Chapter 20: The Mysterious Glutton (Extra Chapter)

Having narrowly escaped disaster, she was as skittish as a startled bird and dared not leave the cave at all. Feng Ke’er hid inside, nerves taut, listening intently like a frightened rabbit for any sound outside the courtyard.

Suddenly, a voice sent chills down her spine—“Pfft! Coward!” It was very close, clearly a child’s voice, but the tone was that of an adult man. More importantly, the speaker was actually hiding inside her cave.

This was intolerable!

“Who’s there? Who is it?” Feng Ke’er sprang up like a cat with its tail stepped on, swiftly drawing the two daggers she kept strapped to her legs. She scanned the cave, shouting sternly, “Come out! Show yourself right now!”

No one answered. No one appeared.

The cave was deathly silent except for her own ragged, rapid breathing.

She couldn’t stand it anymore. She simply couldn’t.

“Damn it, stop playing tricks! If you’re bold enough to spook me, dare to show yourself!” Clutching both daggers tightly, she slashed madly at the air, venting her panic, “Come out! I’m calling you out! Did you hear me?”

She ranted and raved until exhaustion took over.

Throughout, the voice never returned.

With a clatter, her daggers dropped to the ground, and she collapsed back onto her makeshift bed—a flat stone platform at the deepest end of the cave, about half a meter high and just big enough for someone to lie on. Used to sleeping on beds, she couldn’t bear the hard ground, so she’d piled on a thick layer of dry grass, turning the stone into a bed.

The cave was small, open to view, like a snow burrow. Not even a sparrow could hide inside, let alone a person. Perhaps she was just too tense and hearing things. Or maybe, it was that mysterious tome playing tricks again. Who said an ancient manual had to speak in a crisp female voice? Maybe today it chose the soft lilt of a little boy.

Calming herself, Feng Ke’er rubbed her face vigorously, bent down to pick up her daggers, and sheathed them at her legs once more.

No matter how much she needed to vent, whatever happened, as long as she was still alive, life had to go on, didn’t it?

Outside, the sun slanted westward, painting the sky with a vivid streak of rouge. Unconsciously, another day had passed.

Suddenly remembering something, Feng Ke’er smacked her forehead, grabbed her newly bought cooking pot, and hurried out of the cave. She skipped across the pond, using her improved “Dragonfly Skims the Water” and “Swift Step” techniques—benefits gained from her recent escape—to land in the front courtyard with the lightness of a martial arts master. There, she conjured fireballs to start a blaze. After all, once the sun set, there wouldn’t be a neighbor for hundreds of miles. Where else could she get fire to cook her meal?

Alas, she’d only thought to buy a pot and had forgotten a fire striker. The thought of the marketplace brought back the morning’s events, unsettling her once again.

In her distraction, the tip of her dagger nicked her finger, but thankfully, her body was now as tough as bronze and iron, so she was unharmed.

She shook her head vigorously, trying to focus as she carved an ice lens.

Unbeknownst to her, a long sigh drifted from the cave, soon carried away by the evening breeze.

That night, thanks to her new bronze cauldron, Feng Ke’er finally tasted her first hot soup since arriving in this world. Lacking a spoon, she simply used her gourd bowl to scoop the golden wild pheasant soup straight from the cauldron. After a hearty sip, she smacked her lips in satisfaction. “Nothing beats the fragrant, sweet, and fresh taste of wild game cooked in a pure, unpolluted broth. If only I had some salt—it would taste even better. I’ll have to pick some up at the market in a few days...” Ah, the lure of good food really was irresistible. Whenever it came to eating, she always seemed to forget about danger.

It was her first time using the bronze cauldron, so she was unfamiliar with its capacity. Even though she’d only made half a pot of soup, after three large bowls, it barely seemed to diminish.

In the heat of summer, with no pantry or fridge, preserving food was no small challenge. Feng Ke’er knew she couldn’t solve this problem with her current resources. So she forced down two more bowls with meat and broth, and instead of throwing out the rest, she lugged the entire cauldron back to the cave—perhaps the flesh of a white-tier beast would keep longer, and the soup wouldn’t spoil overnight.

But the next morning, when she checked the cauldron, she was startled to find it completely empty!

She was certain both meat and soup had been left.

Could the tome truly help itself to her food? She hastily examined the Phoenix Jade token, but it was still wrapped in its dusty shell, not a spot of grease in sight.

Could there really be something else living in the cave—something that ate chicken and left not even bones behind?

The thought sent chills down her back. Quietly, she drew her daggers and searched the cave.

But there wasn’t much: just the stone bed with dry grass, the bronze cauldron, a blue cloth bundle, and a large grass nest with ten wild pheasant eggs. She’d covered the nest with straw to keep out mice.

If there was another living thing in the cave, it could only be the eggs.

She eyed the nest, held her breath, and used her dagger to carefully lift the straw.

All ten eggs were safe and sound—none missing!

