Shen Hui watched the flames dancing in the stove, and a thought stirred in his mind.
The swirling tongues of fire abruptly drew together, converging into a single point before vanishing without a trace.
Only dim red embers remained in the stove. In the blink of an eye, they faded, losing their warmth, as though they had never burned at all.
He stirred his thoughts again.
The vanished flames leaped out of nothingness once more. In the blink of an eye, they blazed fiercely in the stove, sending a wave of heat rushing toward him.
He turned his attention inward. A warm feeling filled his chest.
There, a flame the size of a bean burned quietly, weak yet steady, like a lamp swaying in the wind.
This was Heartfire.
At last, he had acquired his first art.
He hadn't relied on any external aid. He had figured it out himself, bit by bit.
Of course, that wasn't entirely true.
As he stared at the flame, lost in thought, Fifth Senior Brother's startled cry suddenly rang in his ears:
"Oh no! It's burnt! It's burnt!"
He came to his senses, only to see Fifth Senior Brother already dash over to the stove in a few strides and yank off the lid.
A rush of scorched white steam billowed out, filling the entire kitchen.
The porridge in the pot was no longer porridge.
The grains of rice clung dryly to the bottom. The layer beneath them had turned into dark brown rice crust, its edges even curling up, charred black.
"This... this..."
Holding a spatula, Qing Shi grimaced at the burnt bottom of the pot. "Oh, what a shame. A whole pot of good rice..."
Shen Hui felt a little embarrassed. "It's my fault, it's my fault. I got caught up in my own thing and forgot there was something in the pot..."
Qing Shi waved a hand, not blaming him.
As he scraped hard at the burnt crust on the bottom of the pot, he comforted him. "It's fine, it's fine. It'll just taste a little bitter. We'll make do with it today."
As he spoke, he scraped the charred crust into a large bowl, then scraped off the parts on top that were still edible. He managed to scrape together half a basin of mushy porridge.
It certainly didn't look... appetizing.
Shen Hui looked at the half basin of black mush and felt a little guilty.
He glanced around the kitchen at the ingredients: a small piece of meat on the chopping board, a few wilted greens piled in the corner, and some dried mushrooms on the windowsill.
"Fifth Senior Brother," he said suddenly, "let me stir-fry something."
Qing Shi paused and looked him up and down, a hint of doubt in his eyes. "You? You know how to cook?"
Shen Hui smiled without explaining. He simply rolled up his sleeves and went to the counter.
He picked up the piece of meat and sliced it thinly in a few quick strokes. Then he sprinkled on some salt to marinate it and headed straight out of the kitchen.
While he was gone, Qing Shi went over to the chopping board for a look. Seeing the even slices and deft knife work, he couldn't help but stare. He muttered, "Not bad, Junior Brother. You've got some skill..."
Shen Hui made a circuit of the courtyard. When he returned, he had a handful of tender green shepherd's purse in one hand and a large, dark lump in the other.
Qing Shi took a closer look and realized it was a mushroom growing on a rotten stump.
"This thing..." Qing Shi pointed at the mushroom. "Can you eat it?"
"This is a shiitake mushroom. It's edible."
As he spoke, Shen Hui deftly washed and sliced it. "Haven't you eaten it before?"
Qing Shi shook his head. "We didn't know if it was poisonous, so we never tried it..."
Shen Hui smiled and said nothing more.
The kitchen had only a few seasonings: salt and a small jar of lard. But that was enough.
Once everything was ready, he was about to light the fire when he noticed Qing Shi hesitating.
"What's wrong, Senior Brother?"
Qing Shi pointed at the piece of meat and whispered, "Fourth Senior Sister gave you that meat specially to help you regain your strength. You've sliced up all of it..."
Shen Hui only smiled, his hands never stopping. "It's better to share joy than to enjoy it alone."
As he spoke, he placed one hand on the stove and stirred his thoughts.
The flames in the stove, already dim, abruptly leaped up, surging in waves.
Qing Shi jumped back in shock, staring wide-eyed at the stove. "It can burn without adding firewood?"
