Chapter Twelve: Hunger

“Huh? Why does this junior brother look so utterly depleted, nothing like the bearing of a cultivator from the Form and Essence Sect.”

“He looks a bit familiar... Ah, that’s right, isn’t he Zhou Xuanhong, the talk of the sect who just joined two days ago? The one whom the Sect Master accepted as a true disciple on his very first day?”

“It’s definitely Zhou Xuanhong. But I saw him yesterday in the library, and he seemed full of energy. What happened to him?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I was in the library yesterday too, and heard Old Mountain Baboon teasing him—apparently, this kid wants to cultivate the ‘Form and Essence Codex.’”

“The ‘Form and Essence Codex’?! No wonder. That technique demands incredibly high talent from its practitioners. We with yellow-grade aptitude shouldn’t even think about it, and even those with green-grade rarely dare to try. It’s not just slow to cultivate, but also very risky. Looking at him now, he must’ve suffered a lot last night. I just wonder if he’s gone silly from it.”

As dawn broke, Zhou Xuanhong walked along the sect’s main path, drawing countless glances and whispers from his fellow disciples. Every passerby turned for a second look—his current state and identity simply drew too much attention.

He was gaunt, skin bloodless, his steps unsteady, resembling not so much a man exhausted from debauchery as one who’d waged war on the pleasure streets for seven days and nights. The phrase ‘overindulgence’ didn’t suffice.

Only his eyes, now even brighter than before, revealed a trace of extraordinary spirit. Zhou Xuanhong paid no mind to others’ stares; right now, he was ravenous. Even the white cranes flying overhead made his mouth water.

He was starving. This emptiness and anemia left him so weak that any average mid-stage Qi Refining disciple could probably knock him down.

“What a wonderful smell!”

Catching a whiff of fish in the air, Zhou Xuanhong’s eyes gleamed with greed. He hurried off the main path and followed a side trail.

Past a jutting cliff ledge, at a little creek at the mountain’s foot, a pair of siblings—eleven or twelve years old—were roasting fish. Beside them, a pot simmered with unknown contents, a rich aroma wafting out.

Zhou Xuanhong’s fingers twitched, and saliva trickled from his mouth. Not at all embarrassed when the siblings looked his way, he wiped his mouth.

“Junior brother, junior sister, what are you cooking? It smells amazing. May I join you?”

The little boy eyed him warily but didn’t refuse. “If you don’t mind, senior brother, you’re welcome to share.”

“Thank you, junior brother!”

Thus began Zhou Xuanhong’s grand display of gluttony. Shamelessly, he sat beside the boy, took a skewer of roasted fish handed over by the girl, and dug in.

Delicious—perfect in color, fragrance, and taste. These two odd siblings even had a full set of cooking utensils, and an impressive array of seasonings.

The boy’s skill at the grill was outstanding. Zhou Xuanhong was certain that even the best chef in Luoshui City would be outclassed when it came to roasted fish!

As a cultivator, Zhou Xuanhong didn’t fear fish bones. He even crunched down the bones and tails—he was simply too hungry, and cultivators’ teeth could handle it.

Soon, the food in the pot was ready. The boy lifted the lid, and a wave of savory fragrance hit them. Zhou Xuanhong’s stomach growled loudly.

The boy gave him a strange look. How could this senior brother, after devouring six of their biggest fish, still look like he was starving?

In the pot was a stew of shrimp and crab. After the boy sprinkled in some wild onions, the three of them tucked in. The boy ate quickly but with normal manners; the girl ate delicately, like a proper young lady. Only Zhou Xuanhong disregarded all decorum, swallowing even shrimp and crab shells, and anything else he could manage—if his throat were wider, he might have gulped them down whole.

Before long, the entire pot was emptied, most of it finding its way into Zhou Xuanhong’s belly.

Zhou Xuanhong had to revise his earlier opinion: the boy’s culinary skills didn’t just surpass the best chef in Luoshui City—they utterly crushed him.

Even so, Zhou Xuanhong wasn’t full. He’d lost too much vital energy and blood last night; every muscle in his body was screaming for nourishment. It wasn’t spiritual energy depletion—this was a famine of blood and essence.

“Senior brother, if there’s nothing else, we need to head to the martial arena for Master Xu’s lecture.”

Zhou Xuanhong was reluctant, but he couldn’t force them to keep cooking for him.

“Junior brother, junior sister, will you be here again tomorrow?”

The boy, not quite warming to him, replied offhandedly, “If nothing comes up, probably.”

Zhou Xuanhong realized they likely wouldn’t return. He knew he was being a bit presumptuous, but it didn’t matter.

“How about this, junior brother—since you’re a new disciple as well, you must know who I am. If you have any trouble in the sect, just let me know.”

The boy replied politely but indifferently, “Thank you for your kindness, senior brother,” and prepared to leave.

Zhou Xuanhong frowned slightly. These two seemed a bit unusual. He’d seen them before as new disciples at the martial arena yesterday; they definitely knew his identity. Their indifference could only mean they didn’t care about his status at all.

