The Years I Served as My Master's Cauldron - Chapter 6

For several consecutive days, Shen Yunjin did not encounter Xie Weiyuan. Although the master and disciple lived under the same roof, they were like strangers who didn’t acknowledge each other.

The mysterious person also stopped coming. Shen Yunjin felt a sense of loss and returned daily to the ruins of the burned-down shed, hoping to find any trace left behind.

After the shed was burned, Shen Yunjin gained a warm room and a bed, but the kitchen staff suffered; with so many mouths to feed and firewood in short supply, they were forced to head into the mountains every morning to chop wood.

After lurking for several days, Shen Yunjin finally encountered Li Bing, who had often helped him in the past, near the ruins. Back when Shen Yunjin used to help in the kitchen, it was Li Bing who had always saved a bite of food for him.

However, the moment Li Bing saw Shen Yunjin, he looked like a frightened bird, preferring to take a ten-foot detour just to avoid him. Shen Yunjin quickened his pace to intercept him, and after a long standoff, Li Bing, seeing no way out, finally burst out impatiently: “What on earth do you want?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen anyone suspicious near the shed lately?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know! Ask someone else.” Li Bing tried to flee, but Shen Yunjin firmly gripped his wrist.

“Ow, ow! Take it easy! I did feed you for all those years, after all.”

Shen Yunjin loosened his grip slightly. “Then answer me.”

Realizing he couldn’t escape, Li Bing pondered for a moment, stroking his chin. “Near the shed? No…” Just as Shen Yunjin was about to leave in disappointment, Li Bing smacked his forehead. “But speaking of suspicious, there is one person in the kitchen.”

“What?”

“Haven’t you heard? Well, I suppose not, since no one in the sect dares talk to you anymore a while ago, someone started stealing buns from the kitchen.”

“Stealing buns?” Shen Yunjin asked, puzzled.

“Yes. It’s very strange. It’s not like anyone in the sect is short of food…” Li Bing glanced at Shen Yunjin, feeling a bit guilty. “Of course, you’re the exception. But this person steals exactly two every night, and no one can stop them.”

“At first, I thought it was a ghost, so I asked Elder Qingya to set up a barrier, but the person broke it easily. With that level of cultivation, why on earth would they bother stealing buns?”

Li Bing prattled on, but Shen Yunjin was stunned. The buns the mysterious person gave me every night… were stolen?

Shen Yunjin gripped Li Bing’s shoulder tightly. “Is there anything else?”

“No, they haven’t come to steal any for the past few days. Probably got tired of them.”

“I meant, do you have any other clues about them?”

“None. Their cultivation seems very high; they always manage to steal the buns before we notice.”

Shen Yunjin returned to Yunyin Palace feeling despondent, staring at the empty window sill.

A few days later, an absurd rumor began to circulate through the Nine Nether Sect. It was said that the thief stealing buns from the kitchen no longer wanted pork-filled buns and had switched to human-meat buns!

This wasn’t entirely baseless. One morning, a disciple sweeping the mountain stairs discovered a bald skull on the wooden plaque at the main entrance. The sect was in an uproar. Xie Weiyuan urgently summoned the eight Elders to discuss the matter, while the disciples speculated in panic, wondering who was daring enough to hang a skull on the Nine Nether Sect’s entrance. Had they never heard of the fierce reputation of Lord Linghua, Xie Weiyuan?

Combining the rumor with the previous “bun-stealing incident,” the disciples wove a complete story: A man-eating demon had appeared in the back mountains. It first stole pork buns from the kitchen for a snack, but once tired of them, it kidnapped a kitchen worker and a soft-skinned, fleshy disciple. It hacked them into meat, forced the worker to make buns, ate its fill, and hung the skull as a provocation.

When Xie Weiyuan heard this in Yunyin Palace, he spat out his tea, ruining the floor. He wasn’t scared by the morbid tale; he was simply suffering from “tea-sickness.” Xie Weiyuan could not tolerate the taste of tea. In his modern life, he couldn’t touch anything related to tea whether Oolong, Yuzu, or Longjing.

It was a strange constitution that even hospitals couldn’t explain. He didn’t know which incompetent disciple on duty had swapped his plain water for tea, causing him to feel nauseous for half the day.

“Ding-dong—System mission issued: ‘Yellow Millet Dream’ activated. Host, please find the true culprit and complete the villain’s childhood storyline~”

Xie Weiyuan’s face darkened as he accepted the mission, still reeling from the disgust of that mouthful of tea.

This scene was witnessed by Shen Yunjin. Having rarely seen Xie Weiyuan in such a pathetic state, he felt a surge of interest and, for the first time ever, walked over to ask: “Master, what is wrong?”

He clearly wanted to watch the show. Xie Weiyuan, already feeling unwell, was even more irritated to have Shen Yunjin gloating over his misfortune.

“What does it have to do with you? Go back to your room.”