"Have you forgotten? I practice the Fire Element Art. It just costs a little spiritual energy."
As Shen Hui spoke, he had already put the lard into the wok. It melted, and the meat slid in with a sizzling sound, sending up a burst of fragrance.
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the meat slices in the wok. Each one heated evenly.
Qing Shi watched, entranced. He looked from the food in the wok to the fire in the stove and clicked his tongue in amazement.
"Junior Brother, does this mean you've mastered the basics of controlling fire?"
"I have you to thank for your guidance, Senior Brother."
Shen Hui flicked his wrist again. The sliced mushrooms went into the wok, followed by another sizzle. The fragrance grew richer.
Qing Shi swallowed and suddenly blurted out, "If you came to tend the stove every day, we could save a lot of firewood..."
Shen Hui smiled. "Just say the word, Senior Brother, and I'll take on some of the kitchen duties from now on. If you ever don't feel like cooking, I can take over for you."
As they spoke, the first dish was ready and plated.
The bustle in the kitchen moved over to the Dining Hall along with the two dishes.
Senior Brother Li Changxing looked at the blackened mush in his bowl without even furrowing his brow. He lifted the bowl to drink, but when Shen Hui came in carrying the dishes, he paused and looked at the plates.
"What's the occasion? We have side dishes today?"
"Some mushrooms and wild greens." Shen Hui set the two dishes in the middle of the table. "Fifth Senior Brother tended the stove. I just gave him a hand."
Qing Shi followed close behind and hurriedly waved his hands. "The dishes were all made by Junior Brother. I only tended the fire... Oh, no, that's not right. He lit the fire himself, too."
Fourth Senior Sister Jinghui had already come over. She sniffed eagerly, her eyes shining. "It smells wonderful! Junior Brother can cook?"
"A little." Shen Hui smiled and sat down.
"It smells good!"
"And it looks good, too."
"We just don't know how it tastes..."
"What are you all waiting for? Eat!"
Senior Brother was the first to pick up his chopsticks. He picked up a slice of mushroom and put it in his mouth. After chewing twice, his eyes widened slightly.
"Mm, these mushrooms are tender and juicy. They're cooked just right."
Qingyi also took a slice of meat and savored it carefully.
"It really is good."
He nodded repeatedly, sounding a little moved. "We're lucky to have Junior Brother around. In the past, getting to eat meat was no easy thing."
Jinghui had already stuffed her mouth full. Chewing, she spoke indistinctly. "Delicious, delicious! I never knew Junior Brother could cook. Next time Fifth Junior Brother goes down the mountain with Master, you can tend the stove!"
"That won't do."
Qing Shi hurriedly spoke up, though he kept reaching for the dishes. "Junior Brother has already begun practicing. In a few days, it'll be his turn to go down the mountain with Master..."
"Go down the mountain?" Shen Hui asked, puzzled.
Qing Shi looked a little embarrassed as he explained. "By the rules, new disciples have to accompany Master down the mountain to handle errands and travel around, once in spring and once in autumn. You joined late, but your cultivation is coming along quickly. You'll probably have to go by next spring at the latest."
Shen Hui paused. "What do we do down there? Slay demons and exorcise evil?"
"There's no need to worry."
Senior Brother Li Changxing waved a hand. "We just help with odd jobs and carry boxes. Let's not talk about that. Eat, eat."
Everyone picked up their chopsticks.
The shepherd's purse was stir-fried to a glossy, vibrant green, crisp and tender in the mouth. The shiitake mushrooms with sliced meat were so savory that it was hard to stop eating.
The group chatted and laughed, making the meal far livelier than usual.
Even the usually reserved Senior Brother grew talkative, telling them about the blunders he'd made when he first joined.
Qingyi occasionally chimed in with a laugh, only for Jinghui to cut him off with a few words.
In the end, everyone egged Shen Hui on to make more food the next day. They even told Fourth Senior Sister Jinghui to go into the mountains for some game, and Third Senior Brother said he would dig up the good wine he'd buried last year.
