The girl's tone was tense, yet her voice was inherently soft and mellow. Even when delivering commands, it lacked conviction.
After a long pause, Pei Bu Chen let out a hoarse chuckle. "Where did you learn to demand repayment for favors, shimei?"
Ning Xi's small, round face remained stern. "Will Da Shi Xiong agree or not?"
Pei Bu Chen chuckled softly and muttered, "What 'them'? That's the acting head of the He Lian Family, the former family head's father. How can you casually refer to him as 'them'?"
Ning Xi seethed with indignation.
How ridiculous! This was the family that despised mortal bloodlines the most, yet the former family head, He Lian Yunzhao, had married a pure mortal—Helian Qingyu—as his husband.
She had nothing against Uncle Yu, but she couldn't stand the He Lian Family's arrogant attitude. How dare they bully Da Shi Xiong!
Trembling with rage, she found no outlet for her anger. The man before her was like a snow sculpture, seemingly devoid of temper. Being wooden-tongued herself, she struggled to even curse when the moment called for it.
After a long while, her face flushed crimson as she mimicked the swear words she'd overheard from Wei Shu, gritting out, "Damn them!"
Pei Bu Chen snorted dismissively, feigning sternness. "Watch your language!"
Ning Xi ignored him. Having long seen through his bluster, she knew he wouldn't truly lose his temper with her. She directly reached out to pull him.
He didn't budge.
Pei Bu Chen remained noncommittal and changed the subject. "When did you arrive, shimei?"
"Fifteen minutes ago."
"So you heard everything?"
He was referring to his conversation with He Lian Ting Chuan. Ning Xi hesitated briefly before admitting it.
Pei Bu Chen sighed but didn't comment on her eavesdropping. He was always tolerant toward his younger martial siblings. "Let's go, shimei. It's freezing, and your injuries haven't healed. Don't catch a cold."
As he spoke, he brushed the snow off her shoulders.
"Doesn't Da Shi Xiong have injuries too?"
Ning Xi pressed her lips together, meeting Pei Bu Chen's eyes as her voice unconsciously rose. "You couldn't have recovered so quickly from your fight with Yan Ye! You know how cold it is—so why kneel here?"
Pei Bu Chen raised an eyebrow in surprise, a hint of laughter at the corner of his eyes. "Is shimei angry?"
Ning Xi grew increasingly bold, daring to glare at him—if only for a fleeting moment. "Da Shi Xiong is so irresponsible!"
Pei Bu Chen finally laughed heartily, clutching the small hand warmer Ning Xi had given him. His laughter shook the snow from his hair. "You're the last person who should be saying that!"
Before Ning Xi could pull at him again, he stood up on his own.
"This shixiong is fine. Let's go back to Baiyao Garden and see if we can brew some ginger tea."
His legs had gone numb from kneeling, causing him to stagger slightly. Fortunately, Ning Xi dutifully acted as a human crutch, supporting him as they walked toward Baiyao Garden.
Upon arriving, Pei Bu Chen exchanged a few words with the approaching medical cultivator before leading Ning Xi into the small kitchen.
Since it wasn't mealtime, the kitchen was empty except for two or three stoves still burning.
Pei Bu Chen skillfully chopped firewood, lit the stove, scrubbed the pot, sliced ginger, and boiled water.
Ning Xi had initially wanted to step forward to help, but after discovering her own clumsiness—not only failing to assist but nearly cutting her own finger—she quietly retreated.
She fetched a small wooden stool and sat by the doorstep, resting her chin in her hands as she watched Da Shi Xiong busily at work.
Pei Bu Chen turned and saw her sitting there, pink and pale like a glutinous rice ball. His eyes crinkled as he walked over to her: "Shi Mei has nothing to do? Perfect, help me tie my apron."
Ning Xi carefully tied a bow behind his back.
The apron, likely left behind by some female cultivator, was a vibrant bean-paste pink adorned with tiny floral patterns. It looked peculiar draped over the cold, ethereal figure of Pei Bu Chen, yet… there was a strange harmony to it.
After working for a while, Pei Bu Chen emerged carrying a bowl of ginger soup.
The liquid was golden, steaming hot, and exuded a pungent sweetness. Ning Xi was made to drink a large bowl before Pei Bu Chen let her be. He then took a clean bowl and drank some himself.
