Eventually, with Lin Mei’s patient guidance, the camp was set up. Tian Hao, still trying to regain some semblance of dignity, dusted off his robes and, with a determined glint in his eyes, insisted on 'preparing' a special meal.

He pulled out a small stash of exotic spices—remnants of Fatty Wu’s culinary arsenal—and declared, “Tonight, we feast! I’ve got just the right mix to make even spirit beasts jealous!”

Jiuwei, resuming her perch on his shoulder, rolled her eyes. “As if you could pull off anything more complex than boiling water, mortal,” she quipped, though there was amusement in her voice. Her tail curled around her tiny feet as she settled in to watch his culinary attempts.

Undeterred by their skepticism, Tian Hao skewered the last of the raw exotic meats he’d been saving, rubbing them liberally with the fragrant spices, and set them over the fire. The enticing aroma soon filled the air, drawing curious glances from the others.

“See? Not so bad, is it?” Tian Hao said, a smug grin spreading across his face as the meat sizzled over the flames. He took a deep breath, savoring the aroma, picturing Fatty Wu beaming with pride at his culinary prowess, even if it was just a simple skewer of roasted meat.

The peace didn’t last long. A faint rustling from the nearby underbrush, initially barely noticeable, grew steadily louder.

Lin Mei looked up, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the darkening forest.

“What’s that noise?”

Before anyone could react, the underbrush rustled violently, twigs snapping under the weight what sounded like an oncoming stampede.

A group of wild animals—a mix of hungry spirit foxes, their eyes gleaming with a fierce hunger in the firelight, and nosy spirit raccoons, their bandit-like masks adding to their mischievous aura—burst from the trees with an almost comical urgency.

The musky scent of the forest mixed with the sharp tang of animal fur as they charged, their eyes fixated on the roasting meat, and their growls and chitters filled the night air. It almost seemed like they were arguing over who got to have the best bite, with the spirit foxes snapping at the raccoons, and the raccoons chittering indignantly as they pushed each other aside.

Tian Hao could hardly believe how something as simple as cooking meat had caused such an uproar, his exasperation growing with each frantic snarl. "All this over a few skewers?" he thought, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity.

The sudden intrusion turned the camp into chaos. An unexpected storm crashing down upon them.

“Seriously?!” Tian Hao yelped, barely managing to snatch the meat from the fire before a particularly bold spirit raccoon leapt at it, its claws extended, its eyes gleaming with greed.

Yu Xian, her expression flickering between amusement and exasperation, drew her sword, glaring at the encroaching creatures. For a brief moment, she considered striking them down, but the animals were clearly not an actual threat. Instead, she swung her sword in broad, controlled arcs to scare the animals away, her movements fluid and precise.

“I knew this was a bad idea!” she muttered.

Lin Mei, her earlier skepticism replaced by amusement, burst into laughter, swatting a particularly nosy fox away from their tent with a stick.

“This is what you get for boasting, Tian Hao!”

Jiuwei, sensing the impending chaos, hopped off Tian Hao’s shoulder, scampering out of the fray to observe from a safe distance, her tiny nose twitching with disdain.

“I will not participate in this… undignified scramble,” she declared haughtily, though there was a hint of amusement in her golden eyes as she watched the scene unfold.

The camp quickly descended into chaos—a symphony of frantic shouts, flailing limbs, and the indignant squeaks and squawks of startled spirit animals.

Wei Lo, his usual calm demeanor transforming into an amalgam of surprise and annoyance, attempted to fend off two particularly curious raccoons. He waved his arms frantically, shooing them away with exaggerated gestures.

"Why are you two so determined? Go find someone else to bother, I don't even have any meat!" he grumbled, trying to keep his balance as one raccoon grabbed onto his robe. "This is not how I imagined my night going!" he muttered, his frustration growing as the raccoons seemed completely unbothered by his efforts.

Meanwhile, Tian Hao, clutching his precious meat skewer, ran in circles with a little train of animals chasing after him—spirit foxes snapping at his heels and raccoons skittering right behind.