The Dining Hall rang with chatter and laughter. The temple had gained a little more warmth and life.
Just then, Second Senior Sister Jingming, who had silently eaten mush the entire time, suddenly put down her chopsticks and furrowed her brow.
"Those who cultivate should be pure of heart and free of desire. To indulge in nothing but the pleasures of the palate—how are we any different from worldly people?"
Her voice wasn't loud, but the lively atmosphere suddenly fell still.
Jinghui still had food in her mouth. At Jingming's words, she didn't even dare to chew.
With puffed-out cheeks, she looked at Shen Hui, her eyes full of sympathy.
Though she didn't say a word, Shen Hui understood perfectly. Fourth Senior Sister's expression plainly said: You're in trouble. Second Senior Sister is about to start preaching.
Shen Hui calmly set down his chopsticks and replied with unhurried grace, "Second Senior Sister is right. Cultivators should naturally be pure of heart and free of desire."
He paused, then abruptly changed tack. "But as the saying goes, 'Food and sex are the greatest desires of humankind.' Eating and sleeping are both human nature and part of the natural order. Why suppress them by force?"
Jingming looked him straight in the eye. "When form enslaves the mind, things burden the spirit. Those who indulge in flavor drift ever farther from the Dao."
Shen Hui wasn't annoyed. Instead, he picked up the teapot and poured Jingming a cup of rough tea before asking, "Senior Sister, do you know where this tea comes from?"
Jingming lowered her eyes. "It was brewed with mountain spring water and wild tea leaves."
"Where does the spring water come from?"
"It seeps through a crevice in the rocks behind the mountain."
Shen Hui nodded. "Then why not take the muddy water from the canal? Why choose the clear spring on the cliff?"
Jingming paused. "The canal water is muddy and unfit to drink."
"Unfit to drink?"
Shen Hui smiled and pushed the teacup toward her. "Since you distinguish between clear and muddy, why reproach us for delighting in food?"
Jingming frowned and answered without thinking, "I chose the spring not for its taste, but for its purity."
Shen Hui clapped his hands and finally showed his fox's tail. "Senior Sister, isn't 'purity' also a flavor? If something had no flavor, how could you distinguish the clear from the muddy? You shun the word 'sweet,' yet in practice you still choose according to taste. Isn't that just covering your ears while stealing a bell?"
Jingming raised an eyebrow. "Sophistry. To indulge in savoring food is to let the mind chase after things. That is the inferior path."
"Not so, not so."
Shen Hui's smile didn't fade. "When ordinary people eat, the food eats them: they stuff themselves all day without giving anything thought. When cultivators eat, people eat the food: they take in its essence, gather energy, and make it their own. They may both raise their chopsticks, but their intentions are different."
Jingming pondered for a moment, as though considering his words, but in the end she still shook her head. "What you say seems to make some sense. But if everyone claimed to be 'savoring' food, wouldn't that encourage people to abandon restraint and indulge their desires?"
This time, Shen Hui didn't continue to argue. His smile faded, and he nodded in acknowledgment. "Everything has its limits. But the key isn't the 'thing' itself, it's the 'mind.' If you meet a true glutton, belly swollen and unable to taste what he eats, then by all means rebuke him. But we're only trying to make our greens palatable and our soup well-seasoned. Why mock us as 'worldly'?"
Jingming opened her mouth at that, but for a moment she was at a loss for words.
Shen Hui unhurriedly picked up a stalk of shepherd's purse and examined it carefully. "The sages said, 'Within the crown of the head and every joint dwells a god.' There are eight thousand four hundred taste buds on the tongue, and a Food God dwells in each one. If you can't even discern the taste of this dish of shepherd's purse, how can you know whether those eight thousand four hundred Food Gods are joyful or sorrowful?"
"You're twisting the meaning of the classics," Jingming protested.
"Then let me say something that isn't twisted."