Once the cold had been driven away, Ning Xi's numb, frozen limbs gradually warmed, and her dull senses finally returned—her stomach suddenly let out a loud "gurgle.""
Ning Xi: …
Pei Bu Chen glanced with a smile at his little shi mei's slowly reddening cheeks but said nothing more. Putting down the bowl, he resumed his busy work.
He took flour and a wooden basin from the cupboard, probably intending to make noodles.
Ning Xi felt embarrassed leaving Da Shi Xiong to work alone, so she stood up as well, wandering around the kitchen trying to find some ingredients to contribute.
To her surprise, she managed to dig out several bags of sun-dried Tianling lily roots.
Tianling lily has a sweet and neutral flavor, primarily used to treat evil qi, heart pain, and to replenish qi and benefit the middle*. Thus, Baiyao Garden always kept some in reserve.
As if she had found treasure, she clutched them and hurried over to Pei Bu Chen: "Da Shi Xiong, look what I found!"
Pei Bu Chen was kneading dough, his sleeves rolled up high. He turned his head toward her at the sound.
And so, she saw the abrupt scar on his left wrist.
Her excitement was doused as if by a bucket of ice and snow.
The water in the pot boiled over, the steam letting out a sharp whistle as the bubbling broth pushed against the wooden lid, causing it to knock lightly against the iron pot's edge with a soft clatter.
Pei Bu Chen nonchalantly pulled down his sleeve: "What did Shi Mei find?"
Ning Xi didn't move.
He had to walk over himself, taking the packet of lily roots from her hands and giving her a slight smile: "Thank you, Shi Mei."
Ning Xi frowned deeply, opening her mouth but unsure what to ask.
She fell silent, and Pei Bu Chen wasn't one for many words either, so the room grew quiet for a moment.
Pei Bu Chen turned back as if nothing had happened, continuing to knead the dough, crushing the lily roots, sifting them, and mixing them into the dough for soup noodles. The cleaver tapped rhythmically on the cutting board with a "thump-thump" sound.
Ning Xi stood still for a while before eventually returning to her small stool.
This time, she didn't rest her chin in her hands but instead twisted her fingers, watching Da Shi Xiong's apron-clad back with deep concern.
Back when Ning Xi was wandering the mortal world, she had seen scars like that before. There was a mentally unstable female beggar; people nearby said her child had been taken by a wild boar in winter. When they found the child, only half remained. The mother fainted on the spot upon seeing it and woke up insane, scratching her own wrists with blades during fits.
In those days, Ning Xi lived a precarious existence and dared not have much contact with the female beggar. She had only glimpsed her from afar a few times—the beggar curled up in a pile of fruit peels and garbage against the wall, flies buzzing around her. The exposed wrist was as thin and withered as dead wood, with curved scars of varying depths at the wrist.
However, Pei Bu Chen’s scars were somewhat different from the female beggar’s. The latter’s were horizontal, while Da Shi Xiong’s scars appeared as vertical strips, as if someone had once taken a sharp blade and meticulously sliced open the youth’s skin and flesh along the path of his blood vessels.
Though it was only a distant glance, Ning Xi could already imagine how painful that wound must have been and how much blood had been shed.
Was it left from battling a demon?
But what kind of demon would repeatedly leave wounds on the wrist?
Ning Xi sat in a daze for a while, feeling too unsettled, and got up to leave the small kitchen.
Pei Bu Chen happened to be carrying noodles and setting out bowls and chopsticks. Seeing her leave, he couldn’t help calling out, “Where are you going, Shimei?”
“Borrowing something from someone. I’ll be back soon!”
Pei Bu Chen sighed helplessly, like an old mother dealing with a playful, mischievous child, wiping his wet hands on his apron. “Come back early. It’s almost time to eat.”
True to her word, Ning Xi returned shortly, clutching a large paper package and tossing it onto the table with a rustle.
Pei Bu Chen glanced at it. “What’s this?”
“Shaoyin Muscle-Regenerating Scar-Removing Ointment.”
“Where did Shimei get this?”
“I know a shixiong who’s quite knowledgeable about skincare. I borrowed it from him.”
