Morning settled over the secluded courtyard. The golden sun rose slowly above the peaks, its rays piercing through the dark-colored lattice windows of the siheyuan's main house. Dust motes drifted lazily in the beams of light, and the wooden floor, warmed by the first touch of the sun, began to glow faintly.
The young miss stirred. Still lying on the floor, she felt the sun tickle her cheeks. With a soft groan, she lifted a hand to shield her eyes and squinted at her unfamiliar surroundings. The memories of the previous night returned, along with the voice of the hidden master, whose words had carried them into safety.
She yawned again, stretching her arms above her head while her bottom remained on the floor. Her joints popped softly as she leaned left, then right, loosening the stiffness of sleep. Finally, she rose to her feet, remarking to herself with mild surprise, "The master was right. The floor did feel comfortable to sleep on."
Yet something was amiss. The three companions who had lain with her in the main house were nowhere to be seen. Jian Feng, who had chosen a distant corner of the room last night out of modesty, was also absent. A faint crease of worry appeared on her brow, but before she could think further, another sensation drew her full attention.
An aroma.
It drifted through the cracks in the wooden windows like an enchantment. A smell so rich and fragrant that her stomach betrayed her with a growl. It was unlike anything the sect had ever prepared for her, unlike the finest spirit beast meat or the most delicate of dishes. It was deep, earthy, and soothing, carrying the essence of warmth itself.
"Where… is that coming from?" she whispered, her lips parted in awe.
Driven by curiosity and hunger, she followed the invisible trail. Stepping outside, she was greeted by the sight of the courtyard bathed in the soft gold of morning. The autumn-colored tree stood proudly in the center, its leaves catching the wind like scattered fire, while the cool mountain air refreshed her lungs. But the young miss's focus was unwavering, she could only follow the alluring fragrance.
Descending the short stairs of the main house, she noticed something strange. The rocking chair beside the autumn tree was empty. Her brows furrowed slightly. "Where did the master go?" she thought. But before she could wonder further, the scent grew stronger, pulling her gaze toward the west wing of the house.
There, she froze.
Her three companions. Ling Yue, Jing Hua, and Jian Feng were crouched beside the slightly opened door, their faces pressed against a crack as they peered inside. The sight of the three, dignified disciples reduced to peeking like mischievous children, almost made her laugh. Suppressing it, she approached silently and tapped Ling Yue on the shoulder.
Ling Yue, utterly absorbed in her spying, jumped with a muffled gasp at the sudden touch. Her eyes darted back, only to meet the questioning gaze of her young miss. Embarrassment instantly colored her cheeks.
"W-what are you doing?" the young miss asked, half laughing, half reproachful. "Isn't it rude to peek under the master's roof? We were given a shelter, shouldn't we respect his privacy?"
The other two, Jing Hua and Jian Feng, stiffened as though caught stealing from the sect's treasury. Both turned their faces toward her, equally mortified.
Ling Yue cleared her throat nervously. "Young miss… rather than explaining… it is better for you to see it yourself."
The young miss blinked. Her companions were teaching her to peek? She should have scolded them, but the fragrance wafting from within tugged mercilessly at her senses. She hesitated only for a heartbeat before moving closer, and the trio, still embarrassed, shuffled aside to make room.
Through the narrow gap, she saw him.
The hidden master.
His long, soft hair from last night was now tied into a simple ponytail, falling neatly behind his back. He stood before a crude wooden table that looked newly placed, his hands moving with graceful precision. A knife in his grip chopped down unfamiliar herbs upon a board, while beside him a steel pot bubbled and hissed over a crackling flame. Smoke rose with the steam, guided out of the open windows, carrying with it the irresistible fragrance that had lured her here.
At first glance, it seemed ordinary. Cooking, nothing more. But to their eyes, the scene was extraordinary.
The pot did not release steam alone. Golden smoke rose in elegant swirls, infused with the essence of powerful herbs. Each movement of the master, each flick of his wrist, seemed less like simple cooking and more like a dance. The way the knife descended was refined, as though following some hidden rhythm. Even the bubbling of the pot seemed to accompany him in harmony, turning the room into a stage for his effortless grace.
The four watchers held their breath. It was as if a ritual was unfolding before them.
Yet for Zhang Wei himself, everything was normal. He was just cooking. Ordinary congee, bland as ever, with the ingredients provided by his system. His expression remained calm, but inwardly his thoughts swirled.
He had noticed them the moment Jian Feng pressed his eye to the door crack. Then Jing Hua joined, then Ling Yue, and now even the young miss. All four were spying on him.
"What are these people poking their eyes at?" he thought irritably. "It's not like I'm crafting some ancient secret technique. I'm literally making bland congee."
His mind drifted back to the previous night. He had been dozing peacefully on his rocking chair, basking in the glow of his new hidden master persona, when the system rudely dropped his daily rewards onto his face. Midnight, system time, meant new rewards: a ten-kilogram sack of rice that nearly crushed his nose, boxes of herbs, and, bizarrely, household items.
Now, tucked in the corner of the courtyard was a polished broom. In this west wing room, the crude but ancient-looking table and six cushioned chairs had been placed. At least it looked respectable. Zhang Wei had even thought to himself, Good. Now these visitors won't need to eat on the floor. Still, he remembered painfully that last night he had told them his house was devoid of furniture because "furniture is a distraction." If they remembered that excuse, he'd have to repeat it again today to save face.
