Better to be shattered jade

Shen Hui watched the flames dancing in the stove, his mind stirring slightly.

The swirling tongues of fire suddenly drew in, coalesced into a single point, and vanished without a trace.

Only dark embers remained in the stove, and in an instant, they too faded in color, lost their warmth, as if they had never burned at all.

He stirred his mind again.

The extinguished flame leaped back from nothingness, and in the blink of an eye, it blazed fiercely in the stove, a wave of heat rushing toward his face.

He sank his mind inward, and a warmth spread across his chest.

There, a flame the size of a bean was burning quietly—faint yet steady, like a lamp flickering in the wind.

This was the Heartfire.

He had finally obtained his first spell.

Not relying on any external aid, but figuring it out bit by bit on his own.

Well, not entirely on his own, either.

He was staring at the flame, lost in thought, when Fifth Senior Brother's startled cry suddenly rang in his ears:

"Ah! It's burnt! Burnt!"

He snapped back to reality and saw Fifth Senior Brother already rushing to the stove in two or three strides, yanking the lid off the pot.

A puff of scorched white steam burst out, filling the entire kitchen.

The porridge in the pot was no longer porridge.

The grains of rice were stuck dryly to the bottom, the lowest layer already forming a dark brown crust, its edges even curled up in black char.

"This... this..."

Qing Shi held the spatula, staring at the scorched pot bottom with a wince. "Ah, what a waste of good rice..."

Shen Hui felt a bit embarrassed. "My fault, my fault. I was too absorbed in my own thoughts and forgot there was still something in the pot..."

Qing Shi waved his hand, not blaming him at all.

As he scraped forcefully at the burnt crust on the pot bottom, he offered comfort: "It's fine, it's fine. It'll just taste a bit bitter. We'll make do with it today."

He spoke while scooping the charred crust into a large bowl, then scraped off the parts on top that were still somewhat edible, barely managing to gather half a basin of mushy porridge.

But its appearance... well, it wasn't exactly appetizing.

Shen Hui looked at the half-basin of dark, mushy sludge and felt a pang of guilt.

He turned his head and scanned the ingredients in the kitchen: a small piece of meat on the cutting board, a few wilted greens piled in the corner, and some dried mushrooms airing on the windowsill.

"Fifth Senior Brother," he suddenly spoke up, "let me stir-fry a dish."

Qing Shi paused, looked him up and down with a hint of skepticism in his gaze. "You? Can you cook?"

Shen Hui smiled without much explanation, simply rolled up his sleeves and walked over to the cutting board.

He picked up the meat first, sliced it into thin pieces with a few swift cuts, casually sprinkled some salt to marinate it, then turned and left the kitchen.

Qing Shi took the chance to step over and peek at the cutting board. Seeing the meat slices were evenly thick, the knife work clean and sharp, he couldn't help but pause, muttering under his breath, "Not bad, Junior Brother. You've really got some skill..."

Shen Hui circled the yard for a bit and came back with a handful of tender wild shepherd's purse in one hand and a large, dark lump in the other.

Qing Shi squinted at it and realized it was a mushroom growing from a rotten tree stump.

"This thing..." Qing Shi pointed at the mushroom. "Can you eat it?"

"This is winter mushroom. It's edible."

Shen Hui said as he deftly washed and sliced it. "You've never had it before?"

Qing Shi shook his head. "Didn't know if it was poisonous, so we never tried it..."

Shen Hui smiled and said no more.

The seasonings in the kitchen were simple—just 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, as if wanting to say something.

"What's wrong, Senior Brother?"

Qing Shi pointed at the meat and said quietly, "That meat was specially set aside by Fourth Senior Sister to nourish you alone. You've cut it all up..."

Shen Hui just smiled, his hands not stopping. "Joy shared with others is greater than joy kept to oneself."

As he spoke, he pressed one hand against the stove and stirred his mind.

The dim flame in the stove suddenly shot up, a surge of fire rolling forth.

