Chapter 26: Sharpening the Knife Doesn

Feng Xue really wanted to remind Liu Yunxi that humans wear other clothes under their skirts, but after thinking it over, he decided that from now on, he’d just turn her into a ring whenever they went out.

Hmm, if only I’m the one seeing it, this fashion sense of Feng Xue still scores pretty high!

Yes, Liu Yunxi—that’s the white snake’s name, or rather, the name written on the hem of her skirt.

“Yes, that’s right, Liu Yunxi! Haven’t used it since the Fox Immortal Grandma left, but I was clever enough to get her to write it on my treasure!”

Liu Yunxi nodded vigorously, as if delighted that her name had finally found a proper use.

Feng Xue was happy to admire it, but then he realized a somewhat serious problem—

“You can’t read?”

“I’m a demon—why should I learn to read?” Liu Yunxi’s retort left Feng Xue speechless. He wanted to ask the Fox Immortal Grandma, but from her expression, he knew she’d never taught her.

After a moment’s thought, he pointed—

“You look like a snake!”

“You look like a perfect maid who speaks twelve languages and masters eight cuisines!”

Overlapping voices exploded with smoke; watching Liu Yunxi within the haze, Feng Xue didn’t need to ask—just from her “wise” expression, he knew it had failed.

“I didn’t gain any new languages in my head. By the way, what are the eight cuisines?” Liu Yunxi had transformed twice in rapid succession, but her face bore no smile like last night—instead, it wore a look of deep suffering.

But if one looked closely, this bitterness was entirely different from the initial rage she’d felt when changing forms and being humiliated. If forced to describe it, it was like the panic after the college entrance exam—suddenly remembering you forgot to fill in the answer sheet—on the verge of collapse, yet frantically wondering if you’d just misremembered.

Feng Xue, however, didn’t notice this nuance. He was still disappointed that his idea—“tell the white snake what salt and sugar are, then let her learn to cook from a recipe”—had failed. The beautiful future of quitting his job to cultivate seemed no longer within reach.

He had considered trying to accidentally reincarnate into a modern cultivation world, but first, he wasn’t sure whether he’d return to his original world or be randomly transported to a new one—and landing precisely in a modernized world was difficult.

Second, although his cultivation system didn’t rely on external sources, from Liu Yunxi’s mention of “humanity’s way” and the fragments he’d heard from Qian Daochang’s disciples about the “Underworld,” there might be hidden rules in this world. If he went to another world and couldn’t cultivate, and couldn’t return, that would be true despair.

So even if he had to reincarnate again, it would only be after learning some spells and gaining self-defense ability. Of course, if he could quickly attain a Nascent Soul and extend his lifespan, Feng Xue wouldn’t mind waiting sixteen years here to see how the Emperor’s Dew worked.

Seeing that Liu Yunxi would be useless in the short term, Feng Xue could only tie on an apron and walk into the kitchen.

The ingredients today were bought by Ya Zi, but they were fresher and more abundant than Feng Xue had imagined: not only a still-living perch and a basket of eggs, but also five or six kinds of vegetables—bok choy, bean sprouts, green peppers—and dried goods like seaweed and shiitake mushrooms. However, there was no meat—perhaps because he worried it wasn’t fresh, or because it was too late to buy.

Seeing Liu Yunxi standing like a wooden statue outside, Feng Xue turned and waved her in, but didn’t teach her how to cook. Instead, he began cleaning the fish and picking vegetables himself.

Though her mind was in shambles, Liu Yunxi forced herself not to turn away. She stood frozen at the doorway, watching Feng Xue rush about for nearly an hour before he finally prepared four dishes and one soup.

“Steamed perch, stir-fried bean sprouts, vinegar-braised bok choy, and seaweed egg drop soup. Too bad no tomatoes—had to settle for green pepper scrambled eggs.”

As Feng Xue muttered, he watched Liu Yunxi automatically carry the dishes to the table. He nodded in satisfaction, ladled two bowls of rice, and walked to the table, waving at the dazed Liu Yunxi.

“Stop standing there like an idiot. Sit down and eat with me.”

“Huh? But I can already live without food…” Liu Yunxi showed no interest in food at all, but Feng Xue insisted firmly:

“Eat. If you don’t know what tastes good or bad, how are you going to learn to cook?”

“Oh…” Liu Yunxi, thinking of her current situation, held back the words “I never wanted to learn to cook.” Instead, she kept repeating in her mind, “This is my bestowed master,” and with the spoon Feng Xue had given her, clumsily scooped up a bite of green pepper scrambled eggs.

“Sigh, I haven’t cooked in too long—my skills have rusted.” Seeing Liu Yunxi cooperate, Feng Xue also picked up a piece of steamed perch and put it in his mouth. Though his knife skills were lacking, the fish’s freshness made up for it. Just as he reached for a second bite, he suddenly heard Liu Yunxi’s muffled exclamation—

“What is this? This is called delicious? Do humans eat so many flavors every day?”

“Uh… that’s a hard question to answer.” Feng Xue looked at Liu Yunxi’s eyes sparkling with wonder and suddenly realized the ancient trope—“a grilled meat dish lures a divine beast, a good dish tricks a beauty”—was actually working.

But then he realized the problem—

Liu Yunxi had been a snake before!

Everyone knows snakes have no taste buds, don’t chew, and swallow prey whole by dislocating their jaws. After eating, their digestion period is when they’re most vulnerable.

So snakes probably don’t understand the joy of eating.

As he pondered this, he saw Liu Yunxi struggling for a long time to scoop bean sprouts with her porcelain spoon—finally, she reached out with her hand. Feng Xue reacted instantly, striking her wrist with his chopsticks.

But even though her cultivation had just been stripped, Liu Yunxi’s demon-form body was far superior to Feng Xue’s. She easily dodged the strike, yet didn’t reach out again—only suppressed her hunger and said:

“You told me to eat. Now you’re reluctant?”

“Who’s reluctant? Just don’t use your hands! Use utensils, understand? Learn to use chopsticks, or slowly use the spoon. If I catch you grabbing food with your hands, I’ll turn you to stone!”

As Feng Xue spoke, he suddenly felt like a kindergarten teacher. But Liu Yunxi clearly didn’t think that way. She merely nodded weakly, repeating in her mind, “This is my bestowed master,” picked up the chopsticks beside her, and clumsily tried to pick up food.

Fortunately, demon-forms had extraordinary control over their bodies. Just as Feng Xue was finishing his meal, she finally mastered the technique—and began devouring the slightly cooled dishes with the force of a whirlwind.

Experiencing the sensation of taste for the first time, Liu Yunxi’s features softened. But then, a voice entered her ears—

“Come to the study after eating. Today, you begin learning Chinese characters. I hope your mind is as sharp as your body…”

(The black silk qipao was flagged by moderation; the author left, and fans used other AI to modify it into a white silk maid—please make do.)

Regarding high-magic and low-magic, this definition originates from D&D—it doesn’t refer to combat power, but to the prevalence of magic (or supernatural forces).

If in a world, magic is universally known, everyone can learn and master it, even using magic to clean the toilet, and someone who can’t use magic is seen as disabled—even if magic’s upper limit is only as powerful as a grenade—that world is still high-magic.

Conversely, if magic exists only in the hands of a tiny few, ordinary people have never encountered it, may have never even seen a magical object in their lifetime—even if those few can destroy the world with a single blow—that world is still low-magic.

In web novels, what’s often called “high-magic” or “low-magic” should, if strictly defined, be called “high-power” or “low-power”—not martial arts, but martial power: high or low levels of force.

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(End of chapter)