Chapter 1959: Zhong Ling: The Food in Jiangnan Is Sweet?

What other realms, what immortals—she had originally thought Mu Sister was just rambling from the shock.

After all, the matter was too huge.

Master wasn't Master—he was Mother; Father hadn't died, he was the Southern Pacification King.

Wasn't she herself also shaken to her core by her own origins, so much so she wanted to run away from home?

Someone as proud as Mu Sister would surely be hit even harder.

But the result—Mu Sister didn't go mad; instead, she herself had become a bit foolish.

Mu Wanqing sniffed coldly: "Do you think I'd lie to a little girl like you? Hmph, you nodded when I told you before—so you were just fooling me all along!"

Zhong Ling smiled awkwardly: "I was just afraid of upsetting you, Mu Sister."

She changed the subject: "Mu Sister, if that's true, does that mean we can actually go to other worlds? Do the people there look just like us?"

Humans are always curious about aliens, let alone humans from other worlds.

This curiosity transcends time.

Any sentient being possesses curiosity.

Zhong Ling was at an age brimming with curiosity, so she naturally found matters of other worlds fascinating.

Mu Wanqing smirked: "In other worlds, there are people who look just like us—and also demons, monsters, and spirits..."

Zhong Ling's eyes sparkled: "How amazing! Animals can even cultivate into human form? Then can my Thunder Weasel become a person too?"

As she spoke, the Thunder Weasel in her beast pouch, thinking she was being called, poked its head out, saw it was midair, shrieked, nearly fell, and quickly scrambled back inside.

Mu Wanqing smiled: "If you nurture it properly, of course it can."

Yet inside, she silently mused: "This Thunder Weasel is truly lucky—because our fates changed, it survived; otherwise, it would have long been dead meat under the Python's Red Toad's claws."

Zhong Ling asked: "Mu Sister, can't we go to the other world sooner? Is there anything more fun in Jiangnan than other worlds?"

"Going to Jiangnan isn't just for fun," Mu Wanqing shook her head. "The Southern Pacification King doesn't have just the two of us as daughters."

Zhong Ling was stunned: "Do we have more sisters and brothers?"

Mu Wanqing nodded: "Yes."

Zhong Ling fell silent, at a loss for words.

True qi cultivators fly swiftly; in mere moments, Zhong Ling saw the buildings below grow dense—unlike Dali, where people were sparse, Jiangnan, a prosperous and wealthy land, naturally teemed with life.

This stirred Zhong Ling deeply.

In novels she often read, Jiangnan was described as paradise on earth—she wondered how many delicious foods and fun things were there.

Thinking of this, even her inner gloom lifted somewhat.

Youth knows not the taste of sorrow.

The worries of youths and maidens come quickly—and go just as fast.

Zhong Ling found a topic: "Mu Sister, is the food in Jiangnan good?"

"For locals, it's fine," Mu Wanqing's expression turned peculiar. "But for us, you might find it hard to get used to."

Every region's cuisine has its reasons.

Sichuan is damp, so they favor spicy and numbing flavors; Lingnan is dry, so they prefer light dishes and enjoy simmered cooling herbal teas...

For locals, the flavors formed over generations suit their constitutions best.

But for outsiders, it's a different story.

Ask a Lingnan person to eat Sichuan food—he might think it incomprehensible: the dish has no taste, the chicken has no chicken flavor.

Ask a Sichuan person to eat Lingnan food—he'll find it strange: this food is bland and tasteless—how can you eat it?

In short, it's impossible to please everyone.