Chapter Thirty: The First Positive Review

Feng Jiu gave a light snort, unwilling to waste words with certain people, and summoned objects through the air. All the demon crystals queued up and flew out from a certain person’s belt on their own.

What a pity; once, in the Celestial Realm, such lowly fare would never have crossed his gaze. Yet, after a few days in the mortal world, he realized he no longer had the luxury to be so selective.

Prestige and bloodline—what did they count for? Without profound cultivation, all else was but fleeting clouds.

Thus, the true path was to restore his cultivation as quickly as possible!

He opened his mouth and swallowed everything in one go, then closed his eyes, circulating his energy to refine it. Though the spiritual power within demon crystals was far inferior to that of demon cores, it was still much stronger than demon beast soup. After a full cycle of meditation, he opened his eyes, feeling refreshed and clear-headed.

“You—” Feng Ke’er clutched her belt with both hands, dumbfounded. “Taking without asking!” She thought to protest further, but recalling that he had just saved her life, she swallowed the latter half of her sentence.

“I consume demon crystals to replenish spiritual power and enhance cultivation. For you, they’re useless,” Feng Jiu replied, oblivious to her complaint. In the world of cultivation, the law of the jungle prevailed.

So demon crystals were meant to feed spirit pets. Old Master Chen had conveniently omitted that in his lessons. Feng Ke’er, sulking, pointed at the empty pot. “Didn’t you just finish a whole pot?”

The subtext: Heavens, can you really eat so much?

Feng Jiu snorted, “That hardly sufficed. It doesn't stave off hunger. This is just barely adequate.”

“So, what do you consider more than just ‘adequate’?” someone retorted, exasperated.

Feng Jiu smacked his lips. “At the very least, a third-tier demon core.” In truth, he was already wronging his own stomach. In the Celestial Realm, he wouldn’t even touch a third-tier demon core! He used to dine exclusively on fifth-tier and above.

“A third-tier demon core? At the very least?” Cold sweat beaded on Feng Ke’er’s brow. Was he joking? Couldn’t he settle for a donkey or a mule? Her humble temple could hardly support such a living Buddha!

According to Old Master Chen, demon cores were ranked in seven tiers. A third-tier demon beast could only condense a first-tier core.

A third-tier demon core, then, only came from a fifth-tier demon beast, which was equivalent to a cultivator of the Nascent Soul stage!

And a Nascent Soul cultivator was, to her, a lofty figure, a mountain she could only look up to.

These demon crystals were hard-won, acquired by clubbing and scavenging.

So, divine beasts were impressive, but feeding them was a pressure too great—think twice before you try!

Seeing her frowning in distress, Feng Jiu grew irritable. “At present, my cultivation hasn’t even recovered one-tenth of its original state. Even if you had demon cores, I couldn’t use them now. Once I’ve regained my strength, I’ll handle the matter of demon cores myself. No need for you to worry.”

With such narrow-mindedness, he had little hope this girl would ever amount to much!

Could it be that the Feng clan had declined so badly that, among its younger generation, she was the only one fit to inherit the Breath-Concealing Talisman? Doubt crept into his heart.

Alas, his current cultivation was insufficient to examine the girl’s spiritual roots, and with the talisman protecting her, he could not probe her aptitudes. So he let his suspicions rest.

Hearing his words, Feng Ke’er felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Beaming, she rubbed her hands together in delight. “So that’s how it is. I’ll make dinner first. We’ll need our strength to dig a stone cave. As you wish, we’ll dig one here for temporary shelter.” Her eyes filled with hope as she looked at him—surely, after all, someone so mighty wouldn’t expect a slender girl like her to do all the hard labor?

Hmph! Just eating and not working, wanting to be a grand master? Not a chance!

What kind of personality was this? Feng Jiu felt a headache coming on, but held his temper. “If you’re making dinner, hurry. As for the cave, there’s no rush—we’ll need to move elsewhere.”

“What now?” Feng Ke’er looked up at the knife-hewn peak. “Don’t tell me you want to live up there?” Dear meat-bird, good children shouldn’t get greedy.

So troublesome! Feng Jiu frowned. “We can’t stay here long. The birds within a hundred miles must have sensed my cry earlier; there will be strange reactions. It won’t be long before they catch on.”

So that was it. Survival came first! Feng Ke’er, now anxious, shaded her eyes and peered down the mountain.

Only then did she notice how eerily quiet it was below, just like when the white-robed girl had been present.

Something was definitely amiss.

“We’d better leave now.” She hastily grabbed the pot. Most important was to save the cooking gear; the pile of wild chickens would have to be left behind.

Feng Jiu cleared his throat and smirked. “Why the rush? They won’t come immediately. Besides, we’ll need our strength for the journey.”

Feng Ke’er exclaimed, “You’re not full yet?” After all that chicken and soup, plus ten demon crystals, how could this meat-bird not be satisfied? He must be a pig in disguise!

“Only half full,” Feng Jiu replied, casting her a glance and huffing.

His look all but accused her of being a negligent caretaker.

Now was not the time for infighting. With a sigh, Feng Ke’er resigned herself to her role as a feeder.

