Chapter 9: Morning Meals and Silent Understandings
The night teaches a simple lesson: plans are like the stars—countless, bright, and utterly useless when it’s cloudy. That’s how I felt as I stared at the courtyard under the moonlight, offering Mei Yun a room. She accepted without hesitation, and I watched her walk to one of the side rooms. It felt odd.
“ Maybe , She’s just staying for the night,” I told myself as I locked the main door. But a small voice in my head added, And yet it feels like she belongs here.
I woke up to the soft light of dawn filtering through my window, accompanied by the faint chirping of birds. Stretching, I glanced toward the room where Mei Yun had stayed. It was empty.
“She must’ve left early,” I thought, shrugging it off. It wasn’t unusual for people to be gone by sunrise—especially cultivators who valued their morning routines. Still, I couldn’t shake a tiny flicker of disappointment.
“Well, no use dwelling on it,” I muttered as I headed to the kitchen.
Today’s task was clear: a new dish. Eating the same meal every day might keep you alive, but it’s also a surefire way to kill your mood. With the courtyard’s self-sustaining magic, I had all the tools and ingredients at my disposal. A quick glance outside revealed the bubbling spring, its crystal-clear waters reflecting the morning sun. It was more of a pond, really, and it added a serene charm to the place.
Behind the courtyard, I noticed farm fields that seemed ripe for planting. “I’ll deal with that later,” I told myself. For now, my focus was on the kitchen.
The kitchen was modest but perfect—stone counters, wooden shelves, and an array of tools that seemed to fit in my hands like old friends. I started by examining the herbs Mei Yun had left behind yesterday. There was a mix of aromatic leaves, delicate flowers, and even some roots with faintly glowing veins.
I decided on a hearty herbal broth with crispy rolls on the side. The broth would be earthy and nourishing, while the rolls would add a satisfying crunch.
I chopped the herbs finely, their scents mingling in the air—peppery, sweet, and slightly tangy. The roots, when sliced, oozed a golden sap that shimmered in the light. Tossing everything into a pot of spring water, I let it simmer over a low flame.
Meanwhile, I prepared the rolls. The dough was soft and pliable, speckled with crushed seeds for texture. Rolling it out, I filled it with a mixture of mashed beans, finely diced vegetables, and a sprinkle of salt. Folding and sealing them, I set them to fry until they were golden and crisp.
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The aroma that filled the air was intoxicating. The broth was rich and fragrant, its flavors deepened by the slow cooking process. The rolls crackled softly as I plated them, their golden crusts glistening with a faint sheen of oil.
Just as I was about to take a bite, a knock echoed through the tavern. I paused, chopsticks halfway to my mouth, and sighed. “Of course. The moment I sit down to eat.”
Setting the bowl aside, I made my way to the door. Standing there was Mei Yun, carrying a bundle of fresh herbs.
“Good morning,” I said, smiling. “Out herb-picking already?”
She nodded, her expression a mix of hesitation and resolve. “I thought I’d repay your kindness,” she said, holding out the bundle.
It took me a moment to realize what this meant. “So… does this mean you’re staying?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “If you’ll have me.”
“Well, welcome to the team,” I said, stepping aside to let her in. “Oh, and since you’re here, care to join me for breakfast? I just made something fresh.
From her perspective, who would refuse a meal prepared by someone she believed to be a hidden master? She nodded, and I set another bowl and pair of chopsticks on the table.
“Hope you like it,” I said, serving her a generous portion of the broth and a couple of rolls. “It’s a simple dish, but it should be hearty enough to start the day.”
She picked up a spoon, her movements careful, as if the food might evaporate if she wasn’t gentle. The moment she tasted it, her eyes widened.
From the first sip of broth, Mei Yun felt as though she’d been transported to another realm. The flavors were rich yet balanced, each herb adding its own note to the symphony. The warmth spread through her, not just physically but spiritually, as if the dish held a resonance with the natural world.
The rolls, crispy on the outside and soft within, provided a delightful contrast. They were more than just food—they were an experience. Every bite seemed to unveil a layer of insight, a glimpse into a world of harmony and balance.
As she ate, Mei Yun felt her cultivation stir. Unknowingly, her spiritual energy began to circulate more smoothly, and before she realized it, she had advanced two levels.
From my side of the table, she looked like someone savoring the best meal of her life. Her expressions shifted between awe, contentment, and something akin to reverence.
“You okay?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She blinked, snapping out of her trance. “Yes. This is… incredible,” she said softly.
“Glad you like it,” I said, grinning. “The rolls turned out better than I expected.”
In her mind, she was drawing her own conclusions. To her, this was no ordinary meal, and I was no ordinary man. But to me, it was just breakfast.
As we finished eating, I leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “Well, since you’re staying, we’ll need to sort out a few things. Tasks, schedules, that sort of thing. But for now, feel free to settle in.”
Mei Yun nodded, her gaze lingering on the empty bowl. I could tell she wanted to say something but chose to stay silent.
The morning stretched on, the sun climbing higher into the sky. The tavern felt alive in a way it hadn’t before, and I couldn’t help but feel that this was the start of something new.
Sometimes, life has a way of surprising you. And sometimes, it’s just a matter of opening the door at the right moment.
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