His jaw tightened. "And after all that… after acting like a master, making them promise me delicacies, healing that short-haired girl, giving them a place to sleep… after all that, this is what they do? Pry into my personal space?"
He felt as though they were watching him naked. His annoyance boiled.
Then, Zhang Wei coughed deliberately. A soft, but sharp sound that cut through the bubbling of the pot. Instantly, the four outside stiffened, their hearts jumping in unison.
Zhang Wei let his expression remain calm, though his irritation bubbled beneath. Switching into his hidden master mode, he spoke slowly, his voice carrying both rebuke and poise.
"Those who pry where they should not will find no treasure, only shame. To watch without leave, when your debt remains unpaid… that is not the way of honor."
The words were simple, but the cadence gave them a poetic edge, as though they belonged to a tale passed down through generations.
The young miss jerked back from the crack, heart pounding. Jing Hua was the first to bow, forehead nearly touching the ground. "Master, forgive us! Our actions were rash!"
Ling Yue and Jian Feng followed in unison, voices overlapping in apology. Even the young miss bent low, cheeks flushed. "We were curious, but it was rude of us. Please pardon this offense."
The fragrance of the golden congee still wafted around them, but none dared lift their heads.
Zhang Wei glanced over at them, half-amused, half-exasperated. So quick to bow, so quick to grovel. You peek at me like children spying on their neighbor and then fold yourselves flatter than dried leaves in the wind. At least they know shame… though it's me they call benefactor.
Outwardly, he waved a hand with deliberate calm, his sleeve swaying as if such trivialities could not touch him.
"Enough. I forgive you. But mark this well, this master despises being peered upon. Do not let such a thing occur again."
"Yes, Master!" the four answered in unison, their voices carrying the vigor of an oath. "We will never do it again!"
Zhang Wei gave a slight nod, his expression unmoved though inside he was smirking. Well-trained dogs. That was easy. Aloud, he said, "Good. Then rise."
They lifted themselves carefully, hands still clasped respectfully in front of their bodies. Zhang Wei gestured lazily toward the table where the crude bowls awaited.
"Sit. Eat. I have prepared a simple congee."
The word struck them like thunder. Eat? And simple congee? Their eyes darted to one another in disbelief. What simmered in that pot was anything but simple. Even the rising steam carried an essence so rich it made their skin prickle, their veins hum with vigor. Yet the master dismissed it as though it were water and rice.
Jian Feng, the first to recover, bowed deeply.
"To share even a spoonful of your meal, Master, is a grace beyond measure. This is no simple food but a treasure to strengthen body and soul. I thank you with all my heart."
The three women followed quickly, their voices overlapping in their reverence.
"We thank Master for such generosity. To partake in food steeped in such essence… it is truly a blessing."
Zhang Wei stared at them, lips twitching. Are they serious? It's congee. Bland, tasteless, honest-to-goodness congee. Sure, I threw in a few weeds the system dumped on me, but is that enough to make them bow like I'm feeding them liquid immortality? If I took a dump, would they see it as some profound Daoist art?
Suppressing the laugh bubbling in his throat, he only sighed and flicked his hand as if brushing away smoke.
"Sit already."
They obeyed, almost tripping over themselves to claim their places around the table. Zhang Wei turned back to the pot, giving it a stir. The chopped leaves he had tossed in earlier swirled within, their fragrance wafting upward. Weirdest-looking herbs I've ever seen. But hey, the system gave them to me. If they're poisonous, I'll just haunt it later. At least the flavor isn't terrible.
Ling Yue leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she studied the herbs dissolving in the broth. That aura… stronger than a five-hundred-year-old ginseng. And yet I've never seen its like before.
Jing Hua shared her awe, her warrior's instincts telling her this was no mere garnish. Jian Feng's brow furrowed as he measured the potency, silently comparing it against every resource his sect had treasured for generations. Even the young miss, whose cultivation had not yet truly bloomed, felt the distinct richness lingering in the air. She remembered the countless meals of spirit beast meat and rare herbs prepared for her by her family, and yet none of them compared to the aroma that rose from this pot.
Meanwhile, Zhang Wei casually ladled out the congee as if serving dishwater. With each pour, the liquid gleamed faintly, cascading into the bowls like molten gold. To the cultivators, it was as though a stream of life itself was being served before them.
Balancing two bowls in his hands, Zhang Wei set them on the table, then returned for the remaining two. "If you want more, serve yourselves. But do not waste a single grain."
"Yes, Master!" they chorused again, reverence thick in their tone.
Zhang Wei ignored their burning stares, ladling a portion for himself into a cracked old bowl. He plucked a crude wooden spoon from the pile and, with all the grace of a farmer, stepped toward the sliding door.
"This is enough for me. I will take mine in the courtyard. As for you… finish what is in the pot, if you can."
With that, he slid the door open, stepped out, and shut it behind him.
The moment his presence faded, the four at the table could no longer restrain themselves. Spoons clutched tightly, they dipped into the steaming bowls, their movements frantic yet oddly reverent, as if every bite carried it's own blessing.