(I added 2,000 words to the previous chapter. Don't miss them, loves.)
Ye Hui clearly still had an old injury in his right leg; whenever he walked faster, he limped noticeably. As he carried the first bucket to the kitchen door, it swayed in midair, but he held his back rigid and stubbornly kept even a single drop from spilling until he poured the water into the kitchen's large vat with a splash.
The second bucket.
The third bucket.
After three trips back and forth, his breathing had grown noticeably heavier, and hurrying had made his steps unsteady, yet he still said nothing.
He did not stop, nor did he dare to. In front of an old monster whose cultivation was clearly terrifying and whose depths were unfathomable, Ye Hui did not yet dare gamble on how much tolerance he had for a servant.
The twenty-year-old "old monster," Yun Qing, simply leaned lazily against the kitchen doorframe, arms folded, watching him in silence.
After a moment, he drawled, "Can you cook?"
Ye Hui's thin back stiffened slightly. He turned, met Yun Qing's deep gaze, and nodded.
"Yes."
"Excellent." Smiling, Yun Qing pointed at the stove and put the invalid to work without the slightest qualm. "There's rice in the sack, and a few handfuls of greens left from last night and two eggs in the cupboard. Go on, then. I'm hungry."
The Eldest Young Master of the Yun Clan in the Immortal World only knew how to refine Grain-Repelling Pills. But the Yun Qing of his previous life had, of course, known how to cook.
It was just that, in the art of cooking, an immense gulf lay between edible and delicious. Otherwise, he would not have gone to mooch wontons off Liu Niang every day.
He was Shopkeeper Yun