"Why are you all so obsessed with this meat?!" he yelled, glancing back in disbelief, his voice tinged with desperation. "It's just a skewer! Can't you find something else to chase?" He waved the skewer over his head, hoping to shake off his pursuers, but they only seemed more determined. "Alright, alright! Fine! Here, have a piece!" he cried, tearing off chunks of the meat and flinging them over his shoulder.

The animals momentarily paused to squabble over the scraps, giving Tian Hao a fleeting sense of hope. "Please, just appreciate the seasoning! I worked hard on this!" he pleaded, though he doubted any of them were listening. Each discarded piece felt like a small tragedy, and he couldn't help but mourn the loss of his culinary effort as he kept running.

Lin Mei, unable to contain herself, laughed so hard she almost dropped her stick, tears streaming down her face, her eyes bright with amusement as the scene descended into absurdity.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of frantic activity and increasingly ridiculous attempts at culinary defense, the group managed to drive the scavenging animals back into the woods.

Wei Lo had ended up with raccoon fur stuck to his robe, Yu Xian was left holding a half-chewed stick in bewilderment, and Lin Mei was laughing so hard she could barely stand straight. Tian Hao, panting heavily, had smudges of dirt on his face, and a particularly stubborn spirit fox had left teeth marks on his boot.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The fire still crackled merrily, though most of the meat was either scattered across the clearing or had been snatched away by the more successful spirit foxes and raccoons. Tian Hao looked around at the carnage of their failed dinner attempt, letting out a long sigh of resignation. "This," he muttered, gesturing at the chaos around him, "is why I prefer the comforts of civilization. Next time, we are eating dried jerky and calling it gourmet."

Tian Hao collapsed onto the ground, panting heavily, his face flushed from the exertion.

The others stared at Tian Hao, their expressions ranging from disbelief to bemusement.

Lin Mei raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with dry sarcasm, "Only you, Tian Hao, could turn grilling some meat into a full-blown spectacle."

Wei Lo nodded in agreement, his eyes still wide, "Seriously, how did you manage to cause this much chaos over some skewers?"

“Fine…” he conceded, his voice tinged with mock resignation, “maybe I overdid it with the spices.”

Lin Mei, still chuckling softly, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, nodded.

“Just a little,” she replied, her voice gentle. She sat down beside him, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“You know, for someone who claims to want a comfortable life, you sure bring a lot of trouble wherever you go.”

Tian Hao sighed, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Guess it’s just part of my charm,” he said, his usual bravado starting to return.

Jiuwei, resuming her perch on Tian Hao's shoulder, huffed, her tiny form radiating indignation despite her earlier amusement. Her tail, however, wrapped around his neck for balance, and for a brief moment, her gaze softened as if she were starting to grow accustomed to the foolish mortal's antics—though she'd never admit it.

“Charm? If that’s what you call it, then I fear for the fate of this world.”

Despite the chaos and the loss of his carefully seasoned meat, Tian Hao couldn’t help but feel a sense of… contentment. He’d faced danger, he’d laughed, he’d shared a moment of unexpected camaraderie with his companions—even with the slightly judgmental Jiuwei and the cold Yu Xian. He’d even managed to make Lin Mei laugh, albeit unintentionally, with his… unique culinary skills and mostly accidental spirit-beast herding prowess.

He hoped that the shared laughter, even if just for a brief moment, had helped to ease the burden she carried. Whatever had cast that dark shroud over her since that night at the outpost, Tian Hao wished that this small bit of joy might have lightened her heart, if only slightly.

As he drifted off to sleep, the scent of woodsmoke and the soft rustle of leaves in the wind lulling him into a peaceful slumber, Tian Hao couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps this journey wasn’t so bad after all. Even 'exile' could have its… pleasurable moments. Especially when those moments included having a beautiful cultivator by his side, and an ancient spirit fox sitting on his shoulder.

Their journey back to the Skyward Lotus Sect was far less eventful than the journey out. The path was calm, with only a few distant sightings of spirit beasts, none of which became aggressive. Not once did they have to draw their weapons.

Tian Hao couldn’t help but be suspicious, his gaze frequently flicking towards Jiuwei, whose only response was a sly, knowing grin that hinted she might have had something to do with their peaceful passage. Despite his curiosity, she remained silent, her little foxy smirk refusing to divulge any secrets.

