The True Fragrance Law of the Instant Noodle Sage

"Creak—"

The old anti-theft door let out a groan of being overloaded as Lin Fan pushed it open with force. A scent mixed with faint mold and the fresh fragrance of laundry detergent wafted towards him. This was his only refuge in the city, a cramped space less than ten square meters, yet it held all his exhaustion and peace.

He practically half-dragged, half-carried the ancient-looking man who called himself "This One" inside. He quickly closed and locked the door behind him, then let out a long sigh, feeling as if all his strength had been drained.

He carefully placed the man on the single bed, which doubled as a sofa and a pile of clutter, then slumped onto the only plastic chair beside it, gasping for air.

"Hoo... finally... arrived," he wiped nonexistent sweat from his forehead, his heart more than his body being tired.

Only a dim bedside lamp was on in the room, casting a hazy glow over the small space. Now, he finally had a chance to get a good look at the uninvited guest he had "picked up."

The other man sat propped against his bed. Even in his current disheveled and weak state, his back remained ramrod straight, as if it wasn't a cheap single bed piled with laundry, but some celestial throne from the Nine Heavens. He kept his eyes half-closed, his long lashes cast down. His face appeared even paler in the dim light, but the innate aura of looking down on all beings hadn't diminished in the slightest. Instead, the contrast with the cramped, confined space made it even more striking and... oppressive.

He seemed to be silently regulating his breathing, or rather, attempting to sense this environment completely foreign to him. His brow furrowed slightly, as if extremely displeased with the almost negligible "energy" in the air (if any existed).

Lin Fan watched him, the sense of absurdity welling up in his heart again. Had he really brought a guy in ancient attire, who spoke so formally and called himself "This One," home? If his gossipy colleagues at work found out, they'd laugh their heads off.

"Uh... buddy," Lin Fan cleared his throat, trying to break the suffocating silence, "I still don't know your name?"

The man on the bed slowly opened his eyes. Those deep pupils, in the dim yellow light, seemed to hold swirling vortexes capable of sucking in one's soul. He glanced at Lin Fan, his tone flat and unwavering, yet carrying a declarative effect:

"I am Tong Tian."

"Tong Tian?" Lin Fan blinked, instinctively searching his mind for any famous names, celebrities, or internet personalities. He found nothing. The name sounded quite imposing, if a bit chuunibyo. "Oh, Tong Tian... brother. My name is Lin Fan, Shuang Mu Lin, Ping Fan De Fan."

He paused, then added, "This is my home, um... it's a humble abode, please make do." He gestured around the room. "That's the bathroom, the place for... relieving yourself and bathing. Do you want to clean up first?"

The man who called himself "Tong Tian"—or rather, the leader of the Intercepting Sect, Sage Tong Tian, who had just experienced the shattering of the Primordial Era, the change of the Heavenly Dao, was forced to transmigrate here, his world-shattering cultivation suppressed to less than a tenth, and was currently in a state of extreme weakness and cognitive confusion—heard this and his gaze followed Lin Fan's gesture to the closed small door.

Although his divine sense was hindered, his basic perception remained. He could "hear" the faint gurgling sound of water flowing through pipes from behind the door, and he could vaguely sense the moisture and some... he couldn't understand, mixed chemical scents pervading that small space.

This was vastly different from the experience of immortal families in the Primordial Era drawing water from the Nine Heavens' Milky Way or bathing in spiritual springs. It carried a trace of artificiality, of roughness.

He nodded slightly, saying nothing more, and attempted to stand up on his own. However, the toll of crossing the barriers of time and space far exceeded his estimation, and the repulsion from this "spiritually barren land" was omnipresent for a being like him. As soon as he stood up, his vision went black, and a strong wave of dizziness washed over him, his body swaying uncontrollably.

Lin Fan reacted quickly, stepping forward to support him. "Hey, careful!"

