WBICDPH Chapter 99

Chapter 99: A Drop of Filth Spoils the Soup

“……”

Lin Jin looked at Han Ao’s half-lowered eyes, momentarily stunned.

Han Ao’s question hit him like a heavy hammer, crashing through his mind and leaving him unable to recover for a long time.

“I…”

Lin Jin opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

He ran through countless possible answers in his head, yet none of them felt right. Keeping them to himself was uncomfortable, and he couldn’t bring himself to say them aloud either.

Seeing his silence, Han Ao seemed to understand something.

Noticing the conflicted look on Lin Jin’s face, he couldn’t bear to make things harder for him. So he curled his lips into a small smile and said lightly,

“Alright, look at you tying yourself in knots. I said ‘if’—I was just joking. And you actually took it seriously? As long as I know you still see me as a friend, that’s enough.”

“…Of course. We’ll always be good friends.”

Hearing that, Lin Jin felt a bit relieved.

He raised a hand and patted Han Ao on the shoulder.

“Just take what I said with a grain of salt. Anyway, if you still want to be a sword cultivator, then try to overcome those past issues. Besides, you don’t have to follow the protagonist’s path. Everyone has their own road. Rather than forcing yourself step by step into becoming someone else, it’s better to find a way and a life that suits you. And if you’re tired—if you don’t want to be part of all this fighting and killing—then just leave Yanyu Mountain. Go down the mountain, find an ordinary little village, farm the land, raise some sheep. Wouldn’t that be peaceful? It’s not like you wouldn’t be able to make a living.”

“Farming?” Han Ao let out a short laugh.

“If I really went into seclusion to farm, what about Liu Fuxin? Wouldn’t that mean I’d never meet her in this lifetime?”

Lin Jin never expected that response.

He shoved Han Ao in disbelief.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re one of those hopeless romantics?”

“I am a hopeless romantic.”

Han Ao clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back onto the large rock.

Looking up at the pale pink peach blossoms overhead and the bright blue sky beyond, he let out a long sigh.

“I was just thinking… if I can never go home again, then the only thing keeping me in this world… might be her. It’s been six years, Lin Lin. My home, my family, my friends, the person I like—if I’m destined to stay here, then I can’t… have nothing to hold onto, can I?”

“……”

Lin Jin thought about it and found himself agreeing.

He liked this world and felt he could stay here forever because there were people who loved him, cared for him, and favored him in every way. That’s why he was willing to return that love and sincerity. But Han Ao was different—his attachments, his home, weren’t here.

“I understand. No matter what kind of life you choose, I’ll support you.”

As soon as Lin Jin finished speaking, a notification sounded—the arrival of a communication talisman.

He listened, replied with a brief “Got it,” then turned to Han Ao.

“Miss Hua says Xiao Lang won his first match and insists I cook something tonight to celebrate.”

Han Ao snorted with amusement.

“That glutton—she just wants to eat, doesn’t she? Using Qi Xiao Lang as an excuse.”

Lin Jin chuckled.

“It’s fine as long as we know it. Just don’t say that to her face—Miss Hua is thin-skinned. Want to come?”

Han Ao didn’t react much. Still lying lazily on the rock, he waved a hand.

“I’ll pass. I embarrassed myself so badly today—I don’t have the face to show up at a ‘celebration banquet.’ You guys go ahead.”

“No one’s going to say anything.”

“I don’t have the face for it myself.”

“You actually care about that?”

“You saying I have no shame?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Lin Jin shrugged with a smile, then deliberately added after a pause,

“Alright then. Guess someone who cares about their pride won’t get to eat a nice, fragrant spicy hot pot.”

“Spicy hot pot?!”

At those words, Han Ao shot upright as if he’d come back from the dead.

“Where the hell did you get spicy hot pot?!”

“I put together a small bronze furnace the other day—something an artificer might use—and figured it could work. Yesterday I sorted through the ingredients in my storage ring and realized I could make a hot pot base. We’ve got plenty of meat and vegetables too. So, Mr. Homesick—are you coming or not?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Now that you’ve said that, how could I not?!”

“Oh? I thought you cared about your pride?”

“In a life this bland, if there’s hot pot to eat, who needs pride? That’s just ridiculous!”

The moment he heard “spicy hot pot,” Han Ao instantly bounced back to life. Seeing him like this, Lin Jin finally felt at ease.

On their way to Piaomiao Pavilion earlier, Lin Jin had ridden with Qi Xiao Lang on Jiang Lou’s flying artifact—the Landscape Scroll. At the time, Jiang Lou had lavished praise on his new disciple, and Lin Jin had thought he was exaggerating to impress Liu Xun. But who would’ve guessed that Qi Xiao Lang—this timid, reserved boy who barely stood out—would truly shine in the Sword Trial Assembly?

Lin Jin didn’t fully understand the rules of artifact refining. He only knew that using the same materials, whoever forged a higher-grade, more effective artifact was considered superior. He had once thought it felt like opening a blind box—pure luck—but after hearing Jiang Lou explain it, he realized it was all about precise control of heat and timing when adding materials.

According to Hua Nanzhi, Qi Xiao Lang’s opponent had been quite strong. But the moment he opened his furnace, he drew everyone’s attention. The artifact he forged was passed around among elders and disciples, and even some elders from smaller sects wanted to buy it. A few seniors even tried to recruit him, but every one of them was blocked by Jiang Lou—preening like a peacock, fiercely protective of his new disciple.