Shen Yunjin looked at the tea on the floor, thoughtful. “Master does not like this tea? Then Disciple will bring you a bowl of water.”

Xie Weiyuan dared not let this “big Buddha” serve him. If he let Shen Yunjin bring water, he would likely only find a small amount of plain water mixed with arsenic or five-poison powder. He waved his hand: “Go. I’ll get it myself.”

Shen Yunjin did leave, but Xie Weiyuan felt miserable watching his retreating back. The scent of tea made him want to vomit; he felt weak, his stomach churning, his head spinning, and he couldn’t bring himself to walk.

The little brat actually left without a second look.

After cursing inwardly, he closed his eyes to rest, only for a cool, sweet sensation to enter his lips. Xie Weiyuan opened his eyes slightly to find Shen Yunjin holding a bowl of plain water to his mouth.

He reacted as if facing a mortal enemy and sprayed the water out, roaring in his sea of consciousness: “Broken System, are you dead? How could you not warn me? How dare you let me drink water brought by Shen Yunjin?”

The System replied leisurely: “Host, don’t judge a gentleman’s heart with a villain’s measure. This water is perfectly clean.”

Xie Weiyuan recovered and realized the water was indeed untainted. Shen Yunjin, watching his alternating states of near-death and panic, felt a sense of satisfaction. Why would he let Xie Weiyuan be poisoned so easily? This long torture had only just begun; if Xie Weiyuan died so easily, he would be let off too lightly.

He placed the bowl on the table and asked, probing: “Has Master heard the rumors in the sect about… the demon stealing buns?”

Xie Weiyuan’s expression stiffened: “Utterly ridiculous.” How could anyone believe such an absurd story about a demon liking human-meat buns?

Shen Yunjin continued: “Disciple finds it somewhat believable. Otherwise, who in this sect would be so bored as to steal buns from the kitchen in the middle of the night?”

Xie Weiyuan shot him a guilty glance, coughed twice, and said sternly: “I don’t think so. These are clearly two different matters. Who stole the buns is one thing, but murder in the Nine Nether Sect will not be tolerated.”

Shen Yunjin looked at Xie Weiyuan. “So, how does Master plan to handle it?”

Xie Weiyuan didn’t have a plan yet, so he stayed silent. Speaking of buns, he realized he’d been so busy he forgot to feed Shen Yunjin. What has this person been eating every day? Seeing how thin Shen Yunjin was, his heart softened: “Go tell the kitchen staff to send some food over.” He feigned coldness, adding, “You can have the leftovers. You look so thin, how will you serve as my human furnace in the future?”

Shen Yunjin received the order and brought back a bowl of Angelica and Jujube Ginseng soup and Longjing tea pastries. He stood to the side, watching Xie Weiyuan eat. Xie Weiyuan ladled out a bowl for himself and then pushed the chicken soup toward Shen Yunjin: “I’m full. It’s going to be fed to the dogs anyway, so you drink it.”

Xie Weiyuan spoke with intentional malice to avoid revealing his true intentions. Even the System was fooled by his poisonous tongue. Shen Yunjin didn’t refuse, taking the bowl. After one sip, he remembered Xie Weiyuan’s reaction to the tea and, as if holding a weakness, deliberately tasted the Longjing tea pastries, chewing loudly to annoy Xie Weiyuan.

Sure enough, the scent drifted to Xie Weiyuan, who glared at him with disgust and coldly said: “If you want to eat that, go back to your room. Don’t be an eyesore in front of me.”

After the cold words, Xie Weiyuan turned and walked away, leaving Shen Yunjin alone in the palace. Shen Yunjin watched his back, his gaze darkening. Although Xie Weiyuan’s mouth was still venomous, he was intentionally feeding him.

He wasn’t stupid; a new calculation began to form. He took the pastries back to the side hall. While eating, he read the manual the man in black had given him. Thanks to his diligence, his cultivation had improved; he was no longer the amateur he had started as.

But that person… he hadn’t come back.

Sometime later, he fell asleep on the table again. In the deep of night, a “thud” at the window woke him. He snapped his eyes open, a flash of joy in his gaze. Is he finally back?

He stood up, looking at the blurry figure in the dim moonlight. This time, there were no buns—only a shallow brown sandalwood box. Shen Yunjin guessed it might contain a secret manual or sword technique. He suppressed his racing heart and opened the box, only to gasp in shock the next second.

Inside lay a bloody human finger.

Beside it lay a piece of white paper stained with blood; even though the paper was soaked through, the writing remained clear. Was this person trying to warn him? Looking at the note, a sense of unease welled up, and memories rushed back. Shen Yunjin’s face turned pale; he felt a familiar, long-forgotten palpitations in his chest.

Is he still alive? The mountains of corpses and seas of blood in his dreams all originated from that grey-robed figure.

Shen Yunjin gritted his teeth and leapt out into the deep night.

Outside the window, goose-feather snow drifted in the lead-gray sky, slowly concealing the filthy bloodstains on the ground.