Chapter 40: Civil and Martial Trials (Part 7): That Was Just to Fool You, Idiot. Part 1

Shang Shan tossed out those words and bolted, her straw sandals clacking away on her feet, nearly kicking them off.

Mu Qian Tan stood there for a moment before walking into the grape arbor.

Amid the thick fruity aroma, three children approached, each holding water caltrops, their faces full of delight as they chattered, “The immortal is truly clever.” “That’s exactly how it should be,” and so on.

They must have been the three kids who had trampled the flowers earlier, arguing when they arrived but leaving happily, their conflict vanished into thin air.

She passed through the grape arbor, crossed a grassy patch, and followed a pebble path until she reached a flat area paved with bluestone slabs.

Jiang Zhouyao pinched the floral tablecloth and spread it over the square table in the center of the flat ground, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles.

Qin He carried two plates of food in each hand, striding forward briskly to the table and setting them down. Shang Shan held one plate of food in one hand and a fistful of chopsticks in the other, also coming over to place them.

These dishes definitely weren’t freshly made, or it wouldn’t have been such perfect timing right as she returned. They had probably been kept simmering in the pot after cooking, and then Shang Shan was sent to fetch her before serving.

What good tempers the hosts had. If it were Mu Qian Tan inviting guests to eat, and they vanished right at mealtime without knowing when they’d return even after the food was ready, she wouldn’t wait—she’d eat her fill and let the guests starve as their own misfortune.

As they set the chopsticks, Shang Shan muttered, “Doesn’t do any work, just plays and eats, such a freeloader… Ow!”

Mu Qian Tan smacked the back of her head. “What are you saying?”

Qin He saw it and instinctively wanted to intervene, but it was someone else’s master disciplining her own disciple—she was the junior here and shouldn’t interfere. She clenched her fists and turned toward the kitchen instead.

Shang Shan grabbed at her clothes, wrinkled her nose fiercely at Mu Qian Tan, and asked ahead, “That one won’t come mooching food today?”

Qin He said, “Probably not.”

“Hmph, as if she dared to.”

They chatted while adding more dishes until everything was complete—seven in total, all made from freshly dug ingredients from the fields. The colors were vibrant, the aromas rich. Not fancy delicacies, but they evoked the taste of farm fare. Paired with a bowl of plump white rice, it made stomachs growl.

And indeed, someone’s stomach growled. Shang Shan grinned wide, unable to resist sitting first. She grabbed her chopsticks, piled the food neatly on the table, and dug in immediately.

The table wasn’t high and came without chairs—just little stools, making it all feel very down-to-earth.

Qin He pulled out a stool for Jiang Zhouyao first and waited for her to sit before circling around to take her own seat opposite. Mu Qian Tan also took her seat. A damp evening breeze brushed past her face. She looked ahead and realized this was a prime vantage point.

Beyond the platform, a few more steps led to the cliff edge.

The evening mist had cleared, and the distant rolling hills had shed their greenery, leaving only silhouettes. The horizon’s colorful clouds were like ink spilled by the heavens, lavish and unrestrained, smearing across the sky before dyeing the earth, painting layer upon layer of terraced fields.

Farther still gleamed a tranquil lake of rippling blue nestled in the mountains—it was Mercy Lake. The Five Great Ruthless People Record described this body of water when introducing Cliff Mountain as an embrace from kin, tears from a lover, embodying a beauty that embraced all things.

Yet Cliff Mountain’s most famed sight was still its sunsets.

They said Cliff Mountain boasted the most stunning sunsets in all of Tianyu Sect, renowned even across the entire Cultivation World, drawing crowds to admire and compose poems. In mortal storybooks, it was a rare paradise of the Immortal Realm.

Though her gaze had crossed countless hills, it was but an instant in the Modern World.

Earlier, seeing the wilted chrysanthemums in the flower field had dusted her heart with gloom, leaving her feeling off. Now, with the evening breeze blowing it away, her mood brightened. She couldn’t help but briefly explain her tardiness.

Mu Qian Tan said, “I just went to check the flower field. They’re planted so nicely—it makes one happy. I even helped water them a bit.”

Jiang Zhouyao said, “Thank you. Did you sign your name on the wooden plaque?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Isn’t this signing it right in front of you?”

Jiang Zhouyao laughed, rolling up her sleeves. “These are all vegetables and fruits sent up by the villagers down the mountain. Give them a taste—how are they?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Good.”

Everyone began to eat. The nights here were noisier than at Narrow Sea, so the table was mostly silent, though not exactly quiet.

Just then, two parrots flew over and landed in front of their respective owners.

Shang Shan picked up a piece of pork for hers. Zhengchun snatched it, tilted her head back, and slowly swallowed it down. Qin He switched to a fresh pair of chopsticks, feeding her own parrot some vegetables followed by meat—they both ate with relish.

Mu Qian Tan picked up a piece of scrambled egg, her eyes appraising the two parrots.

These were the demons she had personally selected. When first discovered, their eyeballs had been covered in a rotten film from years of eating human flesh, and starvation had left them skin and bones, on the verge of death.

Now, mere months later, the film had peeled from their eyes, their talons had sharpened, and their feathers gleamed with health. They looked well-fed, showing no trace of their former shadows.

Seeing her stare so intently, Jiang Zhouyao said, “If you need to, you can plant some flowers and grass here too, or keep pets—the villagers are great at caring for them, and problems are rare.”