If there was a thief, it certainly wasn’t hiding here.

Finally, Feng Ke’er, rubbing her chin, circled the bronze cauldron thoughtfully. Could it be that even a low-grade spiritual tool needed to eat, just like a person? Maybe it got hungry if not fed.

The more she considered, the more convinced she became. In her mind’s eye, she saw her future: always running through the woods with game slung over her shoulders, tossing it into the cauldron, building a fire, and cooking. But just as she was about to eat, a flash of red light would come from the cauldron. She’d lift the lid—only to find the food gone. The cauldron would sit there, its greasy mouth wide open, wailing, “Hungry! I’m starving!”

Feng Ke’er sighed, rubbing her forehead with a bitter smile. Was she destined for a life of toil? With an appetite like that, her cauldron would be a challenge to keep fed.

So, she plucked and cleaned the last two wild pheasants and stewed them all in one go.

Soon, the cauldron was brimming with chicken soup.

Lifting the lid, she negotiated with it: “Listen, cauldron, I don’t eat much. From now on, I’ll eat first, and whatever’s left is yours. Deal?”

The cauldron remained as silent as any ordinary pot.

She grinned, “No answer? I’ll take that as agreement!” She fished out a drumstick and a large bowl of soup, eating while keeping a close eye on the pot.

Still nothing.

She ate a wing and another half bowl of soup.

Still no reaction.

Content and full, she patted the cauldron’s ear. “Good cauldron. I’m done—the rest is all yours.”

But she waited at its side for over a quarter of an hour, and still, nothing happened. The contents of the pot hadn’t diminished at all.

What was going on? Had she wrongly accused her cauldron? Feng Ke’er began to circle the pot suspiciously.

Just then, her ears perked up—someone was approaching.

After yesterday’s scare, she dared not let the cauldron be seen. Without hesitation, she grabbed it by the ears and dashed back into the cave to hide it.

She returned to the courtyard, leapt lightly onto the main roof, and pretended to clear the weeds while peering into the distance towards the approaching footsteps.

On the muddy road a mile away, a blue figure drew nearer.

It was Bodhi.

Why was he here?

“Big Sister Feng! Big Sister Feng!” The little fellow waved enthusiastically when he spotted her.

Despite how bitterly he and his people had deceived her, she couldn’t help feeling a little touched—out here in the wilderness, he’d come all this way just to see her.

In a flash, he reached the courtyard gate.

Feng Ke’er jumped down, opened the gate, and welcomed him in.

Even before she could speak, Bodhi, his little face glistening with sweat, asked anxiously, “Big Sister Feng, why haven’t you been to the dining hall these past two days?”

“So you came to look for me?” Feng Ke’er’s heart softened as she pulled him into the shade. “The other day, an inner disciple came up the hill to hunt, saw me living here alone, and gave me a wild pheasant. I only finished it this morning. By the way, how did you find this place?”

Bodhi, undoing his blue cloth bundle, grinned proudly. “I asked Senior Brother Jiang. It’s easy to find—just follow the road. But it’s a long walk. I’ve been on the road since morning.”

Feng Ke’er was so moved she decided to let bygones be bygones. She pulled out a white handkerchief she’d made the night before over the campfire from leftover cloth, handed it to him with affection. “Look at you, all sweaty. Wipe your face.”

Bodhi thanked her and accepted it, but he just held it in his hand. Instead, he opened his bundle and took out a lotus-leaf package the size of a sweet melon, presenting it to Feng Ke’er with a bright smile. “Here, Big Sister Feng.”

“What is it?” Feng Ke’er had a pretty good guess, and was deeply touched. Since the old headmaster passed away, he was the first to care whether she’d eaten.

Inside the lotus leaf were two fist-sized millet rice balls.

Bodhi licked his lips, explaining, “These are the best rice balls I’ve ever had. We each get two every meal. I ate both every time the day before yesterday. But yesterday, when I still didn’t see you at the dining hall, I started saving one for you each meal, starting from lunch.”

“Thank you, thank you so much.” Feng Ke’er fought back tears, took one, and handed the other to him. “Let’s eat together.”

Bodhi waved his hands vigorously. “No need, you eat. I had breakfast. This is for you.”

“I can’t eat that much,” Feng Ke’er insisted, pressing the rice ball into his hands.

“Thank you.” Only then did Bodhi accept it, grinning from the heart. “Big Sister Feng, you eat too.”

Feng Ke’er took a big bite, cheeks bulging, nodding as she spoke with her mouth full, “Let’s eat together. It’s really delicious. This is also the tastiest rice ball I’ve ever had.” She’d never realized plain cold millet rice could be so fragrant and warm.

Bodhi imitated her, taking a big bite, his deep black eyes curving into happy crescents.

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This chapter is complete. The author thanks you for your support and reminds you there are scheduled releases every morning at eight. See you then!

End of Chapter 20: The Mysterious Gluttonous Cauldron (Bonus Update).