After thinking for a moment, Zhou Xuanhong smiled. “Junior brother, your clothes are a bit damp from fishing in the river. Tomorrow I’ll bring you some more, and maybe swap out your pots and pans for new ones—made of refined iron, very sturdy!”

The boy nodded, “No need. I’ve learned a few little spells and can dry my clothes well enough, but thank you for your concern.”

Zhou Xuanhong placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and a gentle warmth dried his clothes completely—especially his undergarments, which now felt comfortably warm.

The boy’s porcelain-like face flushed slightly. He thanked Zhou Xuanhong, then took his sister’s hand and left.

Once they were gone, Zhou Xuanhong sat by the fire, sensing that there was something unusual—and oddly familiar—about the siblings. If pressed, he’d say they reminded him of Xiaona, but couldn’t put his finger on exactly why.

After dousing the fire, Zhou Xuanhong felt his complexion recovering. He sat and meditated, digesting the food.

“What… spiritual energy?”

Zhou Xuanhong was astonished—the food he’d eaten contained a trace of spiritual energy. The fish, shrimp, and crab were all ordinary creatures, yet somehow, spiritual energy had been introduced. Had something been added to them?

Once he’d finished digesting, Zhou Xuanhong left the sect grounds. He asked the gatekeepers about the nearest town, which was several dozen kilometers away, then took out a spirit sword, affixed a flight talisman, and departed.

Not long after Zhou Xuanhong left, one of the gate guards found an excuse to slip away and sent off a message talisman.

On Azure Spirit Peak, home to one of the sect’s Law Enforcement Elders, a young man received the message as he meditated in a grand palace. After reading its contents, he casually reduced the talisman to ashes.

The youth was refined as jade, with sword-shaped brows and starry eyes, exuding an aura of authority.

“So, Old Xuan Qizi is playing his hand, pushing this little pawn into the spotlight to restrict my faction’s moves. I’m sure you’re just waiting for the boy to die, aren’t you?

But you don’t know that the Supreme Elder said the one who abducted that favored daughter of the heavens was a True Lord of the Nether Yin Corpse Sect, whose lifespan is nearly up. Such temptation—no cultivator could refuse it, especially given that the Nether Yin Corpse Sect was once the greatest evil sect in the Nameless Region!

But this matter is still premature. If that pawn is to die, it must be handled in the most proper way—best to slay him inside the Spirit Herb Realm, in front of the entire sect. Only then will the impact be greatest, and my plan can move ahead more quickly.

Yuan’er, just wait. On the day your Xu family falls, I will personally take your primal energy.”

In the town of Morning Immortal, at its finest restaurant, Zhou Xuanhong was feasting, his complexion growing healthier with each bite.

Only after consuming an entire table’s worth of dishes did Zhou Xuanhong feel satisfied. He sat cross-legged in a private room, refining the vital energy contained in the food.

Once finished, he spat, “Not tasty at all—not even a tenth as good as the grilled fish. I won’t come back.”

Leaving the restaurant, he was accompanied by two servers, who insisted on refusing payment—the true disciple token on his belt spoke volumes, and they dared not ask him to pay.

Morning Immortal Town, being the closest mortal settlement to the Form and Essence Sect, could be considered a cultivators’ town. Immortals were a common sight, and the servers had learned to recognize important figures.

Now full and recovered, Zhou Xuanhong was in no hurry to return to the sect. Instead, he visited the town’s marketplace.

But this was no ordinary market. It didn’t just sell mundane vegetables, but produce from the cultivation world.

“Come and see! Freshly butchered Level-3 Demon Ox—tender meat, fair price!”

“Freshly harvested Blood-Raising Grass—makes men vigorous all night, restores strength to the elderly!”

“Mama, I want roasted yams—big pieces! Are two enough? Thank you, Mama, you’re the best!”

Zhou Xuanhong soon discovered that some dishes at the restaurant contained spiritual energy. Inquiry revealed that, apart from the normal markets, Morning Immortal Town had a special cultivation market. Here, one could buy small demon beasts, semi-spiritual herbs, and other foods linked to the world of cultivation.

This market existed primarily because the Form and Essence Sect’s Auxiliary Hall, specifically the Alchemy Pavilion, would come irregularly to buy low-level spiritual items for refining Fasting Pills. Over time, a market formed. Besides wealthy merchants from afar, restaurants also became regular customers, seeking out the ingredients for their own menus. This gave rise to another specialized auxiliary profession: spiritual chefs.

These chefs, dedicated to preparing food for cultivators, created what were known as spiritual dishes. The best spiritual chefs could not only create exquisite flavors but also preserve and even enhance the spiritual essence within the ingredients, making their dishes rival even elixirs.

Zhou Xuanhong’s arrival drew the attention of these itinerant cultivators, quieting their cries.

“Didn’t the Alchemy Pavilion come just yesterday?”

“He doesn’t look familiar—not one of the Alchemy Pavilion’s people.”

“That token—heavens, he’s a true disciple of the Form and Essence Sect!”