Half out of spite, half out of pain for her stores, she decided to cook all the wild chickens at once, boiling a huge pot of water. As she plucked feathers by the fire, she muttered under her breath, “May you burst, may you burst…”

Feng Jiu, seeing this, was displeased. “Must you pluck them one by one? Too slow.”

Feng Ke’er glanced up at him, her smile insincere. “If they were all like you, things would go much faster.”

Feng Jiu fumed. Once, his fiery, dense plumage was the most splendid among the entire Feng clan, but his present state was due to being hatched too early.

Feng Ke’er, ever tactless, had poked right at his sore spot.

“Given time, I will regrow the most glorious feathers!” Stung, he gave a mighty flap of his wings.

A gust rose!

Feathers whirled through the air.

“Achoo, achoo!” Feng Ke’er was blinded, sneezing repeatedly.

When the wind died down and she opened her eyes, she found over a dozen plucked wild chickens lined up before her.

She chuckled, flattering him. “Wow, meat-bird, you’re even quicker than a feather-plucking machine.” She had seen such machines in the market, but none could compare to this technique.

Unexpectedly, Feng Jiu glared at her in rage and turned away, refusing to speak.

Ah, he must have misheard “feather-plucking machine” as “feather-plucked chicken,” thinking she was making a fool of him… Feng Ke’er, exasperated, quickly explained, “Meat-bird, don’t misunderstand. I said ‘machine’—a device in our world made for plucking chickens and ducks.”

“A machine?” Feng Jiu’s eyes narrowed. “You mean a puppet? How decadent your people are, to be so lost in frivolous things!” His words dripped with disappointment.

Realizing he’d misunderstood again, Feng Ke’er shrugged and fell silent, returning to her work. Generational gaps—such is life, so best to make the most of the time.

As always, the heads, feet, and carcasses went into the soup; legs and wings were roasted.

The pot was reliable; it handled over a dozen wild chickens with ease. Half an hour later, dinner was ready.

A soup made with such a bounty was naturally rich and fragrant, its aroma thick in the air. The chicken legs and wings were roasted to a golden, tender perfection.

Feng Ke’er ladled herself a large bowl of broth, then took a branch skewered with a leg and a wing from the fire. In a show of generosity, she said, “This is plenty for me; the rest is all yours.” Secretly, she plotted to pack away any leftovers for their journey—best to have rations on the run.

At her words, Feng Jiu brightened, and for once, actually said, “Thank you.” Then, without the slightest ceremony, he sat by the fire and inhaled.

A vortex formed over the pot, and the soup turned into a watery dragon, pouring straight into his mouth.

Then, with a flick of his wing, every last leg and wing on the fire flew in a line to his side.

He pecked them down one by one, looking supremely content.

Feng Ke’er nearly dropped her bowl. Good heavens, a true glutton had arrived!

After finishing, Feng Jiu smacked his beak, unsatisfied—he was only eighty percent full.

Noticing his gaze falling on the leg and wing in her hand, Feng Ke’er’s alarm bells rang. She hastily took a huge bite, chewing and mumbling through a full mouth, “These are mine.” Inwardly, she howled: With such a glutton on her hands, how could she ever hope to survive!

This trick she’d learned in kindergarten, taught by the old caretaker: There was once a classmate with a huge appetite who loved cake. Feng Ke’er ate slowly and liked to save dessert for last, but the glutton would always try to snatch it when the teacher wasn’t looking. The old caretaker advised her to always take a bite first, regardless of hunger. It worked; from then on, her cake was safe.

The memory of the old caretaker brought a sting to her nose and tears to her eyes. Though an orphan, she had always been cherished and protected. Never had she suffered hardship or injustice.

“What’s wrong?” Feng Jiu asked, awkward.

“Sorry, I’m fine. Just thinking of family.” Feng Ke’er wiped her tears with the back of her hand and buried herself in her soup.

Something stirred in Feng Jiu’s heart, and he sighed. “Actually, I lied to you before.” She was just a weak little girl; perhaps he shouldn’t have involved her.

“What?” Feng Ke’er looked up sharply. “You lied to me?”

Feng Jiu nodded. “Yes, I did. With our contract, they wouldn’t kill you—in fact, they’d treat you like a treasure, helping you cultivate. That way, they could control me through you. Of course, they’d offer me the best sacrifices, but I’m used to my freedom. I’d rather be an unaffiliated wanderer.”

That was part of it. More importantly, if the young master of the Feng clan was reduced to a mere guardian beast for a minor sect in exchange for offerings, it would bring shame to his entire race!

Feng Ke’er understood. So, it was just captivity—luxury, but not what she wanted. Even if she grew stronger, it meant nothing to her. Cultivation was only a means of self-protection; her true goal was to return to the modern world.

So she replied solemnly, “I feel the same—I’d rather die than be kept in captivity. Let’s finish eating and discuss how to escape.”

“Captivity?” Feng Jiu understood—yes, to be kept in a pen, not free.

He nodded, his voice soft. “No rush. We’ll talk after you’ve eaten.” Good—he hadn’t misjudged this girl.

Little did she realize she had just earned her first genuine compliment.

Tongtian Codex, Chapter 30: The First Compliment—Complete!