The Immortal’s "White Moonlight" Reborn - Chapter 68

Are those two truly just “Senior Sisters”?

The Lord of Moon shark City had reserved the best suite in the tavern for Yun Heng. Located on the top floor, the room featured windows that offered a panoramic view of the entire city and the distant sea. Out on the water stood a towering structure where the aquatic tribes summoned the Dragon Gate; this room was the premier spot to witness the Dragon Gate Ascension Ceremony.

Everything in the room was of the highest quality. After showing them in, the attendant asked tentatively if there was anything else they required.

“I heard from Bai Jiao that your tavern’s pastries are excellent. Could you bring some up?” Yun Heng recalled the City Lord’s boast that her tavern’s chef ranked among the top ten in the Vast Delusion Realm.

“Please wait a moment, I shall have the kitchen prepare them immediately,” the attendant replied. She hurried off to find the head chef; this was a distinguished guest of the City Lord and could not be slighted.

Inside, Wen Qiwu sat on a plush bed. The blankets were woven from a spiritual material that emitted a calming energy, enough to grant a peaceful sleep even to those who had struggled to close their eyes for days.

The attendant had thoughtfully provided two pillows, but seemed to have forgotten a second blanket.

Before long, the attendant returned with steaming pastries, having used her movement techniques to ensure the guest wasn’t kept waiting. “These are our tavern’s most famous delicacies. Please, enjoy.” She set down two plates of exquisitely crafted flower-shaped pastries and bowed out.

Bai Jiao hadn’t been exaggerating. The pastries were perfect in color, aroma, and taste.

“The City Lord once bragged to me about her chef. A-Que, try them and see if they suit your palate?” Yun Heng placed the plates before her Junior Sister.

“The aroma is lovely. You should try some too, Senior Sister?” Wen Qiwu prepared to feed her a piece, but Yun Heng was preoccupied. She was trying once more to establish contact with the City Lord.

“Do you think there’s something fishy going on with the City Lord?” Wen Qiwu’s expression turned serious.

“Perhaps I’m being over-cautious, but it’s better to be safe. The atmosphere in Moonshark City feels strange,” Yun Heng noted. It seemed odd that the city would feel this unsettled just because Bai Jiao had entered seclusion. Yun Heng wanted to at least confirm Bai Jiao was actually in her meditation chamber and safe.

“True. With the ceremony approaching, it’s the busiest and most chaotic time. Caution is wise,” Wen Qiwu agreed.

Just as Yun Heng prepared to use a secret technique to locate her, a reply finally arrived.

Bai Jiao’s voice transmission carried an unmistakable weakness. It was clear she was forcing a cheerful tone to welcome them, apologizing for the day’s events. “I’m so sorry I’m indisposed while you’re visiting. Once I’m better, I’ll come find you personally. For now, enjoy yourselves. If you need anything, just tell the butler at the manor.”

The voice and immortal signature were undoubtedly Bai Jiao’s. Relieved, Yun Heng’s expression softened. She turned back to her Junior Sister, only to find that the pastries had barely been touched.

“Not to your liking?” Yun Heng tasted one; it was soft, sweet, and expertly made. Yet, her Junior Sister seemed disinterested.

“They are delicious, but… they aren’t chestnut cakes.” In Wen Qiwu’s heart, no delicacy could compete with the chestnut cakes made by her Senior Sister.

This wasn’t just bias. Yun Heng had spent over a hundred years perfecting that single recipe. While she might lack a professional chef’s breadth, she had reached the pinnacle of that specific craft.

“Then I shall go make some for you.” Yun Heng ruffled her head. She had assumed Wen Qiwu would want to try the local seaside specialties and hadn’t prepared her own.

“There’s no need to go to such trouble,” Wen Qiwu said quickly.

“It’s no trouble at all. It won’t take long.” Yun Heng asked her to wait and headed downstairs to borrow the kitchen.