Tong Tian's arm stiffened again, but this time, he didn't immediately push Lin Fan away. The weakness from the depths of his soul forced him to rely on this mortal, who seemed as fragile as an ant in his eyes, for the moment. This realization stirred a trace of humiliation in his heart, but more so, a cautiousness in the face of an unknown predicament.

He allowed Lin Fan to help him walk towards the small compartment called the "bathroom."

Lin Fan opened the bathroom door and turned on the energy-saving light inside. The stark white light instantly illuminated the even smaller space—a toilet, a sink, a showerhead, and various cheap plastic toiletries.

Tong Tian stood at the doorway, his gaze sweeping over every item with an almost academic scrutiny.

His eyes first fell on the white ceramic toilet, his brow twitching almost imperceptibly. This object was strangely shaped, containing clear water; it was like a vessel, yet not a vessel, what was its purpose?

Next, his attention was drawn to the silver showerhead hanging on the wall. Its metallic texture, along with the connected hose, also exceeded his understanding.

Finally, his gaze settled beside the sink, on Lin Fan's toothbrush stuck in a worn-out cup. The bristles were askew, looking... quite shabby.

Lin Fan watched him stand there, his eyes deep, his expression unreadable, as if contemplating some supreme Dao, and he couldn't help but feel a little unnerved. He tentatively pointed to the toilet. "This is a toilet, for using the restroom." He then pointed to the showerhead. "That's a shower; water comes out when you turn on the switch; you can bathe." Lastly, he picked up the toothbrush. "This is a toothbrush, for brushing teeth, to keep your mouth clean."

He tried to explain in simple, direct language, feeling like a kindergarten teacher.

Tong Tian listened without any reaction, simply stepping inside. His movements were still somewhat unsteady, but his demeanor was as composed as if he were inspecting his own Biyou Palace.

He stood before the toilet, silent for a few seconds, then reached out as if to touch the smooth ceramic surface, but stopped just before his fingertips made contact. He then turned his attention to the roll of toilet paper next to the toilet, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes again.

Lin Fan watched nervously, afraid the esteemed guest would next ask something like "What is this silk used for?" that he couldn't answer.

Fortunately, Tong Tian didn't ask. It seemed that through his own powerful reasoning abilities (or something else), he had a general understanding of the uses of these items, even if his understanding might deviate somewhat from that of a modern person. He then shifted his attention to the sink.

Mimicking Lin Fan's earlier action of turning on the faucet, he reached out and twisted the silver knob.

"Splash—"

A stream of clear water gushed out of the faucet instantly, splashing onto the white ceramic basin with a crisp sound.

Tong Tian was clearly startled by the "out of nowhere" stream of water. Although his expression remained unchanged, Lin Fan caught a fleeting glint of surprise in his eyes. He reached out and cupped his hands, catching some water.

The water was cold. It carried a faint scent of disinfectant.

For Tong Tian, the leader of the Intercepting Sect, who was accustomed to drinking ambrosia and bathing in spiritual springs, this was no different from... sewage.

He frowned, shook his hand, and turned off the faucet. His movements were slightly clumsy, but his learning ability was astonishing.

"This water... is turbid and unfit," he declared, his tone showing undisguised disdain.

Lin Fan: "...That's tap water. You have to boil it before drinking. The bathwater can be heated by the water heater over there." He pointed to the small box on the wall.

Tong Tian glanced in the direction Lin Fan indicated, then said nothing more. He seemed to have temporarily lost interest in "bathing," perhaps feeling that bathing with such "turbid water" would be an insult to his sacred body. He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the small space again, finally settling on the mirror.

The mirror reflected a pale, tired, yet still incomparably handsome face, and those deep, abyss-like eyes, which now held a hint of ineffable confusion.

He gazed quietly at his reflection, as if looking at a stranger. After hundreds of millions of years in the Primordial Era, a supreme Sage, who would have thought he would end up in such a predicament? Stripped of all his magic, stranded in another world, taking refuge in the... hovel of a mortal ant?