Qing Shi jumped back in surprise, eyes wide as he stared at the stove. "It burns without adding firewood?"

"Senior Brother forgot—I cultivate the fire-element method. It just costs a bit of spiritual energy."

Shen Hui said as the lard went into the pot, melted, and the meat slices slid in with a sizzle, the aroma bursting upward.

He flicked his wrist, and the meat in the pot flipped over, each piece evenly heated.

Qing Shi watched, mesmerized, glancing now at the dish in the pot, now at the fire in the stove, clicking his tongue in wonder.

"Junior Brother, have you gotten the hang of controlling fire?"

"All thanks to your guidance, Senior Brother."

Shen Hui flicked his wrist again, sending the shiitake slices into the pot. Another sizzle followed, and the aroma grew richer.

Qing Shi swallowed hard, then blurted out, "If you took over the stove every day, you'd save the kitchen a lot of firewood..."

Shen Hui smiled. "If you say the word, Senior Brother, I'll take my share of the kitchen duties. Even if one day you don't feel like cooking, I can take your shift."

As he spoke, the first dish was plated and ready.

The liveliness in the kitchen shifted along with the two dishes as they were carried into the dining hall.

Eldest Senior Brother Li Changxing looked at the pitch-black paste in his bowl without even a furrow of his brow, lifting it to drink.

When he saw Shen Hui bring in the dishes, he paused, his gaze landing on the plates.

"What's the occasion today? There's food?"

"Just some mushrooms and wild greens." Shen Hui set the two plates in the center of the table. "Fifth Senior Brother manned the stove; I helped out a bit."

Qing Shi followed behind, quickly waving his hands. "The junior brother did all the cooking. I just tended the fire... oh no, he lit that himself too."

Fourth Senior Sister Jinghui had already leaned in, sniffing hard, her eyes sparkling. "Smells great! Little Junior Brother can cook?"

"A little." Shen Hui sat down with a smile.

"Smells good!"

"Looks good too."

"Wonder how it tastes..."

"What are you all staring for? Eat."

Eldest Senior Brother took the lead, picking up a slice of mushroom and popping it into his mouth. After chewing a couple of times, his eyes widened slightly.

"Mm, the mushroom is tender and juicy, perfectly cooked."

Qingyi also picked up a piece of meat, savoring it slowly.

"Not bad at all."

He nodded repeatedly, a hint of emotion in his voice. "We're really benefiting from Little Junior Brother's presence. In the past, getting a taste of meat wasn't so easy."

Jinghui had already stuffed her mouth full, mumbling as she chewed, "Delicious, delicious! Who knew Little Junior Brother could cook? Next time Fifth Junior Brother goes down the mountain with Master, you'll take over the stove!"

"That won't do."

Qing Shi quickly spoke up, though he didn't stop picking up food. "Junior Brother has already entered the path of cultivation. In a few more days, it'll be his turn to go down the mountain with Master..."

"Down the mountain?" Shen Hui looked puzzled.

Qing Shi looked a bit sheepish, explaining to Shen Hui, "By the rules, new disciples accompany Master down the mountain to handle affairs, once in spring and once in autumn. You joined late, but your cultivation isn't slow. At the latest, by next spring, it'll probably be your turn."

Shen Hui was taken aback. "What for? To slay demons and vanquish evil?"

"No need to worry."

Eldest Senior Brother Li Changxing waved his hand. "Just helping with odd jobs, carrying boxes. Enough of that—let's eat first."

Everyone picked up their chopsticks.

The shepherd's purse was stir-fried a glossy green, crisp and tender to the bite, while the shiitake and meat slices were so savory they couldn't stop reaching for more.

Chatting and laughing, the meal was far livelier than usual.

The normally steady Eldest Senior Brother grew talkative, recounting the blunders he'd made when he first joined.

Qingyi occasionally chimed in with a smile, only to be cut off by Jinghui's retorts.

