Daily life of a cultivation judge Chapter 1460: Stir of wonder (1)

It took little to no effort for thoughts on Tang Xiadan’s intent to be pushed to the back of his mind as more pertinent matters climbed the list of priorities. With plenty of wins needing celebrating, Yang Qing wasted no ti indulging the festive mood, pouring more wine for himself and munching on spiced nuts and sesa seeds, though given how joyous the mont was, he was itching to move on from the snacks to sothing more filling and worthy of the occasion. Tenderloins from the green flowered babirusa Feng Xin had brought back would have been perfect, but alas, he and Feng Xin had quickly eaten their way through that mountainous spirit beast. Not even a toe had been left behind.

"A crimson boar from the Forest Hog Delights wouldn’t be a bad idea," Yang Qing mused, holding his chin thoughtfully, which imdiately crumbled into him swallowing continuously as the image of a crimson boar being roasted over an open fire possessed his mind.

"Crimson boar it is," he said, his tone rising slightly from the excitent bubbling within him as he nodded to himself fervently, the swallowing quickly devolving into full lip smacking. "It would be even more poetic," he added, as another joyous mory surfaced in his mind.

Back when he graduated from the Institute and received his official posting along with his present abode, to celebrate all three achievents, he and Feng Xin went to Forest Hog Delights and bought about a dozen crimson boars. They had originally planned to buy six, but the owner gave them a generous discount on account of their graduation, their continuous patronage of the shop, and lastly, arguably the primary driving factor behind the discount, the owner’s guilt toward them both for having sold them defective crimson boar that one ti during their first year at the Institute, which had left Yang Qing and Feng Xin unconscious for a few days after devouring twelve of those defective crimson boars.

Granted, the owner hadn’t been at fault for how things transpired, given he had warned the two about possible issues with those crimson boars, which the two had righteously ignored. But still, the owner of Forest Hog Delights felt guilty about it and, driven by that guilt, gave them the discount.

Yang Qing’s grin grew wider. He couldn’t wait to get back. Stopping by Forest Hog Delights had imdiately jumped to first place the instant he arrived at the Order, pushing the Formation Hall down to second. It couldn’t be helped; Forest Hog Delights had so of the best swine he had ever had. They sold it raw and whole for those who wanted to cook it themselves, or cooked it for you in whatever form you wanted. When he was alone, Yang Qing was usually partial to the latter, and when it was a party, he was partial to the forr, but now, given his winnings, even if he was alone, the epicure in him felt it would be a disservice to the mont not to do the roasting himself. His skills were nothing like those of the seasoned cooks at Forest Hog Delights, but after working there for months and with his natural fire-controlling ability, not to ntion the repertoire of different yang flas he had at his disposal, he was a pretty decent hand at roasting all things at, with a particular gift when it ca to swine.

As he was slowly getting lost in the wonders of what spices and herbs to use and which side dishes would pair well with the roast, Yang Qing’s blissful, hungry grin suddenly morphed into a curious expression as his gaze drifted over to the door. He had detected a few familiar presences not far from it, headed in his direction.

"Mmh, seems they ca after all," he muttered in amusent as he shifted his sitting position to one of the single cushions on the side of the table that directly faced the door. He looked at the spirit pearl peonies on the table, debating on whether to remove them, before a playful smile curled on his lips and he decided to leave them there. Despite their number, they hardly took up much space on the jade table. There was more than enough room for his soon to be guests to settle in comfortably without feeling squeezed for space. It was more than ample for four people, five if Yang Qing counted himself.

Yang Qing smiled softly as anticipation slowly simred within him, as the four figures stopped right outside his door. Three he was familiar with. One he was not.

"Daoist Yang Qing, pardon the intrusion. May we enter?" said Han Bai.

"You’re more than welco," Yang Qing said amiably.

Leading the procession was Han Bai with his deadpan expression, though his eyes, unlike their usual clear placid selves, now held so emotion in them. It wasn’t clear or outright, but having spent so ti with the man, Yang Qing felt he had studied Han Bai enough to notice when sothing was off with him. What truly sealed it was ng Song. She was smiling, as Yang Qing had grown accustod to seeing from her, but unlike the mischievous, lively smile he had always seen on her, her present smile as she walked into the room was stiff.

Yang Qing suspected it was deliberate on ng Song’s part, a forewarning of sorts, while at the sa ti serving as a preemptive apology for whatever she was warning him about. A seasoned rchant like her, who was also a powerful cultivator and a rogue cultivator who had survived who knows how many storms, there was no way she would not be an expert at controlling her facial expressions and concealing her true thoughts. Soone like that didn’t smile stiffly, letting their unease show, not unless it was done deliberately.

Yang Qing’s smile adjusted slightly, sending a covert ssage of his own back to her: that he didn’t mind, and that she and Bai Chen needn’t take to heart whatever it was they felt uneasy about.

He gave out my identity, Yang Qing thought, amused, as his gaze shifted to the person walking right behind ng Song.

Sensing his gaze, that figure smiled back. "Seems like you had quite the fruitful harvest there, Judge Yang Qing," Fan Jie said, his eyes drifting aningfully toward the iridescent leaves peeking out from Yang Qing’s outer coat.

"It wasn’t bad," Yang Qing said, smiling warmly at Fan Jie as he gently patted the leaves. "Thank you for being such gracious hosts. I enjoyed your wine very much," he added, his eyes drifting over to the sorghum wine gourd on the table.

"It fills my heart with joy that your experience was a pleasant one." Fan Jie smiled gently. "Also, I’d like to offer an apology," he continued, his gaze drifting subtly to the person walking beside him.

It was a man who looked to be in his early to mid-forties. He had dark brown hair tied in a half bun and a small beard. He wore a plain dark grey outer robe and a matching inner robe that carried the distinct charm and essence of a wanderer’s robes, the kind that had absorbed the weight of long travels into their fabric. They weren’t faded or worn, but they definitely had the feel of sothing that had experienced countless days, nights, and seasons across different places and environnts.

As for his face, he looked as ordinary as ordinary could be. A shadow would leave a more lasting impression. He had the kind of face that could go entirely unnoticed in a crowd, and Yang Qing had little doubt it would be the sa even in a small gathering, aided as it was by a presence just as unremarkable as the face itself.

If there was one striking thing about him, it was his beetle-like eyes, which carried endless curiosity and wonder within them. But even that wasn’t obvious. Yang Qing only recognized it because he carried the sa natural predisposition within himself. He may not have known who that person was, but they likely shared certain similarities in nature, and that figure seed to realize it just as quickly, offering Yang Qing a slight smile and a nod, which Yang Qing subtly reciprocated before bringing his attention back to the smiling Fan Jie.