Shen Hui put the shepherd's purse into his mouth, chewed it carefully, and swallowed. "As the saying goes, 'Food and sex are human nature.' This isn't teaching people to abandon restraint and indulge their desires. It's telling us the simplest truth: eating and drinking are human nature."
"Human nature remains, so desires remain. True cultivation isn't about extinguishing emotion and desire. It's about staying clear-minded and restrained when faced with desire."
He paused, his tone turning earnest. "The body is a raft for crossing the river, a vessel that carries the Dao. Suppress desire to excess, and you lose some of your substance, leaving yourself unable to withstand the storms. Accept everything without restraint, and you'll be crushed by the burden, with a risk of sinking the boat."
Jingming listened, staring fixedly at the two dishes on the table. For a long time, she said nothing.
The others also couldn't help widening their eyes.
It was hard to tell whether they were more surprised by Jingming's silence or by Shen Hui's ability to say such things.
After a long while, Jingming finally spoke, her voice distant. "I have cultivated on Deer Rest Mountain for more than twenty years, and thought I had seen through many things. Today, after hearing Junior Brother's words, I realize..."
"Realize what?" Shen Hui smiled and picked up her words. "Realize that the warmth of everyday life is also a great medicine?"
Jingming paused slightly, then nodded.
She looked at the dishes on the table and hesitated for a moment. At last, she reached out with her chopsticks, picked up a slice of mushroom, and put it in her mouth.
The mushroom broke between her teeth. Salty, savory, crisp, and tender, with a faint sweetness, its flavor slowly spread across her tongue.
Jingming closed her eyes, feeling the eight thousand four hundred Food Gods dancing with delight across her tongue.
"How is it?" Shen Hui asked.
Jingming opened her eyes, a faint smile appearing at the corners of her mouth.
"Cooked just right."
The laughter from the Dining Hall had long since died away.
Jingming returned to her room in the West Courtyard, lit an oil lamp, and sat down at her desk.
She dipped her brush in ink, hoping to write a few characters and calm her mind.
The tip of the brush touched the paper and spread into a small blot of ink. After a brief pause, her wrist turned lightly, and she wrote four characters:
"Pure of Heart, Free of Desire."
For more than twenty years of cultivation, these four characters had been her guiding principle.
But now, looking at them, she found them somewhat jarring.
She thought of Shen Hui's words at the dinner table, of her hesitation when she picked up the mushroom, and of the delight she felt when its savory taste blossomed on her tongue...
She closed her eyes briefly, then picked up her brush again and wrote:
"An immortal's bones come from shunning the mundane; a Buddha's heart comes from deep compassion."
These were words her master had spoken when debating the Dao with Master Duowen of Bright Moon Nunnery. The first line had been her master's, and the second Master Duowen's response.
At the time, Jingming hadn't thought much of them, taking them for nothing more than a clever exchange. But now, as she wrote them, every word seemed to strike at her.
She set down her brush and stared at the two lines. After a long while, she added two lines of her own reflections:
"Seek the Dao at the bottom of the bowl; don't judge the worldly from the tip of the tongue."
When she finished, she put down her brush and sighed softly.
Suddenly, a faint rustling sound came from outside the window.
Jingming looked up. A civet cat leaped in through the window lattice and landed lightly on the desk, settling beside the page she had just written.
Its fur gleamed, and beneath the lamplight, its eyes glowed a ghostly green.
It lowered its head to look at the words on the page, then raised it to gaze at Jingming.
"This little junior brother of yours is rather interesting."
Jingming narrowed her eyes and stared at it coldly.
The civet cat acted as if it hadn't noticed Jingming's expression. It simply licked its paw and continued in an unhurried voice:
"To be safe, we should still deal with him cleanly, lest unforeseen trouble arise."
After sending away Fifth Senior Brother, who had been about to help, Shen Hui stacked the bowls and plates, carried them to the washbasin in the courtyard, and ladled up some cold water. By moonlight, he began washing them slowly.
The night in the mountains was eerily quiet.
Now and then, an unknown bird called from far away. The sound passed through layer upon layer of forest, lending the night a deep, uncanny air.