Finally, the group urged Shen Hui to whip up more food tomorrow, telling Fourth Senior Sister Jinghui to hunt some game in the mountains, and even Third Senior Brother said he'd dig up the good wine he'd buried last year.

The dining hall buzzed with noise, filling the temple with a touch of worldly warmth.

Just then, Second Senior Sister Jingming, who had been silently eating her paste, suddenly set down her chopsticks, her brow slightly furrowed.

"Those who cultivate should keep their hearts pure and desires few. Indulging in the cravings of the tongue—how is that different from worldly folk?"

Her voice wasn't loud, but it brought the lively atmosphere to an abrupt halt.

Jinghui still had food in her mouth and dared not chew.

She puffed out her cheeks and looked at Shen Hui, her eyes carrying a hint of sympathy.

Though she said nothing, Shen Hui understood clearly—Fourth Senior Sister's expression was practically saying: You're in for it; Second Senior Sister is about to start lecturing.

Shen Hui calmly set down his bamboo chopsticks and replied unhurriedly, "Second Senior Sister speaks truly. Cultivation naturally requires a pure heart and few desires."

He paused, then shifted his tone. "But as the saying goes: 'Eating and mating are among humanity's greatest desires.' Eating and sleeping are both human nature and the natural order of things. Why force suppression?"

Jingming met his gaze. "The body is enslaved by the mind, and things burden the spirit. Those who indulge in flavor drift further from the Way each day."

Shen Hui wasn't offended. Instead, he picked up the teapot, poured a cup of coarse tea for Jingming, and asked in turn:

"Senior Sister, do you know where this tea comes from?"

Jingming lowered her eyes. "Mountain spring water boiled, wild tea leaves steeped."

"Where does the spring come from?"

"It seeps from a crevice in the back mountain."

Shen Hui nodded. "Then why not take the muddy water from the ditch, and insist on this clear spring from the cliff instead?"

Jingming was taken aback. "The ditch water is turbid and unfit for drinking."

"Unfit for drinking?"

Shen Hui smiled, pushing the teacup forward. "Since Senior Sister can distinguish clear from muddy, why blame us for indulging our tongues?"

Jingming frowned and spoke without thinking. "I choose the spring not for its taste, but for its clarity."

Shen Hui clapped his hands and laughed, finally showing his fox's tail. "Senior Sister, isn't this 'clarity' itself a flavor? Without flavor, how can one discern clear from muddy? You avoid the name of 'sweetness' while actually practicing 'flavor selection'—isn't that covering your ears to steal a bell?"

Jingming's brow lifted. "Sophistry. Indulging in taste, letting the mind chase after things—that is the lower path."

"No, no."

Shen Hui's smile did not fade. "When common folk eat, the food eats them—stuffed all day with no use of the mind. When a cultivator eats, they eat the food—absorbing essence, gathering energy, turning it to their own use. Both lift the chopsticks, but the intent is different."

Jingming pondered for a moment, as if weighing his words, but finally shook her head. "What you say seems to have some reason. But if everyone takes 'savoring' as their creed, wouldn't it drive people to indulge their desires and let loose?"

This time Shen Hui did not argue further. He withdrew his smile and nodded in acknowledgment. "Excess is as bad as deficiency. But the crux here is not the 'thing,' but the 'mind.' If Senior Sister met a true glutton, potbellied and tasteless in his eating, you would rightly rebuke him. But we merely seek vegetables that suit the palate and soup that is well-seasoned—why mock us with the word 'vulgar'?"

Jingming opened her mouth at this, but for a moment found no words.

Shen Hui unhurriedly picked up a strand of shepherd's purse, examining it closely. "The sages said: 'Every joint and grain of the body has its spirit.' On the tongue are eight thousand four hundred taste buds, and in each taste bud dwells a food god. If Senior Sister cannot even distinguish the flavor of this dish of shepherd's purse, how can she know whether those eight thousand four hundred food gods are joyful or sorrowful?"