An unprecedented feeling, named "misfortune," quietly welled up in his heart. Though extremely faint, it was real.

Lin Fan watched him lost in thought in front of the mirror, feeling a bit uneasy himself. Although this person was eccentric and proud, at this moment, he truly looked like a lost wanderer with no home.

"Uh... Brother Tong Tian, just look around and get familiar with things. I'll... go get some food." Lin Fan felt it was more practical to address the issue of sustenance first. He himself was starving.

Tong Tian withdrew his gaze from the mirror and gave a faint "En" in response.

Lin Fan exited the bathroom and gently closed the door, only then feeling his breathing become smoother. Being around this "ancestor" was too stressful.

He walked to the small induction cooker in the corner of the room, took a plastic box from under the table. Inside was his stash of emergency food—several packs of instant noodles in different flavors, a few sausages, and a few eggs.

"Sigh, looks like it's up to you tonight, old friend," Lin Fan picked up a packet of Braised Beef Noodles and sighed. He had originally wanted to order takeout as a luxury, but glancing at the person on the bed (though they hadn't said anything, they looked like they'd cost a fortune), he decided to spend sparingly.

He skillfully opened the packaging, took out the noodle cake and seasoning packets, and started boiling water. While waiting for the water to boil, he couldn't help but glance again at the closed bathroom door. It was silent inside, not a sound.

"Did they faint in there?" Lin Fan worried a little, leaning closer to listen, but still no movement. He hesitated about whether to knock and ask.

Just then, the water boiled, and the induction cooker let out a "beep beep" prompt.

Lin Fan had no choice but to go back and prepare the noodles. He put the noodle cake into a large bowl, sprinkled in the seasonings, poured in the boiling water, and then covered the bowl with another plate.

The rich aroma of Braised Beef Noodles, with its generous amount of food additives, instantly filled the small room.

For Lin Fan, who was used to the company cafeteria and takeout, it was a familiar and tempting smell. But for some beings...

"Click."

The bathroom door was gently pushed open.

Tong Tian walked out. He seemed to have simply splashed some water on his face, a few tiny water droplets clinging to his hair, sliding down his sharply defined jawline. His complexion seemed slightly better, but still lacked color.

As soon as he came out, his steps faltered.

Those deep eyes, like the most precise radar, instantly locked onto the source of the smell – the bowl on the table, steeping and emitting a "strange" aroma... food?

His brows furrowed again, tighter than ever before. His gaze was filled with scrutiny, suspicion, and a vigilance as if he had seen some strange medicinal powder concocted by "heretical demons."

"What is this thing? Why does its scent seem so... mixed and impure?" he asked, his tone clearly repulsed. This smell was worlds apart from the heavenly spiritual essences and immortal delicacies he knew. The scent of the various chemical seasonings within it, to his keen senses, was like poison.

Lin Fan, who was peeling a sausage, looked up at the question, seeing the "Are you trying to poison me?" expression on Tong Tian's face, and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Instant noodles, Braised Beef flavor. They're not very nutritious, but they fill you up and taste okay," he said, shaking the sausage in his hand. "Add a sausage, and it's perfect."

With that, he lifted the plate covering the bowl.

An even richer and more potent aroma exploded outwards. White steam rose, blurring Tong Tian's face, which was etched with resistance.

In the bowl, the curled noodle cake gradually softened and unfurled in the scalding hot water, the sauce melting and dyeing the broth an enticing reddish-brown, with oil slicks floating on top.

To Lin Fan, this was the soul's comfort after a late night of overtime.

To Tong Tian, it was simply a bowl of... incomprehensible, suspicious-looking, strangely-smelling... paste containing "impurities."

"A mortal object, so inferior?" The disdain in his voice was almost overflowing. He subconsciously took half a step back, as if the bowl of noodles were a source of filth. "We cultivators, who dine on dew and drink on mist, absorbing the essence of heaven and earth, how can we be tainted by such... turbid energy?"

