240 - The Demon Fox Wife is a Foodie

Yan Zhao felt a surge of responsibility wash over her as she was entrusted with an important task. She nodded eagerly and got to work without delay. Running to the corner of the room, she lifted down the top box. The box wasn't sealed with any restrictions, so Yan Zhao opened it with ease. Inside was a box full of books, which Yan Zhao began to carry over to Ren Qingyue in stacks. Midway through, a small booklet slipped from her grasp and fell with a thud onto her foot. She glanced down to see a palm-sized booklet had appeared at her feet. After placing the stack she was holding by Ren Qingyue, she returned to pick up the small booklet. It had no cover, leaving its contents a mystery. Out of curiosity, Yan Zhao opened it up. On the second inside page, the title was written, almost as if it were deliberately hidden. The title was rather peculiar. Intrigued, Yan Zhao continued reading down the page. Ren Qingyue, busy at work, suddenly realized Yan Zhao hadn't brought any more books for a while. Turning her head, she saw Yan Zhao engrossed in the little book, reading with great interest. "What are you looking at?" Ren Qingyue asked her. Yan Zhao scampered over, displaying the inside page to Ren Qingyue, revealing a line of small text: "The Complete Guide of Lies Told by Male Cultivators in the Cultivation World" Ren Qingyue's eyes widened: "?!" She remembered now—this was a book Yan Yuanqing had given her when she was around five hundred years old. Yan Yuanqing had told her that she was getting on in years and needed to guard herself in advance, lest she—during the awakening of her romantic affections—be deceived by sweet-talking men, which would consequently hinder her cultivation. Therefore, he had specially found some relevant books for her. This was Ren Qingyue's own sanctuary, and apart from Yan Yuanqing, no one else had ventured here. Hence, she hadn't paid much attention to what Yan Yuanqing had placed inside when he visited. At the time, she had seriously doubted whether Yan Yuanqing had written the book himself. She never imagined Yan Zhao would find it! Yan Zhao asked Ren Qingyue, "What's this book for?" Ren Qingyue calmed herself, serenely repeating what Yan Yuanqing had advised years ago: "It's for discerning the good from the bad in people. Take it, memorize it thoroughly. If anyone tells you something similar to what's written in the book, they're definitely a liar. Got it?" Chapter 260 Main Peak of Fuyun Sect. The sect's grand ceremony was forcibly halted, the ancestral shrine destroyed, and the crowd dispersed. Visiting disciples from other sects gradually made their way down the mountain. Some decisive and independent-minded disciples, heeding Su Zijun's advice, left Fuyun Sect that very night. Others, indecisive, formed small groups to discuss whether to stay or leave, hoping for the pinnacle master or other elders to safeguard them, fearing that leaving the sect meant losing its protection, hoping they might still remain at Fuyun Sect. Bi Lan was fortunate, avoiding injury. When the Medicine God instructed that injured disciples be transferred to the medical pavilion, she stepped up voluntarily, working tirelessly from the end of the battle until the moon hung high, only resting when the commotion subsided. By the silent night, the peak lay in ruins. With the people gone, all that remained was devastation. Bi Lan, filled with complex emotions, ascended the shattered high platform, her eyes falling on the collapsed main hall of the sect. Amid the ruins were stains of dark blood. Bu Donghou's body had been dragged away by someone, leaving Fuyun Sect fearfully silent. Who could have imagined that this grand event would mark the end for an ancient sect? Bi Lan felt a pang of sadness; a family, a sect, its rise and fall unpredictable, let alone a person's life? Humans appeared to be the most insignificant existence in the world, yet many seemed to forget this fact. Whether it was Yundaozi, Bu Donghou, or Dao Ling and Xuanyuan Kai, who caused trouble earlier— Even the celestial realms, celestial alliances, and countless cultivators tirelessly fighting and competing for resources— These people had amassed enough power that their desires grew alongside it. They always sought to climb higher, their greed unquenchable. As their initial intentions for cultivation were erased by time, their humanity became enslaved to desire, turning cultivation into a self-deceptive performance. All that grew was power, longevity, and ever-inflating selfishness, while kindness and integrity became mere facades and masks. To disregard life and scorn rules would inevitably lead to punishment. Their current plight was nothing more than karma, unworthy of pity or regret. Yet Bi Lan felt no sense of gratification; many had perished in the battle. Among them were disciples of Fuyun Sect with ordinary talent and cultivation level, like her—without background, without reliance, just honestly and diligently cultivating, perhaps never achieving much, simply wishing for a peaceful existence. But it had all been destroyed by this disaster. So now, where should she go from here? Bi Lan was uncertain. At that moment, a small gray dot appeared in her vision. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a palm-sized little creature flying toward her. As it approached, she saw that it was not gray but golden. However, under the dim moonlight, it appeared dull, its surface gleaming coldly, looking almost gray. "Xiao Jin?" Bi Lan said in surprise. This was none other than the ancient dragon Yan Zhao had asked her about earlier, seeking a method to remove the sealing nails. Back then, Yan Zhao had left in a hurry, transforming Xiao Jin and carrying Nangong Yin away without checking if Xiao Jin was following. Immersed in the grief of its kin's death, Xiao Jin waited until it regained its senses, finding itself in such a situation. Though bound by a master-servant contract, when the distance was great, it could only vaguely sense the direction. Failing to locate Yan Zhao, it flapped its wings haphazardly until it encountered Bi Lan. Knowing Bi Lan, Xiao Jin flew straight to her. Seeing her reach out, it gently settled onto her hand. Bi Lan carefully examined it, confirming this little ancient dragon was indeed Yan Zhao's pet, and couldn't help but