"You're twisting the scriptures," Jingming retorted.

"Then let me speak of something not twisted."

Shen Hui put the shepherd's purse into his mouth, chewed it carefully, and swallowed. "As it is said: 'Appetite and desire are nature.' This saying does not teach us to indulge our desires. It tells us the simplest truth: eating and drinking are part of human nature."

"Where nature exists, desire exists. True cultivation is not about extinguishing emotions and desires, but about facing desire while still maintaining clarity and restraint."

He paused, his tone turning serious. "The body is the raft that crosses the river, the vessel that carries the Way. If you blindly suppress desire, you will lack substance and cannot weather the storms. If you accept everything without discrimination, you will be overloaded and risk sinking the boat."

Jingming listened to these words, staring fixedly at the two dishes, silent for a long time.

The others also could not help widening their eyes.

Whether in surprise at Jingming's silence, or in wonder that Shen Hui could speak such words.

After a long while, Jingming finally spoke, her tone subdued. "I have cultivated on Deer Rest Mountain for over twenty years, thinking I had seen through many things. Hearing Junior Brother's words today, I realize..."

"Realize what?" Shen Hui smiled, picking up the thread. "Realize that the smoke and fire of the mortal world is also a great medicine?"

Jingming was slightly startled, then nodded.

She looked at the dishes on the table, hesitated for a moment, then finally extended her chopsticks, picked up a slice of mushroom, and brought it to her mouth.

The mushroom cracked between her teeth—salty, fresh, crisp, tender, and with a faint, elusive sweetness slowly melting on her tongue.

Jingming closed her eyes, feeling those eight thousand four hundred food gods rejoicing and leaping on her tongue.

"How is it?" Shen Hui asked.

Jingming opened her eyes, a faint smile rising at the corners of her mouth.

"The heat is just right."

The laughter from the dining hall had long since faded.

Jingming returned to her own room in the West Courtyard, lit the oil lamp, and sat down at the desk.

She picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, wanting to write a few characters to steady her mind.

The brush tip touched the paper, blooming into a small blot of ink. After a pause, her wrist turned lightly, and she wrote four characters:

"Clear mind, few desires."

These were the four words she had held as her guiding principle for over twenty years of cultivation.

But looking at them now, they felt somewhat jarring.

She recalled Shen Hui's words at the dinner table, remembered her own hesitation when picking up the mushroom, remembered that burst of umami flavor blooming on her tongue... and the joy it brought.

She closed her eyes, then picked up the brush again and wrote:

"To be free of vulgarity is the bone of an immortal; to be full of feeling is the heart of a Buddha."

These were words her master had spoken while debating the Way with Master Duowen of Bright Moon Nunnery—the first line from her master, the second from Master Duowen's reply.

At the time, she had not thought deeply, taking it as mere repartee. But writing it now, every character seemed to strike at her.

She stopped the brush, looked at the two lines, and after a long moment, added two more lines of her own insight:

"Seek the Way at the bottom of the bowl, not in judging the vulgar on the tip of the tongue."

Having written this, she set down the brush and let out a soft sigh.

Suddenly, a faint rustling sound came from outside the window.

Jingming looked up to see a weasel cat leap in through the window lattice, landing lightly on the desk and crouching beside the page she had just written.

The cat's fur was glossy, its eyes glinting an eerie green in the lamplight.

It lowered its head to glance at the words on the paper, then raised its gaze to Jingming.

"This little junior brother of yours is rather interesting."

Jingming narrowed her eyes, staring coldly at it.

The weasel cat acted as if it hadn't noticed her expression, simply licking its paw and speaking again at a leisurely pace:

"To be safe, it's best to clean him up properly, to avoid any unforeseen trouble."

Having shooed away Fifth Senior Brother, who had offered to help, Shen Hui stacked the bowls and dishes, carried them to the water trough in the courtyard, scooped up cold water, and slowly washed them under the moonlight.

The mountain night was eerily quiet.