Lin Fan watched him refuse so earnestly, remembering how he had praised the small bread downstairs, and couldn't help but secretly laugh. He didn't argue, just pulled the noodle bowl closer to himself, picked up a fork, stirred it a few times, then scooped up a large clump, blew on it, and slurped it down with gusto.

"Mmm! Tastes good!" He deliberately made satisfying chewing sounds and even bit into the sausage. "So good!"

Tong Tian: "..."

He stood rooted to the spot, watching Lin Fan eat with relish. His Adam's apple involuntarily, and very slightly, bobbed.

The hunger in his stomach, temporarily suppressed by the small piece of bread, now surged back with the rich aroma, more fiercely than before. The transmigration had consumed too much of his energy, and his body's self-preservation mechanism was screaming for replenishment.

Reason and the dignity of a Sage told him: this thing is inferior, its energy is turbid, eating it is useless, and it might even damage his Dao Foundation (though he could barely feel his Dao Foundation now).

But his physiological instincts roared: Hungry! Very hungry! Need energy! That thing called "instant noodles"... it smells... maybe... not so bad?

A battle raged within him. His expression remained aloof and disdainful, but his eyes kept drifting towards the steaming bowl of "evil" smelling noodles.

Lin Fan ate while observing him from the corner of his eye. Seeing him stubbornly clinging to his pride while clearly wanting to eat, Lin Fan was nearly bursting with laughter internally, but maintained a poker face.

He ate slowly, the sound of him slurping noodles particularly loud.

Finally, as Lin Fan was halfway through his bowl and about to take a sip of the soup, Tong Tian seemed to have made a difficult decision.

He strode, at a pace that seemed unhurried but was actually slightly faster than usual, to the table. He didn't sit down, merely looked down at the bowl of noodles and Lin Fan, who was sweating slightly from eating.

"This thing..." he began, his voice still calm, but if one listened closely, there was a hint of imperceptible tension. "...is it truly... edible?"

Lin Fan's heart bloomed with joy, but his face remained serious. "Of course, it's edible. See, I'm eating it just fine? It doesn't have any spiritual energy or essence, but it's fine for filling your stomach." He pointed at the induction cooker. "There's still boiling water in the pot. If you want some, I can make you another bowl?"

Tong Tian was silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on the noodles, which looked tempting (though perhaps a bit suspicious to him), for a few seconds. He then looked at Lin Fan's perfectly normal complexion, and finally, as if making a great sacrifice, squeezed out a single word from his throat:

"...Yes."

Lin Fan suppressed a smile and quickly got up, taking out another packet of instant noodles. He skillfully opened it and put the noodle cake into another large bowl. This time, he deliberately chose a Spicy Beef flavor.

"Trying a different flavor for you, spicy beef, might be more exciting," he said as he prepared it.

Tong Tian stood by, silently watching Lin Fan's actions, from opening the package to adding the noodle cake, then sprinkling in those colorful powder and sauce packets. His gaze was focused, as if studying some complex array formations or runes.

When Lin Fan poured the boiling water into the bowl, a spicy aroma, slightly different from the Braised Beef flavor, more stimulating and potent, wafted out. Tong Tian's nostrils twitched almost imperceptibly.

He put the lid on, and waited.

These three minutes seemed exceptionally long.

Lin Fan could feel the aura around the "Sage" beside him subtly agitated, though he remained outwardly calm.

When the time was up, Lin Fan lifted the lid.

The broth was bubbling, steaming hot, the spicy aroma hitting the nostrils directly.

Lin Fan handed the fork to Tong Tian. "Here, you can eat it now. Be careful, it's hot."

Tong Tian took the plastic fork. It felt light in his hand, of poor quality. He mimicked Lin Fan's earlier actions, somewhat clumsily picking up a few strands of noodles.

