disbelief and a hint of strange curiosity.

Pushing open the door of the side hall, Nan Xiang was stunned again.

The hall was not like the smoky kitchen one had imagined, but rather it was unusually clean and elegant.

However, everything that was necessary was available: a clean stove made of spiritual jade, on which were placed cooking utensils of unknown grade but clearly of extraordinary origin; next to it stood a few jade cabinets emitting a faint chill, which were obviously used to preserve spiritual materials; there was even a small pool that drained the spiritual spring at the top of the peak.

Jiang Ruochen walked to the jade cupboard and skillfully took out several spiritual ingredients - white spiritual rice, tender vegetables, and a piece of beast meat with delicate texture and pure energy.

He rolled up his wide silver-purple cuffs, revealing a cold, white, and strong forearm.

There is no trace of artificiality in the movements, but rather they flow smoothly with a peculiar sense of rhythm, as if they are not preparing ingredients but performing some kind of elegant artistic creation.

Nan Xiang stood at the door, watching her master, known as "a salted fish letting itself rot," skillfully wash rice, vegetables, and cut meat with a cool, abstinent, and ethereal demeanor...

Every movement is precise and beautiful, and is strangely harmonious with the kitchen.

She finally realized belatedly that her master might really be able to cook.

Moreover, judging from the situation, the level might be... quite good?

In the afternoon at Zizhu Peak, no smoke rose from the kitchen because they were using a spiritual fire stove.

But an unprecedented undercurrent with a warm and worldly atmosphere quietly spread in this cold and tranquil fairyland.

It has been more than three months since she left home. In this Xuantian Sect, in this small kitchen on Zizhu Peak, Nan Xiang suddenly felt safe and warm, as if she had a sense of home.