The contrasting energies, the aggressive heat of the chili and the soothing sweetness of the nectar, acted as a spiritual tenderizer, violently breaking down the leathery fibers of the rhino at.
She tossed the massive chunks into the boiling cauldron, adding the crushed mandrake and ginger, along with a heavy splash of cooking wine she had brought from the Outer Sect kitchens.
"Cover it," Ji’an ordered. Tang Bo hoisted a heavy wooden lid onto the cauldron.
Now, they just had to wait.
As the stew boiled, releasing an incredibly rich, savory, and spicy aroma that combated the stench of the dead village, Ji’an gathered the squad.
The Class 9 and Class 7 disciples sat in a tight circle around the bonfire. Princess Ling’er had hobbled out of the hut, supported by Su Wan, refusing to be left alone in the dark.
Mo Wuchen sat near the edge of the firelight, his amber eyes fixed unblinkingly on the bubbling cauldron.
The fog had completely enveloped the village now. It pressed against the edges of the firelight, thick, swirling, and unnaturally cold.
Faint, disturbing sounds began to echo from the dark, dilapidated huts: the creak of wood, the soft scuff of footsteps that weren’t there, and low, indistinct whispers that seed to burrow directly into their minds.
The disciples drew closer together, shivering.
"Listen to ," Ji’an stood by the fire, her face illuminated by the dancing orange flas. The playful, flirtatious Senior Brother persona was entirely gone. She looked deadly serious.
"This village is a trap," Ji’an stated bluntly, confirming their worst fears. "The beasts don’t avoid this place because it’s safe. They avoid it because it’s cursed. There is an accumulation of Yin energy here that is actively trying to drain our Yang Qi. When the fire dies down, whatever is hiding in that fog is going to co for us."
Tang Bo whimpered, clutching his skillet. "Then why did we stop here?!"
"Because if we stayed in the woods, the Mountain-Crag Turtle or the Shadow-Wolves would have killed you in an hour," Ji’an replied calmly. "Here, we have a choke point, a shelter, and we have ti to recover."
She gestured to the boiling cauldron.
"That is not just dinner. That is high-grade spiritual dicine. The rhino at will replenish your physical stamina, and the herbs will flush the cold Yin energy from your ridians. Eat until you are full, and then go sit in a ditation circle and cycle your Qi."
She locked eyes with every single person in the circle, her gaze intense and unwavering.
"I am going to keep the fire burning and hold the periter. But I cannot fight your battles for you if the illusions break through. If you see sothing in the fog, be it a dead relative, a lost friend, your deepest fear, do not break the circle. Do not walk into the mist."
Ji’an reached for her belt and unclipped the green jade Lifeline Token. She held it up so the firelight caught the intricate runes.
"And rember this," Ji’an’s voice rang out, clear and absolute. "There is no sha in surviving. The Inner Sect elites on their comfortable terraces might judge you, but they are not the ones sitting in a cursed village in the Lower Realm."
She looked directly at Princess Ling’er, then at Zhang Min, and finally at Tang Bo.
"If the barrier falls. If the creatures of this village overwhelm us. Do not try to be heroes. Do not throw your lives away for a tournant. If I tell you to shatter your tokens, you shatter them imdiately and teleport back to the plaza. Does everyone understand ?"
"But Boss," Tang Bo’s voice trembled. "If we shatter the tokens... we fail. We stay in the Outer Sect forever."
"Tang Bo," Ji’an said softly, a gentle, surprisingly affectionate smile touching her lips. "I would rather cook for you in the Outer Sect for the rest of my life than attend your funeral tomorrow. You only get one life. Don’t waste it on a test."
Silence fell over the campfire.
The words struck deep. In the cultivation world, honor and progression were valued above life itself. Disciples routinely died in trials, their deaths chalked up to weak destiny.
To have soone openly tell them that their lives were more important than their rank, to have a leader prioritize their safety over victory, was a profoundly alien, incredibly moving concept.
Tears welled in Princess Ling’er’s eyes. She clutched her token tightly.
Su Wan stared at Ji’an, her heart performing a complex rhythm of admiration and genuine affection.
Even Mo Wuchen, sitting in the shadows, felt a strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest.
’He ans it,’ the assassin realized, his mind struggling to categorize this level of selflessness. ’He genuinely does not care about the glory. He only cares about the people.’
"Understood, Senior Brother Lin," Zhang Min said firmly, bowing his head in deep respect. The rest of the disciples echoed the sentint, a renewed sense of resolve settling over the group.
"Good," Ji’an nodded. She turned back to the cauldron, lifting the heavy wooden lid.
A massive cloud of steam erupted into the cold night air, and the stew was also ready. The tough, leathery rhino at had been broken down into tender, lt-in-your-mouth chunks, swimming in a rich, spicy, golden broth.
"Alright, grab your bowls," Ji’an ordered, the chef persona returning. "Eat fast, cultivate hard. It’s going to be a long night."
After the squad had eaten, devouring the spicy stew with groans of absolute culinary ecstasy, they ford a tight ditation circle in the center of the courtyard, right beside the roaring fire.
The restorative energy of the rhino at was evident; color returned to their pale cheeks, and the shivering stopped completely.
Ji’an, however, did not sit down.
She filled one final, large wooden bowl with the richest cuts of at and the thickest broth.
She picked up the bowl, grabbed her spatula, and walked away from the safety of the firelight.
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