And apart from Wen Xu-Xu, Chen Zui-Zui, and his teachers and elders, no one else would treat him so well without asking for anything in return.
At the very least, I can't hold them back, Bian Chunchou told himself. I can't think in black and white. I'm sure I can find a balance. This is my path, and I can't run from it.
By the time he reached the courtyard gate, his steps had finally grown much lighter.
"That smells wonderful. Why are you the one cooking..."
Chun Wangshui had his sleeves rolled up and tied high. Ladle in hand, he looked ready to command an army. "Who else would it be? Name one disciple from your Yonglu Mountain who looks like they can cook."
Bian Chunchou refused to concede. He drew himself up. "Me! I opened a restaurant at the foot of Yonglu Mountain!"
"Oh, really?" Chun Wangshui said. "Then why don't you smell like a food cultivator?" This fellow's mind was simple, and so was his soul. One glance was enough to see straight through him. Of course, he was still a little more complicated than that other fellow surnamed Chen. Chun Wangshui couldn't help wondering: was this Wen Xu's standard for making friends?
Hmm. Put that way, I really am a clever person in Fellow Daoist Wen's eyes.
"Who says you have to be a food cultivator to cook? Don't look down on me!" Bian Chunchou promptly rolled up his sleeves and joined in. "Just wait. I'm going to show you what I can do today!"
The kitchen, cold for eight hundred years, suddenly hosted a "Battle of the Kitchen Kings." The other Yonglu Mountain disciples hemmed and haw, not daring to comment. Only Chen Zui spoke his mind:
"Are those two fighting in there?"
Wen Xu