[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-lord-of-the-immortal-food":3,"chapter-lord-of-the-immortal-food-lord-of-the-immortal-food-chapter-8":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Lord of the Immortal Food",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2313131,4524,"Chapter 8: Chapter Eight: Sword Tassel","lord-of-the-immortal-food-chapter-8",8,"\u003Cp>The incense burner on the table beside the bed caught Pei Ye’s gaze—it was far cleaner than the one before the laughing Buddha outside, clearly wiped down; three piles of pale ash covered its interior, and when Pei Ye pinched a bit to examine, it was fresh, no more than two days old.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the table also lay two old fortune slips, likely written long ago by someone seeking help, now moved directly from before the Buddha statue to this spot; one read “Grow Rich and Eat Meat,” the other “Miaomiao’s In-Laws Treat Her Well.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before the slips stood no statue, only a crooked symbol carved into the tabletop, with a small bronze cup placed before it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pei Ye reached out and picked it up; the cup matched the same design as the four left behind in the woods—it must be the cup the old incense-man spoke of, once holding the Immortal Water.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tucked the cup into his waist pouch, then looked again: beside the bed sat half a bowl of vegetable broth, leftover from morning, clearly indicating the old incense-man had not returned home since parting with him yesterday afternoon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His hope of finding the old incense-man for detailed answers vanished; Pei Ye walked out of the small courtyard with a grim face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Back in his own courtyard, the old man, always frail and prone to sleep, had not yet awakened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pei Ye drew his sword, laid the blade across his forehead, then stepped before the basin and bent low, using the water as a mirror to examine closely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The blood seeping from his brow obscured the symbol, but once wiped clean and the wound gently parted, the mark seemed to have sunk deeper, still branded into flesh and blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the skin were peeled away, it would lie upon the muscle; if the muscle were cut away, it might imprint upon the bone—it was not some foreign thing, but born of his own flesh and blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Was this the mark left by a deity?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The damp chill of autumn rain clung to his skin for the first time; as cold spread, a fury rose—like a chicken or duck marked with straw for slaughter—Pei Ye snapped his head up, as if to lock eyes with something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But only a gray-white, murky sky pressed down heavily; pea-sized raindrops fell straight into his eyes; Pei Ye did not flinch, letting them strike until his eyeballs ached faintly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Long after, Pei Ye muttered: “You only seem to know how to pick dishes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pei Ye prepared the usual meal, carried it into the room, and shook the old man awake; the moment he was propped up, the old man sniffed and rasped: “Why does it smell like blood? Where are you hurt?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he fed the old man, Pei Ye recounted last night’s events in full detail.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man lifted his deep-set eye sockets; where eyebrows should have grown, wrinkles formed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do you know this symbol?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Candle World Sect.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Candle World Sect?” Pei Ye was startled. “You’ve heard of it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Only heard of it, never dealt with it,” the old man said. “Heretical cult—fifty years ago caused several great disasters in the southwest, utterly crushed by the Immortal Platform. Since Shen Yanping doesn’t recognize it, the Immortal Platform must have judged the sect extinct, no longer issuing alerts to local police inspectors.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But now it’s risen from the ashes—what does this sect do?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“As a sect, it naturally serves its deity; I don’t know the specifics. Honestly, when I roamed the world, they were already listed on the Immortal Platform’s ledger of victories—I never witnessed their rise. ” The old man slowly raised his arm; the moment it left its support, it trembled, until he pressed it against Pei Ye’s forearm. “Are they targeting you now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes. But nothing serious—the officials have already requested aid from the province.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man shook his head: “A fire smoldering for fifty years won’t be easily extinguished.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pei Ye fell silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I hope this is merely their final gasp—but better not underestimate your enemy.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pei Ye nodded heavily, then asked: “Uncle Yue, have you heard of ‘Chunshou’?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pei Ye described his dream.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man frowned his bald brow and shook his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pei Ye felt disappointed—he had hoped the old man might offer insight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man’s black eye sockets seemed to pierce through the soul: “Why ask about this? What’s weighing on your mind?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pei Ye fell silent, saying nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He truly had many emotions he longed to pour out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For instance, his wariness toward the Black Chi. The Candle World Sect’s attention toward him was traceable—he was one of twelve offerings with superior dantian seeds—but why had the Black Chi chosen him alone? What was its purpose?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For instance, the anger he had to clamp down with reason: he must cower like a rabbit fleeing a wolf, because these monsters had slaughtered his kin and friends, and he was next.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet in the end, he said nothing. For the old man before him was no reclusive sage from a tale—he was merely a pitiful creature fallen into the mud; his weakness and helplessness were real, not feigned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Nothing much. Let’s wait until this is over. Tonight I’ll sleep at the county office—the officials will protect us there. I made extra food; help yourself when you’re hungry. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Pei Ye changed the subject.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man slowly nodded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The boy walked toward the door, when the old man suddenly said: “Little Ye.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Before a tiger, there are no ravines.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“...Mm.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pei Ye returned to his room, went to the cabinet, moved aside clothes, and pulled out a sword case from the hidden compartment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He unfastened the clasp; a long sword lay within.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was not a treasure-sword, nor a divine blade—just a good sword.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This sword was the prize he won at the Mid-Autumn Martial Tournament when he was fourteen; its craftsmanship was sturdy and solid, the scabbard wrapped in rosewood and cowhide, the hilt tightly bound with fine red cord, the hundred-fold forged blade glinting like rippling river water under sunlight, every detail perfectly balanced and comfortable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pei Ye dreaded wearing it down—he’d never used it in daily practice; this sword had not left the courtyard in nearly two years.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he drew it from the case, the tassel hanging from the pommel brushed his wrist; Pei Ye paused.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tassel was woven from black silk, exquisitely made, with a tiny white jade column dangling from it; Pei Ye knew it bore sixteen small characters: “Grateful for your noble virtue, heart hidden in jade; crane-bone, bamboo-spirit, never falling from azure clouds”—only when held close could one read them clearly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was woven for him by Lin Jue two years ago on his birthday, shortly after his dantian seed was damaged; the girl often came quietly to comfort and encourage him. When the tassel was first tied to the sword, both were delighted; to prove he hadn’t given up, Pei Ye immediately performed the sword techniques Uncle Yue had taught him—though lacking true essence, they were still sharp and graceful enough to make the girl’s face flush with excitement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, if he truly faced battle, this tassel would be a hindrance; Pei Ye gently untied it and stored it away properly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rummaged through his wardrobe, changed into a clean, practical outfit, swapped his straw sandals for boots, took the sword in hand, and bundled the wine and medicine together.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he stepped outside, a willow branch brushed his cheek; Pei Ye waved it away irritably and strode northward.\u003C\u002Fp>",1275,"2026-06-20T13:17:09.438Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","2f41a1a6dfa8235177d37825bfebb3676a8a40ec1bbaeb406c1fb745376410a0","lord-of-the-immortal-food-chapter-9","lord-of-the-immortal-food-chapter-7",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Flord-of-the-immortal-food-cover.jpg"]