From afar, an occasional unknown bird call drifted through the dense forest, adding a layer of deep strangeness.

As he washed the dishes, his mind still churned over the words from dinner: next spring, follow the master down the mountain?

Was it to slay demons and protect the land?

It probably wouldn't be easy. He'd have to ask for details tomorrow. If there was danger, he'd need to practice that spell of his more.

His hands kept moving, but in his mind, he summoned the interface to float before his eyes.

Minor Five Elements Art: Fire Control (Beginner)

After his initial breakthrough, he hadn't had time to examine it closely. Now, as the interface unfolded, two lines of text immediately entered his consciousness.

He studied it carefully and found he had two paths to choose from.

The first was an external method, called Ghost Fiend.

This external path didn't rely on enlightenment, but on offerings.

It used one's own blood essence as a guide, nurturing a Ghost Fiend in the heart.

Normally, half the mind was needed to pacify it, while the other half focused on cultivation.

When fighting, releasing the seal would cause the Ghost Fiend to ignite "Fiend Fire," pouncing on enemies with overwhelming dominance.

This method specialized in burning the physical body, able to scorch the ground into smoke, melt metal, and turn stone to slag. But the practitioner had to constantly guard against the Ghost Fiend's backlash.

The second was an internal method, called Heart Lamp.

This internal path relied on nothing external, only refining the heart itself.

Cultivation began by sealing the five senses, visualizing an ancient bronze lamp in the mind. Normally, half the mind was needed to refine the lamp, while the other half focused on cultivation.

When fighting, one only had to cast their own seven emotions and six desires into it, stirring the enemy's Heartfire, burning their soul and refining their spirit—insidious and vicious.

This method excelled at burning yin spirits and ghostly souls, making them feel as if plunged into a boiling cauldron, suffering unbearably. Yet the practitioner risked madness and self-immolation.

This... which path to choose?

Both were immensely powerful, but both seemed to come with flaws.

Shen Hui was still thinking when the bowl in his hand suddenly stopped.

In the corner of his eye, something seemed to move.

He turned his head and saw a faint light seeping through the kitchen window. The light flickered, as if something was dancing.

But the fire in the kitchen had long gone out.

Shen Hui put down the bowl, wiped his hands, and crept quietly back to the kitchen.

He pushed open the half-closed wooden door. Inside was pitch black, except for a red glow flickering from the direction of the stove.

He stepped closer and looked carefully.

There, crouching in the stove, was a tiny, fire-red little figure!

The figure was only the size of a palm, formed entirely from leaping flames. Its features were indistinct, just a rough humanoid outline.

The Little Red Man huddled in the center of the stove, curled up as if very cold, the glow coming from its own body.

Shen Hui froze.

What the hell was this thing?

The little fire figure seemed to sense someone approaching. Suddenly, it looked up, "staring" in Shen Hui's direction.

Man and flame stared at each other in the darkness.

After a long moment, the little fire figure stirred, stood up from the stove, and wobbled a couple of steps.

Then, it stretched out two thin, fiery arms, slowly reaching toward Shen Hui.

This... it actually looked kind of cute.

But the next second, that rough little head revealed its true face.

Red skin, a single eye, a mouth full of fangs—like a demon.

The stare lasted no more than an instant.

The Crimson Imp's face shed all its former innocence.

The red skin wrinkled, a single eye split open in the center of its face, fangs bared savagely—not a trace of its once-cute appearance remained.

Its body shrank abruptly, then lunged forward in a flash, nothing but a streak of red.

Shen Hui had no time to react—only felt a searing pain on his face.

The little creature had latched onto his face with hands and feet, claws digging deep into flesh, burning like a branding iron.

"Ah—!"

Shen Hui couldn't help but fall backward, his back slamming hard against the ground.

The imp perched on his face, its single eye staring straight into his, meeting his gaze (three eyes in all), its mouth splitting wide to reveal a row of fine, sharp teeth.

