Chapter 118: A Place Fit for Immortals Is Anything but Ordinary

Above the clouds, silence fell once more. After a long moment, he spoke with a faint hint of displeasure, “Who says immortals can’t feel hunger? After wandering among mortals for a few days, living their daily lives, I’ve grown somewhat accustomed to being human.”

Hearing this, I couldn’t help but laugh softly and asked, “Master, when you take mortals as disciples, did you ever think of learning how to be human yourself?”

I asked with a smile, never expecting an answer, for to me, it was merely a jest. Yet, to my surprise, he pondered quietly for a while, his face thoughtful. The setting sun cast its golden light across his features, and I found myself captivated, unable to tear my gaze away.

“Perhaps,” he finally said.

His answer startled me, and even he couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“If one never experiences the seven emotions and six desires, what difference is there between an immortal and an ordinary person? Immortals possess great love for all under heaven, much like mortal emperors. Their hearts cannot hold only themselves; they must also hold those around them and the people of the world.”

“Oh,” I nodded in understanding.

To carry those around one’s side, to carry all under heaven, to bear the myriad beings of the six realms and the wilds—this is the duty of an immortal? And for him, who in this world would be worth pouring everything into protecting?

The next morning, I rose unusually early. When I arrived outside the Jade Cloud Pavilion, its doors were firmly shut. I presumed that at this hour, Purple Lotus had yet to wake, so I refrained from knocking to disturb him.

Alone, I made my way to the kitchen behind the Purple Star Palace. The celestial cook was not present at the moment. Taking advantage of his absence, I reached into a steaming basket and carefully retrieved a few steamed buns, placing them gently into a bowl with the thought of bringing them back to Purple Lotus for breakfast.

I glanced around the kitchen and stealthily sampled a small dish from the counter. Ugh—how terrible it tasted.

The celestial cook on Lingyun Mountain was truly peculiar. Every morning, breakfast was nothing but steamed buns and plain porridge; dinner was always fish, or more fish. It seemed they never bothered to bring in anything fresh. Looking at the disciples scattered across the mountain, each looked as if skin clung to bone, likely the result of a monotonous diet that left them malnourished.

Carrying a bowl of plain porridge and a plate holding two steamed buns, I prepared to return to the Azure Hall to deliver breakfast to Purple Lotus. As I walked back, the scenery along the way was breathtaking. Beyond the distant palaces and towering peaks, layers of thick, unyielding immortal aura swirled like white mist, draping the mountains like gossamer veils. Nearby, the path was lined with countless unknown celestial plants and blooming flowers of exquisite colors and fragrances, a riot of purples, reds, and pinks—truly a feast for the senses. The abode of immortals was unlike any other. Having spent so many days on Lingyun Mountain, I had yet to witness a single storm, every day bathed in clear skies without a cloud in sight. Though summer had arrived, the air here remained refreshingly cool, never once oppressive with heat.

“Living among immortals is truly wonderful!” I sighed in awe at the splendor before me.

“Ah!” Lost in admiration, I forgot to watch my step.

One person called out, and two people tumbled to the ground.

Rubbing my nearly bruised backside, I looked up to see that I had collided with none other than Windflow Glimmer.

“I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry…” Before she had even risen, she was already anxiously apologizing. I sat quietly on the ground, curiously studying her. As a gentle breeze lifted the strands of hair from her face, I found myself utterly entranced.

“So beautiful!”

Though I had seen countless beauties in the demon realm, none had captivated me like this. Unlike the sultry enchantresses of the demon palace, and unlike Landor’s bold, moist charm, this face bore a certain cool detachment—like an iceberg beauty. It evoked a sense of distance, as if thousands of miles separated her from others. She seemed fragile, yet also commanded a reverence that forbade desecration. Approaching her brought a subtle pressure, a quiet strength beneath her delicate exterior.

“Are you… alright?” Her icy eyes flickered with a hint of panic and stubbornness.

I gazed at her, mesmerized, until I caught a trace of disdain in her eyes. Suddenly, I remembered: to her, I was just a man. Embarrassed, I realized how inappropriate it was for a man to stare so shamelessly and loudly proclaim, “You’re so beautiful!” I quickly stood and brushed myself off. Seeing the bowl of porridge spilled on the ground and buns rolling into the grass, I lost the desire to pick them up. Hastily, I reached out to help her up, but she dodged my hand.

Awkwardness washed over me. I withdrew my hand and forced a sheepish smile. “Senior Sister, my apologies. I was so caught up in the scenery that I didn’t watch where I was going. That’s why I was so careless and bumped into you.”

Noticing the hot porridge had spilled onto her sleeve, I asked quietly, uneasy, “It’s very hot. Did it hurt you?”

“It’s nothing,” she said, seemingly unaware of the stain. Only when I spoke did she glance at her left sleeve covered in porridge. She pulled a white silk handkerchief from her bosom, prepared to wipe it, then hesitated and withdrew her hand. Biting her lip faintly, she rose, shook her sleeve, cast me a cool glance, and walked past me back toward the kitchen.