The Eight Treasures dish was perfect in color, aroma, and taste, with black and white sesa seeds scattered among thinly sliced vegetables, mushrooms, and bamboo shoots, presented by the chef’s hand.
The braised pig ear was glossy and flavorful.
The stewed bones were tender and fell off the bone...
The at soup was like a poem or painting, with shattered egg flowers as misty as the morning fog, and the starch-thickened broth like dense haze, garnished perfectly with minced at, mushroom bits, scallions, and ginger.
Fang Zheng enjoyed a private room at the Jade Cauldron Tower, ticulously savoring the delicacies.
A perfect al, it lifted one’s spirits.
This al would cost six silver taels, naturally beyond the reach of ordinary families.
Wu Hai declined the invitation to dine together, watching as Fang Zheng enjoyed his al slowly, increasingly certain that the master’s family background was quite extraordinary.
Typical families only ate two als a day.
But the master,
Had to have three als a day without fail.
And could not just eat simple als; there needed to be dishes, at least two dishes.
The master ate at but never sucked the marrow from the bones, nor did he eat much of the at on the bones—his wastefulness pained onlookers.
His seemingly insignificant daily habits set him apart.
Unless raised in luxury, how else could such extravagant habits develop?
Fortunately, though the master hailed from an extraordinary background, he did not carry an air of superiority; he was rather approachable.
Nor was he an uneducated person.
As for his frequent disappearances and the mysterious origins of the porcelain, it was likely the master had connections with his family, otherwise, where did the wealth co from?
Fang Zheng was unaware of Wu Hai’s thoughts and, noticing his gaze, asked:
"What are you looking at?"
"If you want to eat, sit down and try it."
"No, no." Wu Hai snapped out of it, hurriedly shaking his head:
"I was just thinking... the master is truly knowledgeable and well-inford."
"Old Fan has been imrsed in porcelain making for decades, yet he knows less than the master. His expression was laughable when you ntioned the Dragon Kiln."
"I am rely standing on the shoulders of giants," Fang Zheng waved it off:
"Old Fan thought of adjusting the thod of firing porcelain, which far surpasses many. It is precisely such people, improving through generations, that led to the creation of the Dragon Kiln and the Town Kiln."
"What a pity!"
"The Fan Family descendants are illiterate, unable to docunt their knowledge, relying solely on oral tradition."
"That’s because they never t the master," Wu Hai sincerely cupped his hands:
"Your willingness to let them be educated and even fund a school is a kindness beyond asure for the Fan Family."
Fang Zheng shook his head, not saying much more.
He was not a native of the Otherworld and could not stand seeing people treated like livestock; as long as there was a return, he didn’t mind doing so good.
Besides, it didn’t cost much.
"This gentleman."
As they just stepped out of the restaurant, soone blocked their path.
The person held a tall banner inscribed with "Divine Calculations," with a black mole on the left cheek and a three-inch beard at the temples, stroking it as he observed them.
"Young master’s brow is dark, his divine soul is disturbed, and I fear calamity may strike soon, possibly endangering his life!"
"Nonsense!" Wu Hai’s face changed dramatically:
"Fortune teller, if you want money, just say so, why curse my master?"
Fang Zheng’s expression also soured; no one would be happy being told they would die while walking down the street.
"I am speaking the truth."
The fortune teller scrutinized Fang Zheng up and down, eyes filled with doubt:
"Have you been feeling dizzy and sleepless lately, young master?"
"Ha..." Fang Zheng chuckled lightly:
"Then you are mistaken. I eat well, sleep soundly, and life couldn’t be more comfortable. Your deception skills seem lacking."
"How could it be?" The fortune teller was stunned, calculating with a finger technique:
"It shouldn’t be!"
"Indeed, it shouldn’t be." Fang Zheng pushed the person aside:
"Please move."
"Young master." The fortune teller staggered from the shove, seeing Fang Zheng about to leave, hurriedly said:
"I often read fortunes at the Narcissus Embanknt. If you feel unwell, you can find there."
Fang Zheng walked away without looking back.
"It doesn’t make sense!"
Watching them depart, the fortune teller frowned deeply:
"The Soul Nailing Spell has been in place for seven days, there should have been signs, yet the one nad Fang has a clear essence, only slightly dark on the forehead."
"This..."
"What’s going on?"
After so thought, he put away the long banner and swiftly departed.
Before long,
The figure appeared before a dilapidated temple.
Pushing the door open, inside was a canopy-covered sedan chair guarded by four robust won, seemingly waiting for its owner’s return.
The fortune teller entered with head bowed, first offering incense, then making his way to the back courtyard.
"Shishu!"
"Qinggu Shishu!"
A few young people greeted him as they saw him.
"Hmm."
Qinggu nodded casually, quickly entering a room to retrieve a palm-sized straw doll from behind a hidden panel.
The doll was covered with a yellow talisman, entwined with strands of hair, its limbs, head, and heart stabbed with steel needles, appearing very eerie.
"The spell is unbroken."
After inspection, Qinggu looked puzzled:
"What’s going on?"
"Could it be the hair is wrong and I cursed the wrong person?"
"Ask Shii!"
*
*
*
Sun Die sat on a stool, looking anxious, her hands twisting the hem of her clothes repeatedly until the cloth was tattered and torn.
Desperate, she had co to such a place for a child.
The wild temple housed people from various backgrounds, not reputable. If Yu Yanghong knew, he surely wouldn’t allow it.
But rumors said the witch here had helped many won conceive, her herbal redies had miraculous effects.
Holding onto a sliver of hope, she had co secretly.
’I cannot be without a child!’
’After years of marriage without a sign, though my husband says nothing, I’ve—faced much ridicule, drowning my sorrows in drink daily.’
’Without heirs, the Sun Family’s wealth will fall to other branches; I would be ashad before my ancestors.’
’I must not only have a child, but two—one to carry on my husband’s line. Though he married into my family, he should not be wronged.’
These thoughts hardened her resolve.
’By any ans, I must conceive!’
"Shixiong, you need to confirm if you have the right person." "Witch" spoke from behind the curtain, her voice surprisingly clear and sweet:
"I am busy with other matters."
"Yes."
The other person evidently feared his ’Shii’ greatly, quickly falling silent.
"Swish..."
The curtain was pulled aside, and a poised woman in white stepped forward.
Sun Die considered herself coly, but constant toil marked her with mundanity, unlike the woman’s ethereal presence.
Just the aura set them apart.
Moreover, Sun Die, burdened with business matters and family concerns, wore herself thin worrying about conception, leaving her with visible wrinkles and dull skin.
By contrast, the woman’s maintenance was enviable.
"Miss Sun."
The woman spoke crisply:
"The dicine is ready."
"Oh!" Sun Die snapped back, instinctively lowering her gaze, fearing self-doubt:
"Miss Qingxia, should I drink it now?"
"Drink it when you get ho," Qingxia smiled broadly:
"After drinking, it’s best to engage in intercourse the sa day. Co back after seven days for the second dose, there are three doses in total, and after they are used, there should be a pregnancy."
"Really?"
Sun Die was anxious, having suffered too many setbacks, afraid to believe easily.
"It is true."
"How much is the fee?"
"For now, no fee is required." Qingxia waved it off:
"Return once Miss Sun has conceived."
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