The noodles were slippery, and he tried several times before successfully picking up a small clump. He looked at the food coated in red oil, radiating heat and a strong aroma, then looked at Lin Fan's encouraging (?) gaze. Finally, with the tragic air of someone "sampling poison," he brought the small mouthful of instant noodles to his mouth.

The next second--

Lin Fan clearly saw Tong Tian's eyes widen dramatically!

Not because of the spiciness (with a Sage's physique, even in weakness, he wouldn't fear this level of mortal spice), but because of an unprecedented, intense, and direct flavor impact!

Salty, savory, aromatic, spicy... various complex flavors meticulously blended by the modern food industry exploded on his taste buds! This was a completely different experience from the clear, sweet, and elegant flavors of Primordial Era spiritual items, or the rough and bland taste of mortal food. It was a crude, direct sensory stimulation filled with "the essence of life"!

His chewing paused, his entire body seemingly frozen. Only his deep eyes churned with shock, confusion, and a hint of... well-hidden acknowledgment of "deliciousness"?

Lin Fan watched him nervously, "How is it? Can you accept it? Is it too spicy?"

Tong Tian didn't answer immediately. He slowly and carefully chewed the food in his mouth, as if savoring some profound truth of the Great Dao. After a long while, he swallowed, then looked at the instant noodles in the bowl and then at Lin Fan with an extremely complex expression.

"...Passable." He still used those two words, but his tone seemed less forced than when he had commented on the bread earlier.

With that, he no longer hesitated, raising his fork again. This time, his movements were much smoother. He picked up a larger clump of noodles, blew on them (he learned this action quickly), and then put them into his mouth.

"Slurp--"

A faint but clear slurping sound echoed.

Tong Tian: "..."

Lin Fan: "..."

They both froze for a moment.

A flicker of stiffness crossed Tong Tian's face, as if he felt uncomfortable making such an "indecent" sound. But he quickly ignored this minor interruption and continued to devour the food.

At first, his movements retained a residual elegance and restraint, but soon, driven by both hunger and this novel taste experience, his speed clearly increased. The fork lightly clinked against the bowl's rim. He ate with focus and seriousness, fine beads of sweat even appearing on his forehead, adding a touch of vitality to his pale face.

The bowl of instant noodles, which he had deemed "passable," "inferior," and "filled with turbid energy," rapidly diminished before their eyes.

Watching him, Lin Fan finally breathed a sigh of relief, a sense of inexplicable accomplishment welling up within him. To have this picky "ancestor" accept instant noodles was quite an achievement, wasn't it?

He finished the rest in his own bowl, then watched as Tong Tian drank the last drop of soup, not even leaving a trace of the red oil.

Tong Tian put down the bowl and wiped his mouth with the tissue Lin Fan handed him (he studied it for a moment before understanding its purpose), his movements returning to their previous composure. However, his slightly flushed cheeks and eyes that seemed brighter than before betrayed his body's current satisfaction.

"This item... although it contains impure energy, it is slightly beneficial for restoring vital energy." He gave a very "objective" assessment, attempting to salvage his slightly undignified image from earlier.

Lin Fan suppressed a smile and nodded in agreement, "Yes, yes, it's good as long as it fills the stomach." He inwardly scoffed: Slightly beneficial? Who was it that ate until not even the soup was left just now?

After eating and drinking, the atmosphere in the room seemed to have eased considerably. At least, Lin Fan felt less pressure.

But with that came more practical problems.

Sleep.

Lin Fan's single room had only one single bed.

He looked at the bed, then at the tall, long-legged Tong Tian with his imposing aura, and fell into thought.

Make this esteemed guest sleep on the floor? He glanced at the man's still somewhat weak complexion even after eating, and his ancient robes that looked very expensive (he probably couldn't afford to replace them if they got wet or dirty). It didn't seem realistic.

Sleep on the floor himself? He was also somewhat unwilling; he had to get up early for work tomorrow.

