Crafty Old Foxes

Yin Wudao turned around and bowed his cupped hands toward Chen Zhou, his face filled with apology.

"Exalted, I am truly sorry."

"I did not expect such an accident to occur, disturbing your pleasure."

"I find myself feeling somewhat unwell now and fear I cannot continue to accompany you. I shall take my leave first."

"This Red Rain Night Banquet shall be resumed on another day."

After speaking, surrounded by his palace attendants, he boarded the large sedan and hurried toward the deep palace.

Of the two giants, one had "lost control" and the other was "heavily injured," leaving only Chen Zhou sitting in his original spot.

The surviving demons were trembling with fear, unsure whether to stay or leave, only able to look expectantly at the sole remaining big shot.

Chen Zhou hadn't expected to see such a brilliant performance just by attending a random banquet.

They were both old foxes; what was the point of this charade?

Cangming was clearly faking it.

He had chosen to target Chen Zhou first, which was obviously a show for Yin Wudao.

Then, he used that strike to force Yin Wudao to reveal his methods, testing the man's hidden cards.

As for why he did this?

Chen Zhou had an intuition that Cangming needed something from him. The prince was showing goodwill, and with significant sincerity at that.

Cangming had proactively provoked Yin Wudao’s hatred, even going as far as to leave himself half-dead just to set the Eastern Region and the Ghost Dynasty against each other.

By also attacking Chen Zhou, he ensured that Yin Wudao wouldn't suspect Chen Zhou of being his accomplice.

Cangming had kept Chen Zhou out of the crossfire, even placing the initiative directly into his hands.

'I don't know what he's after, but he's a clever man who knows how to curry favor with me.'

As for whether or not to accept this loyalty pledge, that would depend on what he wanted.

Now that the protagonists of the night banquet had left, Chen Zhou didn't feel like facing this ragtag bunch of demons any longer.

He stood up and looked at Song Zi'an behind him.

He found that Song Zi'an had still not come to his senses; he was still holding the spatula in that same posture, his eyes glazed over.

"Zi'an?"

Chen Zhou called out.

Song Zi'an's whole body jolted as if he had been suddenly pulled out of water. He gasped for breath, and his eyes gradually regained their focus.

"L-Lord?"

Song Zi'an looked at the mess around him, a look of bewilderment on his face. "What... what happened? Why is everyone lying down?"

Chen Zhou shook his head. "You've been distracted like this ever since you finished cooking. What's wrong?"

Song Zi'an was stunned for a moment, then an extremely complex expression appeared on his face.

There was nostalgia, excitement, and a hint of confusion.

"Lord, it's nothing."

"It's just... just now, while I was preparing the spiritual meal, I felt as if Master was right beside me."

Song Zi'an looked at his hands, his voice trembling slightly.

"Truly, that feeling was too real."

"It was just like it used to be on Zhenlong Mountain. He stood behind me, holding my hand, teaching me step-by-step how to control the fire, how to toss the wok, and how to lock the spiritual energy into the ingredients."

"It felt like... Master and I completed this spiritual meal together."

As Song Zi'an spoke, he grew more excited, and the rims of his eyes turned slightly red.

"Master often said that the best chef is one who can make diners finish a meal with a smile."

"To let them forget their sorrows and homesickness after eating—the place where the heart is at peace is one's home."

"That is why Master’s specialty was this Soul-Settling Banquet. Eating it brings peace to the mind and stabilizes the human soul."

"In the past, my skills were lacking, and I could only manage to cook the Serene Banquet, which barely calms the nerves. But today, I performed beyond my level and actually cooked the Soul-Settling Banquet that only Master could make."

Song Zi'an looked up at Chen Zhou, his eyes full of hope.

"Lord, do you think... Master is really in this palace?"

"That he's right beside me, watching me?"

Chen Zhou frowned slightly.

The Heavenly Chef was right here?

He had been right next to Song Zi'an just now, but when the dish was finished, Chen Zhou hadn't sensed any unfamiliar soul fluctuations at all.

As an evil god, Chen Zhou had sacrificed countless soul materials. He was intimately familiar with souls and even had the Law-Evaluating Eye.

If Song Zi'an had successfully summoned a soul through cooking, or if a remnant soul of the Heavenly Chef had possessed him, it would have been impossible for Chen Zhou not to notice.

"Are you sure it was just a feeling?" Chen Zhou asked in a low voice.

"Did you hear any sounds? Or see any shadows?"

Song Zi'an tried hard to recall, but finally shook his head dejectedly.

"I apologize for my foolishness, My Lord. I did not."

"It was just a feeling."

"I just inexplicably felt that Master was there."

"I don't know why. Perhaps... I simply miss Master too much."

Chen Zhou pondered.

He didn't think Song Zi'an would feel the Heavenly Chef’s presence or suddenly have an epiphany for no reason.

This palace was full of oddities.

The palace walls that ate paper cranes, the smell of crane feathers Song Zi'an had noticed, and now this strange sense of possession.

Although he had no more leads, Chen Zhou noted this anomaly for now.

Perhaps the Heavenly Chef wasn't dead, or perhaps he existed in a way that even Chen Zhou didn't yet understand.

"In any case, let's head back first."

Chen Zhou looked at the wreckage on the ground. Even the air was thick with an uncomfortable fishy smell.

He beckoned a palace attendant who was shivering behind a pillar.

"Lead the way. Back to the side hall."

As if receiving a great pardon, the attendant scrambled up and bowed to lead the way.

Chen Zhou strode away with Song Zi'an and the Little Pig, allowing all the restless demons on the scene to instantly breathe a sigh of relief.

That baleful star had finally left. Safe, they were safe.

On the way back, the red rain continued.

The Little Pig floated behind Chen Zhou, seemingly not yet over the regret of not getting to fight.

It stared fiercely at the demons who had just breathed sighs of relief, baring its teeth and opening its fiendish eye.

"Hmph—"

The Little Pig made a face at them.

The surviving demons shrieked in terror, scrambling to crawl under the tables.

Chen Zhou patted its head. "Stop messing around. Let's go back and see if Wugou has returned."

They arrived back at the side hall.

The Sea Race's station next door was still cordoned off by high curtains of blue water, blocking all perception.

Chen Zhou pushed open the door to his temporary residence.

As soon as he entered, he saw a youth sitting cross-legged on a chair, happily munching on a spirit fruit.

Having not seen him for a few days, Wugou had actually grown again.

He now looked like a youth of fourteen or fifteen, with red lips, white teeth, and clear features.

Wugou was pinching a wriggling strand of black qi that looked like a small earthworm, which was struggling desperately between his fingertips.

"Y-You... are you Little Master Wugou?"

Song Zi'an looked at the youth before him, utterly shocked.

It had only been a few days—how had that young child turned into a teenage boy?

He was growing way too fast!

Wugou chuckled and hopped down from the chair, performing a Buddhist salute toward Song Zi'an.

"Benefactor Song, I trust you have been well."

"Yes, this monk is indeed Wugou."

"I simply grew up a bit in a hurry. After all, the food down there isn't great, and I urgently need to replenish my nutrition."

Wugou rubbed his stomach, looking at Song Zi'an with anticipation.