As he washed the dishes, his mind kept circling back to what had been said at the dinner table: next spring, he would go down the mountain with Master?
Would he be slaying demons and exorcising fiends, protecting the people of a region?
It probably wouldn't be easy. He would have to ask for the details tomorrow. If there was danger, he'd need to practice his spell more.
His hands kept moving, while he summoned the interface in his mind and brought it into view.
[Minor Five Elements Art: Fire Control (Beginner)]
He hadn't had a chance to look closely after reaching the beginner level. Now that the interface unfolded, two lines of text immediately appeared in his mind.
He studied them for a while and realized he had two paths to choose from.
The first was the Outer Dao method, called Ghost Fiend.
This Outer Dao method relied not on comprehension, but on nourishment.
In other words, he would use his own blood and essence as a guide to nourish a Ghost Fiend within his heart.
In his daily practice, he would have to devote half his attention to soothing it and the other half to cultivation.
During a battle, he could undo its restraints, and the Ghost Fiend would ignite Fiend Fire and pounce on his opponent, its power domineering and unstoppable.
This method burned only the physical body. It could reduce a person to smoke and melt metal and stone, but anyone who practiced it had to remain constantly wary of the Ghost Fiend turning on them.
The second was the Inner Dao method, called the Heart Lamp.
This Inner Dao method relied on nothing external; it refined only the heart.
At the beginning of cultivation, he would need to shut off his five senses and visualize a Bronze Ancient Lamp in his heart. In his daily practice, he would devote half his attention to refining the lamp and the other half to cultivation.
During a battle, all he had to do was cast his seven emotions and six desires into it, and he could stir his opponent's Heartfire, burning their soul and refining their spirit. It was a sinister, vicious technique.
This method excelled at burning the souls of Yin Ghosts and spirits, making them suffer as if they had fallen into a pot of boiling oil. However, its practitioners risked Heart Madness Self-Immolation.
Which... should he choose?
Both seemed powerful, but each also seemed to come with its own problems.
As Shen Hui pondered, the bowl in his hand suddenly stopped.
Something seemed to move in the corner of his eye.
He turned to look. A faint light shone through the kitchen window. It flickered, as if something were dancing.
But the fire in the kitchen had gone out long ago.
Shen Hui set down the bowl, wiped his hands, and quietly made his way back to the kitchen.
He pushed open the ajar wooden door. The inside was pitch-black, except for a small red light flickering near the stove.
He took a few steps closer and peered at it.
There, in the stove, crouched a tiny, crimson figure!
It was no bigger than a palm, its entire body formed from dancing flames. Its features were indistinct, leaving only the rough outline of a person.
The Little Red Man huddled in the middle of the stove, curled up as if it were cold. The faint light came from its body.
Shen Hui froze.
What in the world was that?
The little Fire Ghost seemed to sense someone approaching. It suddenly lifted its head and "looked" in Shen Hui's direction.
A man and a flame faced each other in the darkness.
After a long while, the little Fire Ghost stirred, stood up in the stove, and staggered a couple of steps.
Then it slowly reached out toward Shen Hui with two slender arms of flame.
This... actually looked kind of cute.
But in the next moment, its roughly sketched head revealed its true form.
Red skin, one eye, and a mouthful of fangs—it looked like a demon.
Their eyes met for only an instant.
All traces of the Crimson Imp's innocent charm vanished.
Its red skin creased as a single eye split open in the middle of its face. Its fangs jutted out, savage and gleaming. There wasn't a trace of cuteness left.
Its body suddenly shrank, then shot forward in a flash of red.
Shen Hui had no time to react. A searing pain flared across his face.
The little creature had seized his face with all four limbs, claws digging deep into his flesh and scorching him like red-hot iron.
"Argh—!"
Shen Hui couldn't help but fall backward, his back slamming hard against the ground.
The little Fire Ghost clung to his face, its single eye inches from his as they stared at each other. Its mouth stretched wide, revealing a row of fine, sharp teeth.
Then it shoved a claw into his mouth, as if trying to dig something out.