Shang Shan huffed and said, “She’s cold-hearted! Doesn’t like pretty things at all.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Mm… Then plant a pool of epiphyllum flowers.”

Come to think of it, though her name included “Tan,” she had only seen real epiphyllum flowers as a child.

Back then, her home had a courtyard with a pond full of moonlit beauties. When they bloomed, the night filled with clear fragrance, like stepping into an immortal realm. But she hadn’t cherished it—life held too many things more beautiful than epiphyllum flowers, so she never truly appreciated them.

After leaving that courtyard, she had no time or energy to seek them out specifically. Epiphyllum illusions shattered, condensing into the gray in her name, impossible to wipe away.

Jiang Zhouyao said, “Alright, noted.”

She recalled that these delicate flowers required a lot of care and upfront preparation was troublesome. Mu Qian Tan pondered briefly and asked the one beside her, “Are you heading back?”

Shang Shan’s feeding motion froze, as if she’d finally been waiting for this question. She straightened her back and declared firmly, “I’m not going back!”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Perfect, then you plant them.”

“…” Shang Shan blinked, caught on, and slammed the table in fury. “No way! I’m not planting for you!”

Startled by the bang, Zhengchun flapped away in panic. The other parrot followed suit.

Shang Shan had already devoured her bowl clean from her earlier binge, but now she was too mad to refill it. She wiped her mouth and stormed off.

Qin He set down her chopsticks, dabbed her lips with a square cloth, and got up to chase the parrots.

Jiang Zhouyao chuckled lightly. “No worries, I can handle it. I’m used to tending flowers and plants—more skilled than that child Shang Shan.”

“I was joking—no need to plant.” Mu Qian Tan shook her head and looked up. “What I really wanted to ask is, what did the immortal invite me here for?”

Jiang Zhouyao’s throat bobbed slightly. She lowered her gaze with a faint smile and laid her chopsticks parallel across her bowl. “Nothing much, just about A’He’s notes…”

It really was about that. Mu Qian Tan immediately said, “That was an accident.”

“I know. It’s a small matter, not worth troubling you to come all this way.” Jiang Zhouyao tucked a stray hair behind her ear, hesitated for a long moment, then slowly said, “My real intent in inviting you was to test A’He’s current attitude toward you. Whether it’s changed from before. Unfortunately, it seems not.”

Mu Qian Tan swallowed her food and lowered her lashes. “Yeah.”

Jiang Zhouyao sighed softly. “I’ve always wanted A’He to let go of the past. I’ve been searching for ways to help her stop resenting and hating you, to find some peace.”

Even a peacemaker who hated seeing fights knew such deep-seated kin-slaying hatred couldn’t just be erased. But Mu Qian Tan’s position was awkward—she couldn’t say much. She lightly stroked the edge of her bowl for a good while before saying, “When she gets tired of it, she probably won’t dwell anymore.”

“The more exhausted she gets, the harder it is to stop, so…”

Jiang Zhouyao untied the floral headscarf from her hair, spread it on her lap, folded it into a neat square, and tucked it carefully into her bosom. Her eyes sparkled like shattered light on water. “Someone harboring hatred can’t live well. I just want her to live more easily.”

As the person involved, she knew nothing of the past and couldn’t offer answers from an outsider’s view. Mu Qian Tan didn’t know what to do and finally said, “The truth will come to light eventually.”

The sun had set, and the mountain immersed in pitch-black night.

As dinner ended, Jiang Zhouyao invited her to stay and rest—there were plenty of rooms, anywhere was fine, and going back at night would be troublesome. After a brief thought, she agreed.

Strolling to the backyard, she spotted Shang Shan slumped face-down at a square table, doing who-knows-what. Mu Qian Tan drew closer. “Playing dead?”

Shang Shan didn’t move, just grumbled muffledly, “Basking in the moonlight, drowning my sorrows in wine!”

Her arms rested on the table, a jug covered between them. Mu Qian Tan bent slightly at the waist, one hand behind her back, the other dipping into a potted plant by her feet. She drew a bit of water on her fingertip, condensed it into an ice crystal, and flicked it with a bent finger.

The ice struck the jug and shattered instantly. The splashing water froze into beads like thousands of pearls scattering.

Shang Shan got pelted full of ice particles on her head and face. Thinking she’d been attacked, she didn’t jump up from the table—instead, she spread her arms to shield it with her upper body, only lifting her head once things quieted.

Mu Qian Tan had already reached the table and caught one ice bead in her hand, letting it melt in her palm. She looked down and observed, “It’s water, not wine.”

Shang Shan looked up at the woman, realized it was her mischief again, and leaped to her feet—so hastily she knocked over her chair.

“You’re bullying me again!”

The water in her palm refroze into ice, which she maneuvered to her fingertip and flicked at the girl’s forehead, making her clutch her head and yelp. Mu Qian Tan said, “Have you gained a bit of weight these past two months?”

Shang Shan rubbed her head indignantly. “Not fat—I’ve grown taller!”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Still Dwarf Winter Melon.”

Shang Shan ground her molars, dropped her hands, and fidgeted as if itching to pounce. “You… you… That’s too much…”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Do well on the Martial Trial.”

Shang Shan paused, then muttered, “None of your business.”

Mu Qian Tan glanced back. Not far behind were two persimmon trees with a hammock strung between them on netting. She walked over, lay down in it, and drawled leisurely, “Just a reminder. If you do poorly, it’ll only embarrass you—not me.”