Actually, she had taken it directly. Unable to find Wei Shu, Ning Xi had sent him a message via the Jade Slip, but he seemed to have blocked her—there was no reply for a long time. She had no choice but to leave a few spirit stones in Wei Shu’s storage pavilion.
After all, Wei Shu had often taken Ning Xi’s things in the past. Occasionally retaliating in kind wasn’t too excessive.
Pei Bu Chen lightly tapped the jar of ointment with his fingertip, casually remarking, “This ointment is brimming with spiritual energy—it’s no ordinary item. It seems Shimei usually has a good relationship with that shixiong for him to lend you such a treasure so easily.”
Ning Xi briefly recalled how Wei Shu usually pointed at her with fingers adorned with bright red Kou Dan, her small face turning serious as she shook her head. “No, our relationship is terrible.”
Pei Bu Chen laughed. “Then why did Shimei go out to find this?”
Ning Xi: …
Was Da Shi Xiong really feigning ignorance?
He must have known she had seen the scars on his wrist earlier—how could he pretend so nonchalantly?
Ning Xi set the ointment on the table, trying to appear earnest. “I noticed the scars on Da Shi Xiong’s wrist and thought this ointment might help, so I brought it back. Would you like to try it, Shixiong?”
She wasn’t presumptuous enough to apply the ointment for Pei Bu Chen herself. He didn’t reject her goodwill, merely smiled and rolled up his sleeve.
As they passed the ointment jar, their fingertips brushed lightly.
It felt just like when she had grabbed his wrist before—cold and smooth, like a piece of chilled jade.
Perhaps intentionally concealing it, Pei Bu Chen’s wide sleeve drooped as he applied the ointment, covering most of his skin.
Realizing he likely didn’t want others to see his vulnerabilities, Ning Xi obediently averted her gaze.
She picked up her bamboo chopsticks and began slurping noodles, thinking to herself that Cong Zhou Shixiong was right—Da Shi Xiong really was concerned about saving face.
However, she was quickly distracted by the noodles in her mouth. It had to be said that Pei Bu Chen's culinary skills were truly exceptional. The previous bowl of ginger soup had already been brewed to perfection, but the current noodles were even better.
First, mushrooms and bamboo shoots were simmered into a broth, strained, and then shrimp and chicken broth were added. The mixture was simmered over low heat until it turned into a pure black soup. White lily root noodles, fluffy and mist-like, were added, and finally, a handful of bright green scallions and a golden-brown fried egg were sprinkled on top.
Ning Xi poked the fried egg with her chopsticks—it was still runny.
Baiyujing never mistreated its outer sect disciples, so Ning Xi was never given leftovers or cold food. However, nothing better was provided either—just ordinary items like pancakes and steamed buns, cheap and filling in large quantities.
After all, outer sect disciples weren't considered formal disciples, so the Dietary Cultivators in the kitchen wouldn't bother putting effort into their meals.
After applying the medicine, Pei Bu Chen noticed she was eating happily and picked up his chopsticks as well.
Outside, the snow had just stopped, and the sky had cleared. A lush cluster of lilies grew in the courtyard. Baiyujing's spiritual energy was so dense that flowers bloomed not according to the seasons but as they pleased.
Two clusters of fragrant lilies, a trellis of pink longspring flowers.
In the small kitchen, the stove fire burned vigorously, crackling as the wood burned.
Ning Xi slurped her noodles, her round little face flushed red from the stove's heat, her eyes curved into crescents as she praised Da Shi Xiong for making such delicious noodles.
Pei Bu Chen smiled and said that if there was a chance, he could make more for her to try.
"But, junior sister, you must keep my culinary skills a secret."
Ning Xi blinked.
"A gentleman stays away from the kitchen. It's not really appropriate for me to be skilled and fond of such things."
Ning Xi let out an "oh" but secretly pursed her lips.
Da Shi Xiong really had it tough—whether it was sewing or cooking, even a simple hobby had to be kept hidden.
After finishing the noodles, she insisted on seeing Da Shi Xiong back. However, the good mood she had maintained for less than half an hour vanished completely when she bumped into the person waiting at the door.
Under an ink-splattered paper umbrella, Helian Wei narrowed his peach blossom eyes, lost in thought as he stared at them.