With both Jiang Lou and Liu Xun in high spirits—one proud, the other having vented his frustrations—they happily joined the otherwise idle Moyuzi at Lin Jin’s hot pot gathering.

The dinner was held in Moyuzi’s courtyard. Everyone gathered around a large round table, at the center of which sat a low-grade bronze artifact furnace Lin Jin had picked up from the Yanyu Mountain market.

When Lin Jin opened the furnace, lit the fire, arranged the ingredients, and began adding broth and spices, most people didn’t think much of it.

But the two artifact refiners at the table fell into silence.

Jiang Lou held his chopsticks, staring at the bubbling furnace for a long moment.

“You’re… using an artifact furnace to cook?”

He asked in disbelief.

“Yeah! It’s called hot pot—you just toss in whatever you want to eat and cook it yourself. It’s spicy and delicious!” Lin Jin enthusiastically introduced the dish from his hometown.

“That’s not the point.”

Jiang Lou looked at the furnace as if it offended him on a spiritual level.

“Why aren’t you using an alchemy furnace? At least that would make me feel better.”

“Well…” Lin Jin hesitated, then told the truth, “The opening on an alchemy furnace is too small. This is more convenient.”

“……”

Jiang Lou tightened his grip on his chopsticks and endured it.

Beside him, Liu Xun rolled her eyes.

“You’re so fussy! What’s wrong with cooking in an artifact furnace? It’s not even yours!”

“Oh, really?” Jiang Lou snapped.

“Then next time I’ll use talismans as table mats and patch up windows! Let’s see if you’re still not fussy then!”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me!”

“Alright, that’s enough!”

Moyuzi, who had been staring longingly at the pot, finally spoke up. As soon as the food was ready, he tossed a leaf of cabbage into each of their bowls.

“Just eat already! Food won’t even shut you two up! You bicker like an old married couple—arguing over every little thing. It’s exhausting!”

“Don’t disgust me. Pick a better comparison next time—who’s a couple with him?” Liu Xun looked utterly repulsed.

“You think I want that? With your temper, whoever marries you is doomed!” Jiang Lou shot back.

Just as Liu Xun was about to explode again, Lin Jin quickly placed a piece of beef into her bowl.

“Master! Let’s not argue—try this, it’s delicious!”

That worked far better than anything Moyuzi had said. Liu Xun immediately calmed down. She picked up the beef with refined elegance, tasted it carefully, then her eyes widened slightly.

“Not bad. A bit too spicy, though. Where is this style of cooking from? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s…” Lin Jin hesitated. “From where Han and I come from.”

“Oh?” Moyuzi looked at him curiously. “I’ve never asked—where exactly is your hometown?”

“Uh… somewhere very far away.”

To avoid further questions, Lin Jin quickly turned to Han Ao.

“So, A-Han—does it taste authentic?”

Han Ao was too busy eating to speak. He nodded vigorously.

“Delicious! Tastes like home! I’ve missed this so much! Lin Lin, can you make this more often? Even once in a while would be great.”

“If you want it, I’ll make it. Don’t make yourself sound so pitiful.”

“Haha, great! Next time, can we have duck intestines, tripe, aorta, shrimp paste… man, just thinking about it makes me hungry!”

“Don’t make it difficult for me—where am I supposed to find those?”

“Just raising the difficulty level for you.”

The two chatted back and forth, while the others didn’t understand those unfamiliar food terms and assumed they were some rare ingredients from the mortal world, so they didn’t ask further.

The aroma of hot pot filled the courtyard. As they ate and chatted, the table of ingredients Lin Jin had prepared was quickly cleared. Everyone praised the hot pot—except for one small issue.

Qi Xiao Lang couldn’t really handle spicy food.

His face turned bright red, and he probably drank more water than he ate food, which made Lin Jin feel a bit guilty.

Next time, he thought, I’ll definitely prepare a divided pot.

Watching Qi Xiao Lang gulp down water, Lin Jin was about to ask if he wanted something lighter, like plain noodles—but before he could speak, a knock sounded at the courtyard gate.

Since it was Moyuzi’s residence, he assumed it was a guest. He wiped his mouth and called out,

“Come in!”

But the person who entered wasn’t a familiar face—it was Yao Fang, sword on his back.

Three disciples from Piaomiao Pavilion followed behind him. The moment he stepped in, his eyes landed on the round table and the feast laid out.

“So that’s what that smell was—you’re having a… gathering?”

With elders present, Yao Fang restrained himself somewhat, far less arrogant than the night before. But his tone still carried that unmistakable mocking edge. Covering his nose slightly, he said,

“What’s this? Doesn’t Yanyu Mountain practice fasting?”

“Xiao Mo, you know him?” Liu Xun glanced at Lin Jin.

As a senior, she wouldn’t interfere directly. By asking this, she was handing the matter over to Lin Jin.

Lin Jin understood and nodded.

“Whether we fast or not is a personal choice—it doesn’t seem to concern you. We’re just having a meal. So, Junior Brother Big Rooster, what brings you here?”

“Who are you calling—”

Yao Fang’s voice rose, but with elders present, he swallowed the rest of his words.

“I was patrolling the mountain with a few junior brothers and smelled something strange, so we came to take a look. Also, on behalf of myself, congratulations—your Yanyu Mountain group performed quite well today. This must be a celebration banquet, right? Though…”

His gaze shifted to Han Ao.

Lin Jin knew immediately he meant trouble. He tried to cut him off—but Yao Fang spoke first:

“Though someone who surrendered to a weaker opponent without even fighting… a coward like that still has the right to attend a celebration banquet?”