wonder, "What are you doing here?" Xiao Jin's three mouths chattered simultaneously in obscure gibberish, incomprehensible to Bi Lan. Yet she could roughly guess what Xiao Jin wanted to express. So she asked, "Are you looking for Yan Zhao?" The three little heads nodded in unison. "She should be at Huangyin Peak," Bi Lan recalled Yan Zhao had gone to Huangyin Peak with Dongfang Cixin earlier and presumably hadn't left yet. Xiao Jin chattered some more, which Bi Lan didn't understand. Unable to decipher it, she followed her train of thought, "Shall I take you to find her?" The three little heads nodded again. Bi Lan's furrowed brow smoothed out, a smile appearing: "Alright." · Tianzhu Peak. Yan Zhao held the "Complete Guide of Lies Told by Male Cultivators in the Cultivation World" with an expression of disbelief. Who knew such a fascinating book existed? She obediently nodded in acknowledgment: "Got it." Ren Qingyue, unflustered, instructed Yan Zhao to keep moving the books. Yan Zhao slipped the little booklet into her Qiankun pouch before continuing with the wooden crates, moving stacks of books over to Ren Qingyue. Ren Qingyue sorted them into different Qiankun pouches, and the two worked together for nearly an hour before completing the organization of the study. After finishing, Ren Qingyue moved to the bedroom. Yan Zhao peeked inside from the doorway, noticing the simple yet elegant setup, with screens and drapes in plain, graceful colors, mostly featuring patterns of green bamboo and plum blossoms. Ren Qingyue didn’t have many clothes, only a few sets prepared by Yan Yuanqing. These clothes, made from special materials and of simple design with light hues, never looked old no matter how long they were worn. While Ren Qingyue tidied the wardrobe, Yan Zhao sat on a small stool by the dressing table, flipping through the little booklet her senior sister had given her. Barely literate, she read slowly and soon lost patience after only a few pages. Closing the book, she glanced at a little dark brown wooden comb beside the bronze mirror. Seeing the comb, Yan Zhao suddenly recalled that three years ago, shortly after leaving the mountain, she'd spent some time at a bandit camp where Bi Lan had helped her comb her hair once. After that, every morning upon waking, her hair was neatly arranged. She hadn't noticed before that someone had been doing her hair daily, keeping it the same as before she went to sleep. That person was, of course, her senior sister. Thinking back, Yan Zhao's eyes crinkled with a fond smile. Ren Qingyue finished organizing the clothes and, upon turning around, saw Yan Zhao sitting at the dressing table holding an ordinary wooden comb, smiling like a little fool. "What are you smiling about?" Ren Qingyue walked over to Yan Zhao, intending to check if there were any items left to be taken from the cabinet. Yan Zhao tilted her head up to look at her senior sister and raised the comb with a smile. "Back at the bandit camp, weren't you secretly helping me comb my hair every day, senior sister?" Mentioning this, Ren Qingyue felt a bit embarrassed. She glanced at the comb in Yan Zhao’s hand and, trying to appear nonchalant, replied, "Even after we left the camp, you still needed me to help you with your hair every day." Even when Yan Zhao joined the Medicine God's sect and finally learned to comb her hair, she still preferred having Ren Qingyue do it for her. Her reason was that she could only manage simple hairstyles herself, which never looked as nice as the ones her senior sister did. Yan Zhao thought about it and realized this was true, her eyes curling into crescents as her smile grew wider. Seeing her smile, something soft within Ren Qingyue's heart was gently touched, as if the joy in Yan Zhao's eyes had calmed her own worries. Who could predict what the future would hold? Three years ago, she had been anxious about whether she could leave Fuyun Sect alive, and in just those short years, Fuyun Sect had already fallen. Ren Qingyue opened a drawer under the dressing table, revealing several small boxes containing hairpins and ornaments. These were items Ren Qingyue rarely used, as she preferred understated and simple attire; too many accessories hindered her ability to wield a sword freely. But as Yan Yuanqing had put it, you might not need them, but you should have them, for whenever you feel like dressing up, you should have options to choose from. And so these small objects had been kept. Ren Qingyue thought for a moment and picked out a hairpin and a pair of earrings. She placed the hairpin into Yan Zhao's hair, causing Yan Zhao to look up, unable to see it. She glanced toward the bronze mirror, realizing the addition to her appearance. The hairpin was carved from fine warm jade, designed in the form of bamboo joints, with the end finely sculpted into two bamboo leaves. Its unique style added a sense of calm elegance to Yan Zhao's look. Yan Zhao stared into the mirror for a while, tilting her head left and right, appreciating the hairpin from every angle. Ren Qingyue asked, "Do you like it?" Yan Zhao earnestly replied, "I love it!" Ren Qingyue spoke gently, "If you like it, then it's yours." Then she picked up the pair of translucent sky-blue earrings and held them next to Yan Zhao’s ears for a trial. Yan Zhao had a slender frame. When she first left Fuyun Sect, she was so thin that her cheeks were hollow and her features hadn't fully developed. Nonetheless, even then, she possessed a delicate charm. After all, her mother was Yan Yuanqing, the famed first sword cultivator known across realms, whose beauty matched her renowned sword technique. Over the past two years, Yan Zhao's face had filled out a bit, no longer as gaunt as before. Her facial features had matured, utterly transforming her aura. While she didn't possess Yan Yuanqing's flamboyance, traces of her mother’s elegance began to emerge. If Yan Yuanqing was like the wind—elusive and free—then Yan Zhao resembled a tranquil pool of water, serene and gentle. Moreover, Yan Zhao's fair complexion could easily carry the challenging sky-blue color, enhancing her features beautifully in Ren Qingyue's eyes. Adorning Yan Zhao was a process filled with unexplainable joy and satisfaction for Ren Qingyue. She finally understood why Yan Yuanqing had loved buying her jewelry and clothes back then.