Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Fierce Battle for Food

When the final notes of the pipa piece faded away, a figure dressed in flowing white finally emerged from the carriage—it was Jiang Yao.

His face was somewhat pale, but instead of immediately venting his anger at Old Jiang, he hurried straight to where Qin Yi lay unconscious.

Seeing this, Zhang Chen felt his lips go dry. He had heard tales of Senior Sister Jiang Yao’s renown, not just in Lingzhou but throughout the human realm. Yet ever since he had known her, she had always been gentle with others, never uttering a harsh word even if she disliked someone. Who would have thought that, when she did act, her hand would be so swift and merciless? The five cultivators who, moments ago, had been fighting and trading blows with him and Qin Yi—alive and vigorous—were now five bodies, each cleaved in two.

Now, as Zhang Chen glanced at Qin Yi, he could no longer conceal the envy in his gaze.

Jiang Yao cradled the unconscious Qin Yi, who had fainted from exhaustion, and floated back toward the carriage. As she entered, she shot a fierce glare at Old Jiang—who was guiltily touching his face with his index finger—before stepping inside.

No sooner had Jiang Yao entered than He Anjian, who had been within, stepped out.

He Anjian eyed Old Jiang with surprise.

“Ahem…” Old Jiang coughed heavily, then spoke in a serious tone, “I had no intention of harming your grandson! I was helping him.”

He Anjian seemed eager to change the subject, casting a teasing glance into the carriage as he replied, “That’s something you’d better explain to Jiang Yao herself.”

Old Jiang’s head ached at once, as if wondering whether he’d gone too far this time.

At this moment, Jiang Fengnian stepped in to ease the tension, laughing as he asked, “Senior, how did it go?”

Old Jiang’s face brightened at this, stroking his snowy-white beard with satisfaction. “Not bad at all.”

“Let’s be on our way,” He Anjian said, turning to the old coachman, who, accustomed to such scenes, remained calm even in the face of death.

“Yes, sir,” the coachman replied, raising his whip and flicking it across the horses’ backs. “Hyah!”

As for the bloodied remains left by Jiang Yao’s sword, Jiang Fengnian gave a wave of his sleeve, burying them under a small mound of earth.

Thus, the party set off once more.

Now, only Jiang Yao and Qin Yi remained in the large carriage. Qin Yi lay in Jiang Yao’s arms as she gently tended his wounds—wiping where needed, applying medicine where necessary.

Suddenly, Qin Yi stirred, nestling his head even closer to the soft rise and fall of Jiang Yao’s chest. Jiang Yao frowned but did not push him away or chide him. Instead, she softly asked, “Why are you so foolish?”

Without opening his eyes, Qin Yi replied weakly, “It’s nothing. Even if you hadn’t come out, I wouldn’t have just sat there waiting to die. Old Jiang may have wanted to see your reaction, but I wouldn’t have minded surprising him myself.”

“Pah!” Jiang Yao retorted, uncharacteristically dismissive. “As if you have any tricks I wouldn’t know about.”

Qin Yi was stunned by her unaccustomed response, momentarily speechless. After a long pause, he shifted, curling fully into Jiang Yao’s embrace, and yawned deeply. “I’m so tired. I’ll sleep for a while.”

Jiang Yao said nothing more, continuing to tend to his wounds.

The carriage was not as swift as flying by magical means, but none of the group seemed in any hurry. Their journey to Dragonfish Fort was meant for leisure and amusement; if they encountered anything interesting along the way, all the better. Aside from He Anjian and Jiang Fengnian, who weren’t fond of seeking entertainment, the others all enjoyed such diversions—Jiang Yao herself being an exception, of course.

By sunset, the group had reached a modest riverbank. Seeing that night was falling, and since they were in no rush, they decided to rest there for the night. It was a flat, open expanse by the river, perfect for kindling a bonfire and singing and drinking together—a fine way to pass the time.

When Qin Yi awoke from his deep slumber and made his way to the riverside where the others had lit the fire, the waxing crescent moon hung overhead. Though not as bright as a full moon, its cold light cast a chill, and the open plain offered no shelter from the wind.

The wan moon and dawn breeze lent the scene a touch of melancholy—yet the bonfire was warm, and the air was richly perfumed with the scent of roasting meat, which seemed as if it could travel for miles.

Qin Yi and Jiang Yao joined the group by the fire. Everyone was present, and the lamb roasting over the flames looked nearly golden and ready, needing only a moment more. Old Jiang, ever the perfectionist, seemed unwilling to stop turning the spit, keeping everyone in suspense. All those gathered by the fire, even Jiang Fengnian with his otherworldly composure and the ever-stoic He Anjian, were unable to hide their anticipation.

The lamb, glistening and golden under Old Jiang’s care, was not only beautiful to behold but incredibly fragrant.

Watching Old Jiang continue to turn the already perfectly roasted lamb, Qin Yi couldn’t help but suspect that the mischievous old man was doing it on purpose, just to tease them.

At last, just as Qin Yi and Jiang Yao settled by the fire, Old Jiang lifted the golden lamb from the flames. The others, having waited so long, gazed at it with shining eyes, barely restraining themselves from rushing forward to divide it up.

Old Jiang watched their reactions with relish—clearly, he loved keeping them in suspense.

After savoring the moment, Old Jiang finally spoke, smiling, “How can we not have good wine on such an occasion?”

Zhang Chen needed no further prompting. He hurried to the carriage to fetch several jars of purple rice pot-stewed wine that He Anjian had brought to ward off boredom on the road.

Once again, all eyes fell on Old Jiang—or rather, on the golden roasted lamb skewered on the long stick in his hands. Were it not for the knowledge that none of them could best Old Jiang in a fight, nor wrest the lamb from him, they might have tried to snatch it already.

This time, Old Jiang did not prolong their torment. He tore off a golden leg and, under the gaze of all, tossed it to Jiang Yao, who had not even shown interest in the meat.

No one objected or made a move—they might fight with each other for the remaining lamb, but none would stoop to contend with the only girl present, even if she likely didn’t care for the golden leg.

All eyes returned to Old Jiang, who alone held the right to distribute the lamb.

With everyone watching, he tore off another golden leg, then suddenly tossed the now two-legged lamb into the air with a laugh. “Go on, fight for it!”

Thus, under the chill moon and gentle breeze, a lively scramble for food began.

“It’s mine!” Zhang Chen was the first to dart forward, knowing full well that no one present was weaker than he and that to hesitate would be to lose.

“Don’t you know to respect your elders?” As Zhang Chen’s hand reached for the lamb, He Anjian’s voice rang out, and he stepped in ahead, reaching for the prize.

“It belongs to me,” declared Jiang Fengnian, who had watched the contest unfold with amusement. In the next instant, the lamb fell into his hands with remarkable speed.

Jiang Fengnian flashed a triumphant smile as everyone turned to him, now the master of the feast.

Amid their expectant stares, he smiled, tore off a foreleg, and tossed it to He Anjian. “Seniority first.”

He Anjian caught the leg with a grin. “Mister Jiang, you are a gentleman.”

Jiang Fengnian smiled, then tore off a piece of golden breast meat and tossed the now nearly bare lamb to Zhang Chen, glancing at Qin Yi. “Nothing left for that one.”

Zhang Chen understood, tore off the last foreleg, and handed the remaining lamb to the old coachman. “Old Man He, you’ve worked hardest on this journey. This is yours.”

The coachman received the lamb with a broad smile, making no pretense as he began to devour it, caring little that Qin Yi had yet to receive so much as a morsel.

Qin Yi simply smiled and let it be.