Then it shoved a claw into his mouth, as if searching for something.

Shen Hui's scream turned into a muffled groan.

A scorched smell billowed from his mouth. In the midst of the agony, he clenched his jaw tight.

With a crack, the tiny arm was bitten clean off.

A flicker of surprise passed through the Crimson Imp's single eye, then turned into raging fury.

It released his face. From the broken stump, flames surged wildly, and in an instant, a new arm grew back—thicker and stronger than before.

First, it slapped Shen Hui across the face with that new hand. Then, with both claws, it pried his jaws apart.

It then hurled itself forward, diving into Shen Hui's mouth, forcing its way down his throat, and into his chest and abdomen.

Shen Hui could no longer scream.

He only felt a torrent of molten copper and iron scraping down his throat, descending all the way. Wherever it passed, his organs sizzled and hissed.

He wanted to vomit but couldn't; he wanted to cry out but no sound came. He could only let the fire rampage through his body.

Then, the fire stopped at his heart.

It reached out a claw, seized the faint spark of Heartfire in Shen Hui's chest, and swallowed it in one gulp.

Shen Hui's eyes rolled back. His whole body seemed to have its spine ripped out.

After devouring the Heartfire, the little fiend's form swelled instantly, its flames burning even brighter.

It circled once inside Shen Hui's body, as if deciding the shell was now useless. Instead of retreating the way it came, it swung both claws, tearing at Shen Hui's heart and abdomen, trying to burst out through his chest.

Shen Hui's insides were ablaze. His belly felt like it was being ripped open from within.

But at this critical moment between life and death, he gradually grew calm.

That calm was strange.

It was as if his soul had been pulled from his body, hovering in midair, coldly watching the man writhing and screaming on the ground below.

He looked at the little fiend nearly tearing through his chest, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

"I have no grievance with you, yet you devour my Heartfire and take my life. Since that's the case, I'll fight to the bitter end—neither of us walks away!"

He focused his mind and began to fully visualize the "Heart Lamp" method.

In an instant, amid the chaos inside him, a blue lamp condensed.

Its base was ancient, its body mottled, and the Lamp Wick sat empty.

Shen Hui reached out his right hand, veins bulging, grabbed the little fiend that was almost bursting from his chest, and slammed it hard against the ancient lamp at his heart!

A piercing shriek erupted from the fiend's fanged mouth. Sensing danger, it struggled frantically, claws flailing, trying to break free.

But Shen Hui held on with all his might.

He bit down until blood foamed at his lips, pouring every ounce of his will into pinning the little fiend to the Lamp Wick.

The fiend's body began to burn.

The Heart Lamp's fire was of a yang-harmonious nature; the Fire Ghost's body was of yin-sha nature. When the two met, it was like throwing ice shards into boiling oil.

The fiend screamed and thrashed, its flames flickering—now blazing red, now burning ghostly blue.

Shen Hui was burning too.

The agony of yin and yang clashing was a hundred times worse than being torn apart by the fiend.

It was like being thrown into a furnace, melted into molten iron, then fished out and tossed into an ice cellar, frozen into a block of ice.

Melted and frozen, frozen and melted.

Over and over, as if walking through the eighteen levels of hell again and again.

But he refused to let go, even at the cost of his life.

Soon.

The fiend's struggles grew weaker. Its flames gradually steadied, no longer flickering.

At the Lamp Wick, a small flame burned quietly.

And within that flame, a writhing ghostly figure could still be vaguely seen.

Shen Hui collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath.

He was drenched in sweat from head to toe, his whole body as if freshly pulled from water.

But he paid no mind to that, only staring fixedly at the Heart Lamp in his chest, at the motionless ghostly figure within the Lamp Wick.

Did it work?

It seemed he had refined a wild Ghost Fiend into a Heart Lamp wick.

Then again, that should have been a Ghost Fiend, right?

Too bad he was already disemboweled and about to die, with no way to verify it anymore.