Chapter 565

Xia He was born with the ability "Breath Muscle," which allows her to passively emit a Qi field and manipulate the emotions and desires of others.

This ability is completely beyond her own control, causing her to be viewed by those around her since childhood

as a "demoness" and an outsider, suffering endless discrimination, exclusion, and objectification.

She longed to establish normal interpersonal relationships, but her very existence would cause others to sink,

which left her in a state of extreme loneliness and pain for a long time.

Zhang Jie and Zhang Chulan, as well as the Junior Uncle of Long Hu Shan, Lingyu Zhenren,

Zhang Lingyu was the only person in Xia He's life who had given her true care and warmth.

She pinned all her deep affection on this Junior Uncle of Long Hu Shan.

However, due to the intimate contact that occurred because of a single moment of weakness (insertion) that night,

it resulted in Zhang Lingyu being unable to cultivate the "Yang Five Thunders," which are extremely Yang and pure, and he could only switch to cultivating the Yin Five Thunders.

Because Zhang Lingyu could not face this imperfect self,

and because he cared deeply about the reputation of being an orthodox disciple of the Heavenly Master Mansion and the eyes of the world, he ultimately chose to escape and leave.

In Xia He's view, this was no different from being abandoned by the person she loved most.

She did not understand Zhang Lingyu's hidden bitterness and only felt huge betrayal and despair.

In order to take revenge, and also out of self-abandonment, she decided to join the greatest opposite of Long Hu Shan—Quansheng.

The so-called "orthodox sects" excluded her because of her ability and identity,

while the Quansheng sect emphasizes "preserving one's true nature" and is not constrained by worldly rules and morality.

For Xia He, Quansheng was the only place that did not treat her as an outsider and could accept her true abilities.

During her most desperate time, she met Dou Mei, the "Gut-Piercing Poison," one of the "Four Madmen" of Quansheng.

Under Dou Mei's persuasion, Xia He finally accepted her fate and joined Quansheng.

After joining Quansheng, she relied on her abilities to become the terrifying "Bone-Scraping Knife,"

and although this identity was full of notoriety, it also gave her a twisted sense of belonging and a protective color.

Of course, as a bystander who sees things clearly, Zhang Jie felt that

when Xia He joined Quansheng, there might have been a trace of an extremely humble thought hidden deep in her heart.

That is, she hoped that by using this extreme method, she could force Zhang Lingyu, who was an orthodox disciple,

to come down the mountain himself to "subdue demons," so that she could see him again.

Emmmmm... how should I put it?

Upon learning the true relationship between Xia He and Zhang Lingyu, Zhang Jie could only sigh,

as the entanglement between an evil demoness and an orthodox young hero is always a topic everyone loves to see.

After sighing, Zhang Jie continued to bury himself in the research of this True Qi.

Cultivation knows no time; in a flash, the golden sun that had not yet reached the zenith had already set in the west,

leaving only the sunset clouds mixed with bright gold and bright red, as if it were its reluctant sigh.

"It really isn't that simple."

Zhang Jie sighed, slowly opened his eyes, and let the sunset clouds on the horizon reflect in his eyes.

He tried to analyze, or even replicate, Xia He's True Qi; clearly, he failed.

However, Zhang Jie was not too disappointed: if the abilities of innate extraordinary individuals were so easy to research,

there wouldn't be so many innate extraordinary individuals in the extraordinary world relying on their innate abilities to dominate the region.

And that problem that plagued many innate extraordinary individuals—

that is, the innate abilities of innate extraordinary individuals interfered with their cultivation of cultivation methods,

leading to the fact that innate extraordinary individuals often had to explore and open up the path forward alone,

so their cultivation speed was extremely slow, and some innate extraordinary individuals even went their whole lives

without their abilities making any progress—had already been solved.

"Brother Jie, it's time to eat."

Zhang Chulan, whose cultivation and status were the lowest, consciously took on the responsibility of cooking.

"Okay."