Finally, the sight of the distant Skyward Lotus Sect's main gate came into view. Its ornate carvings of blooming lotuses gleamed in the morning sunlight, rising out of the mist that settled among the hills. The sight filled Tian Hao with a sense of relief, as if the gates themselves were welcoming him back to familiarity.

After weeks of hardship, spirit beast encounters, and nights spent sleeping on the cold, unforgiving ground, he felt like a weathered husk, barely recognizable compared to the pampered, hedonistic young master who had set out for the Jade Serpent Outpost.

This Tian Hao had experienced both sides of what ‘karmic balance’ might truly mean, and the feeling lingered, like the unpleasant taste of the rations they'd been forced to rely on since the unfortunate end of his prized meat stash.

As they walked towards those grand gates, now, Tian Hao thought, perhaps even the most austere disciple might find enlightenment after enough nights spent on the uncaring, cold hard mountain ground.

Lin Mei, her expression unreadable, walked beside him, the weight of her own secrets still casting a shadow over their shared experiences. She wondered if Tian Hao had noticed the distance between them, if he could sense the walls she was trying to put up. It was a struggle—sometimes, the old closeness slipped through, especially during their playful banter.

She found herself caught between the warmth of the moments where she teased him — like when she had helped with the tent — and the cold resolve she needed to maintain her barriers. Each smile felt like a mask, but some of them were real, lingering just enough to remind her of what she was trying to hold back. A tightening in her chest made it harder each time she let her guard down—those fleeting moments of vulnerability were both comforting and terrifying, a constant reminder of what she had to betray.

Tian Hao, for his part, wondered why this journey, had also seemed to create a divide between them—something that now seemed impossible to bridge. He couldn't quite grasp why Lin Mei's demeanor kept shifting, as if she were torn between her old playful self and this distant, guarded version. It felt like every time she put her guard up, even for a fleeting moment, the warmth he cherished was replaced with a cold, impenetrable wall, leaving him struggling to understand what had changed.

He glanced over, a questioning look in his eyes.

“Are you alright, Mei Mei?” he asked, his voice laced with an almost desperate need to reconnect. “You’ve been… quiet since we left the outpost.”

Lin Mei’s forced smile softened slightly at his question, though a shadow still lingered in her eyes.

“Just tired, Tian Hao,” she replied.

As much as he wanted to know more, the worry in her voice made the words cut even deeper. He wanted to deny that he was losing the connection they had built, but he felt powerless to stop it, unsure of how to shift the direction of their drifting relationship.

He’d grown accustomed to her near-constant presence—her teasing banter, her quiet strength—a welcome contrast to Yu Xian’s disapproval and Wei Lo’s amused observations. He’d found comfort in their shared laughter, their whispered conversations around the campfire, and their quiet moments of mutual appreciation for a meal—even when that meal was just rations shared with a friend.

Now, faced with the reality of her quiet, her avoidance, he felt an almost unbearable weight settle in his gut. It felt as though he’d been returned not to his sect, but to his former, far less meaningful existence—an echo of the solitary loneliness of his previous life.

He desperately wanted to ask her again about what she hadn't said in the outpost—but the way her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes made him hesitate. He didn't press the issue, respecting her need for space, even though the distance between them felt increasingly like an uncrossable chasm. Each step back towards the sect felt heavier than the arduous paths of their 'exile'. Lin Mei's secret weighed on him more than even his own foolishness with Zhao Fei—the very thing that had landed him in this situation. Not that he regretted it.

Caught in his distracted thoughts, Tian Hao found himself lagging behind the others. He was too lost in his worries about Lin Mei, the uncertainty gnawing at him, to notice how much distance had grown between him and the group. It wasn't until Jiuwei spoke that he snapped back to the present, realizing just how far he had fallen behind.

“Do try to keep up, mortal. Unless, of course, you'd prefer making new friends with the forest creatures you so benevolently fed,” Jiuwei sniffed, her voice dripping with mock pity. Her golden eyes softened, while a sly smirk played across her snout. The casual disdain in her words only seemed to amplify Tian Hao’s unease, and he couldn't help but groan inwardly at the fluffy fox's relentless jabs.