Shen Hui's scream turned into a muffled groan.
The stench of burning flesh surged from his mouth. Amid the agony, he clamped his teeth down hard.
With a snap, he bit through the tiny arm.
A flash of shock crossed the little Fire Ghost's single eye, then turned to fury.
It let go of Shen Hui's face. Flames gushed from its severed arm, and in the blink of an eye, a new one grew—thicker than before.
First, it slapped Shen Hui across the face with its newly grown hand. Then it pried his jaws apart with both claws.
In the next instant, it lunged into Shen Hui's mouth, then forced its way down his throat and into his chest and abdomen.
Shen Hui could no longer scream.
He felt a mass of molten copper and iron forcing its way down his throat. Everywhere it passed, his organs sizzled as they burned.
He wanted to vomit but couldn't; he wanted to shout but couldn't. All he could do was let the ball of fire rampage through his body.
Then the ball of fire stopped at his heart.
It reached out a claw, seized the faint Heartfire in Shen Hui's chest, and opened its mouth to swallow it.
Shen Hui's eyes rolled back, and his whole body went limp, as if his spine had been pulled out.
After the little demon swallowed the Heartfire, its body swelled at once, and the flames around it burned even brighter.
It circled around inside Shen Hui. Apparently deciding the body was no longer useful, it didn't retrace its path. Instead, it slashed with both claws, tearing at Shen Hui's chest and abdomen as it tried to claw its way out.
His insides burned, and his belly felt as if it were about to be ripped open from within.
But at this desperate moment, Shen Hui gradually grew calm.
The calm was strange.
It was as if his soul had been pulled out of his body and left floating in midair, coldly watching the man below writhe and scream on the ground.
He looked at the little demon, which was almost tearing its way out of his chest, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes.
"You and I have no grievance between us, yet you swallowed my Heartfire and tried to take my life. So be it. We'll fight to the death, and neither of us will rest until the other is dead!"
His mind stirred, and he began to visualize the Heart Lamp with all his might.
In an instant, a bronze lamp appeared amid the chaos inside him.
Its base was ancient and plain, its body mottled, and its wick hollow and dark.
Shen Hui thrust out his right hand, the veins bulging, seized the little demon that was about to claw its way out, and slammed it against the ancient lamp in his heart!
A piercing shriek burst from the little demon's fang-filled mouth. It seemed to sense danger and began to struggle frantically, its claws flailing as it tried to break free.
But Shen Hui refused to let go, even at the cost of his life.
He clenched his teeth until blood foamed at his lips. With every last shred of his concentration, he pinned the little demon firmly to the lamp's wick.
The little demon's body began to burn.
The Heart Lamp's flame was pure and yang, while the Fire Ghost's body was yin and baleful. The moment the two met, it was like throwing ice into boiling oil.
The little demon shrieked and struggled. The flames on its body flickered between bright red and ghostly blue.
Shen Hui burned too.
The agony of yin and yang scorching him at once was a hundred times worse than the little demon's tearing claws.
It was as if someone had thrown him into a furnace and melted him into iron, then pulled him out and tossed him into an ice cellar to freeze solid.
Melt, then freeze. Freeze, then melt.
Again and again, as if he were being dragged through the Eighteen Levels of Hell over and over.
But he still refused to let go, even if it killed him.
After a while.
The little demon's struggles weakened, and the flames on its body gradually steadied, no longer flickering.
A tiny flame burned quietly at the lamp's wick.
Within it, a demon's shadow still seemed to writhe, claws bared.
Shen Hui collapsed on the ground, panting heavily.
He was drenched in sweat from head to toe, as if he had just been fished out of a pond.
But he had no time to care. He could only stare fixedly at the lamp in his heart, and at the motionless demon shadow within its wick.
Had he done it?
It seemed he had refined a wild Ghost Fiend into the wick of his Heart Lamp.
Come to think of it, that should have been a Ghost Fiend, right?
Too bad he'd already been disemboweled and was about to die. He'd never get the chance to find out.