While he was agonizing, Tong Tian spoke up first.

He pointed to an empty space against the wall, where Lin Fan's old yoga mat (though he rarely used it) was laid out.

"I shall meditate here." His tone was calm, as if stating the most normal thing in the world. "The spiritual energy in this realm is sparse, almost nonexistent, but... it's better than nothing."

Lin Fan was taken aback, "Huh? You're sleeping on the floor? That doesn't seem right..." Although he had thought of it himself earlier, the other party suggesting it made him feel a bit embarrassed.

"It matters not." Tong Tian had already walked over, lifted the hem of his robe, and sat down cross-legged, his posture standard, his back straight, like a statue of a deity about to enter meditation. "A cultivator needs no bed."

His tone carried an unquestionable decisiveness. The idea of sleeping on a mortal's bed was absolutely unacceptable to him after he had regained some of his cognition and dignity.

Lin Fan watched as he instantly entered a state of focus, with an extremely faint, almost imperceptible flow of energy seemingly circulating around him (perhaps an illusion). He could only let it be.

"Then... alright. If you feel cold or uncomfortable, just say so. I have a blanket here." Lin Fan rummaged through the cabinet and found an extra thin blanket, handing it over.

Tong Tian glanced at it but didn't take it. He simply closed his eyes and said faintly, "No need."

Lin Fan awkwardly put the blanket back. Great, another warm gesture met with a cold shoulder.

He quickly tidied up the bowls and chopsticks, washed up himself, then turned off the main light, leaving only the dim bedside lamp on, and climbed into his own bed.

Lying on the bed, Lin Fan had no intention of sleeping.

Everything that happened today was too surreal, like a bizarre dream. A strange man in ancient costume calling himself "Tong Tian" was beside him, eating instant noodles and meditating?

He turned his head, looking at Tong Tian, who sat on the mat by the wall like an old monk in deep meditation. The dim light outlined the clear contours of his profile, his long eyelashes lowered, his breathing long and steady, as if he were truly cut off from this world, entering some mysterious state.

"Who exactly is he? Where did he come from? What should I do tomorrow?" Countless questions swirled in Lin Fan's mind.

Call the police? Send him away? Or just keep him?

Keep him? With what? His meager salary?

Lin Fan felt a headache coming on. He turned over, forcing himself to stop thinking. The cart will find its way when it reaches the bridge; sleep first, and worry about it tomorrow.

Just as he was drowsily about to fall asleep, suddenly, a very faint but malicious rustling sound and hushed laughter drifted in from outside the window.

"...Is this the place? The lights are off..."

"Damn it, that pretty boy doesn't look like he has much money. Wasted my time squatting here for half the night."

"The one he brought back, dressed in ancient clothes, looks like a sucker. He might have some good stuff on him..."

"Let's wait until the middle of the night and sneak in..."

Lin Fan's sleepiness vanished in an instant!

He suddenly opened his eyes, his heart tightening.

It was those punks from downstairs! They actually followed him here? And they wanted to sneak in tonight?

He held his breath, listening nervously to the sounds outside the window, his palms starting to sweat. He lived alone and feared this kind of security issue the most.

What should he do? Call the police? Would that be in time? Would it provoke them?

He instinctively looked at Tong Tian, who was sitting by the wall.

Tong Tian remained seated with his eyes closed, as if completely unaware of everything around him. In the dim light, his face was calm, neither happy nor sad.

However, just as those malicious whispers outside the window sounded again, Lin Fan clearly saw—

Tong Tian's two sword-like eyebrows, which slanted up towards his temples, furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Although he still hadn't opened his eyes, the faint airflow around him, which had been almost nonexistent, seemed to freeze in that instant.

A very faint, yet extremely sharp chill, like a sliver of a sword blade unsheathed silently in the dead of winter, spread out without a sound, making the temperature in the small room seem to drop a few degrees.

Lin Fan's heart skipped a beat.