Zhang Jie put down his research on True Qi, got up, and walked out of the quiet room for cultivation,

preparing to participate in one of the two most important things in life—eating.

Although with his cultivation, not to mention completely drinking the wind and eating the dew, or fasting,

not drinking or eating for months or even years was not a problem at all,

but as an ordinary person who had only recently shared power from other Zhang Jies,

he still maintained his old habit of eating three meals a day.

Besides, Confucius said it well, "Eating and sex are human nature."

The two most important things in life are eating and sex; one is a necessary behavior to maintain one's own existence,

and the other comes from the human body's instinct to spread and continue its own existence.

Zhang Jie currently has no need for sex and plans to let nature take its course;

in short, it's the three principles of a scumbag: don't take the initiative, don't deny, don't take responsibility.

He is, however, very interested in eating; even immortals have the desire for food.

Otherwise, where would the dragon liver, phoenix marrow, flat peaches, and golden pills of the Heavenly Palace come from?

Following the guiding principle of "if you're not active in eating, there's something wrong with your thinking," Zhang Jie finished his practice and got up,

walked out of the quiet room, and saw that Zhang Chulan had already set the food on a small table.

Braised pork, fish-flavored eggplant, shredded potatoes with vinegar, and a three-fresh soup,

all home-cooked dishes, steaming hot, clearly just out of the pot.

As for how a villa that is clearly in a Syrian war-torn style could have a kitchen, kitchenware, and ingredients all ready?

Well, even the local people in Syria have to eat, right?

"Brother Jie."

Zhang Chulan diligently offered the bowls and chopsticks.

Zhang Jie felt that he had been pretty good to him, so he accepted them.

As for Feng Baobao, she had already filled her bowl with rice and picked up her chopsticks,

her big eyes staring tigerishly at the steaming dishes,

just waiting for Zhang Jie to take his seat and for everyone to be present before launching a righteous attack on them.

Zhang Jie picked up a piece of braised pork and put it into his mouth; after chewing slightly, he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows and praise:

"The taste is not bad; I didn't expect you to have this skill, Chulan."

Zhang Chulan chose high-quality pork belly with three layers of fat and lean meat, alternating fat and lean,

and combined with just the right amount of various seasonings and sauces, the taste was truly not bad.

If there was one flaw, it was that the time for frying the sugar color was a bit short, and the sugar color was slightly light.

But the flaws did not obscure the merits.

Zhang Chulan's skills naturally could not compare to those of Tianlong Zhang Jie or Shuihu Zhang Jie,

who had been imperial chefs in the palace for decades, but they were not bad compared to ordinary chefs.

Let's put it this way: even if Zhang Chulan chose to continue hiding his name and stopped going to school,

if he went to a slightly prosperous street to open a home-cooked restaurant, he would definitely not starve to death.

"Brother Jie, you flatter me; it's just a few home-cooked dishes."

Zhang Chulan answered modestly, but the slightly curled corners of his mouth revealed his happy heart.

Since his grandfather passed away and his father disappeared, he had been alone; although he spent most of his time at school,

he ate in the cafeteria, but the taste of school cafeterias—especially the limited choices in junior high and

high school cafeterias—is something everyone who has attended middle school knows deeply;

after all, the first principle of mass cooking has never been color, aroma, and taste,

but safety, which is also why there is rarely fish in school cafeterias.

So he inevitably needed to cook, both to ensure that on Saturdays,

Sundays, and winter and summer vacations, he wouldn't be stupid enough to starve himself to death,

and also to comfort his own stomach; over the years, he had practiced a set of skills.

The mutual flattery between Zhang Jie and Zhang Chulan did not last more than a few sentences before it ended.

"Wow, wow."

Because while they were chatting, Feng Baobao had already started eating as if to take revenge,

and that pair of chopsticks was almost moving so fast they left an afterimage.

Zhang Jie and Zhang Chulan also hurriedly joined in; a few minutes later,

given Sister Bao'er's style, they were afraid they wouldn't even have the pot-washing water to drink.