The tavern allowed guests to use the kitchen, but the staff found it hard to associate this frost-pure immortal with the mundane smoke of a stove. Fortunately, she was an ice cultivator; they had seen fire cultivators blow up kitchens before. If she had been a fire root user, they would have activated the tavern’s defensive arrays immediately.

The attendant peeked into the kitchen, accidentally bumping into the manager, who was holding an abacus.

“Why does the City Lord’s friend share her hobbies?” the manager muttered. She reached out and flipped a small hidden switch, activating a protective array that encased the kitchen in light.

“Wait, when did we install that?” the attendant asked.

“Years ago, before you were born,” the manager sighed, clicking her abacus.

“Is it related to the City Lord?”

“Hmph.” The manager’s fingers moved faster. “She has no idea of her own limits but insists on cooking. She thinks she’s a kitchen god reincarnated. Once, she mixed fire-crystals with fire-thunder stones and blew up half the tavern. Massive losses.”

The attendant’s mouth twitched. The glorious image of the City Lord in her mind crumbled a little.

“Later, she claimed it was an accident. That time she didn’t use thunder stones, but she put two conflicting spiritual herbs in a pot. The pot exploded, and the kitchen was ruined. That’s when I installed the array. The last time, she actually managed to serve a dish. I didn’t dare eat it, but she knocked out every chef in the kitchen for half a month. We couldn’t open for business.”

The attendant shuddered. Thank goodness she was a late hire.

“Manager, the City Lord is only a Golden Immortal. If this Immortal Sovereign blows up the kitchen… will the array hold?”

“This is just to protect us. If she blows it up, we’ll send the bill to the God-Inquiry Sect. They’re rich; they won’t mind.”

However, after watching for a while, the manager realized they had over-worried. Unlike the City Lord’s impulsive meddling, this Immortal Sovereign moved with the practiced ease of someone who cooked regularly.

Can’t judge a book by its cover, the manager thought, recalling how she’d been fooled by the City Lord’s beautiful face.

Footsteps approached. It was the girl who had arrived with the Sovereign. She smiled at the manager and asked softly if she could enter. The manager stepped aside to let her in.

Wen Qiwu entered the kitchen and playfully “startled” Yun Heng from behind, even smudging a bit of flour on her face.

The “cool and distant” immortal didn’t flinch; instead, she turned with a smile so tender it seemed her eyes could only hold the girl before her. She wasn’t annoyed by the “mischief”; she was overflowing with joy.

“Manager, things are getting busy out front. I’ll head back,” the attendant said awkwardly. She felt like she was in the way.

“Let’s go. I have books to balance,” the manager added. Having run this tavern for centuries, she had seen it all. Are those two truly just “Senior Sisters”? It certainly doesn’t look like it.

In her line of work, knowing when to play dumb was a vital skill.

As the cakes neared completion, the aroma wafted through the building. The tavern chefs were drawn to it, realizing these chestnut cakes might actually rival their own signatures.

“Are they ready?” Wen Qiwu reached out to lift the lid.

“Careful, it’s hot!” Yun Heng caught her hand. “Wait a moment, don’t be impatient.”

Suddenly, Yun Heng’s brow furrowed. She looked up just as a boom echoed and a hole was blasted through the kitchen ceiling.

A small, human-shaped bundle tumbled through. Wen Qiwu moved instantly, catching the figure before it could fall into the boiling vat. The person was startlingly light. It was a thin, frail child with dull, sightless eyes.

Two other figures fell through the hole, dragged down by Yun Heng’s power. They appeared to be aquatic demons, bearing fish-like scales. They struggled wildly, cursing those who dared interfere.

Yun Heng’s gaze turned icy. Because their insults had targeted her Junior Sister, the two demons suddenly lost their voices. They clawed at their throats, their faces turning purple; their tongues and gullets had been frozen solid.

“You… you’re in for it now,” one of the tavern chefs stammered, pointing at the fierce-looking demons. “The manager is going to be furious.”

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