Jiang Chen blinked, genuinely taken aback.

Why are they here?

The trio standing at his gate was the last group he expected. He hadn’t seen the Lin sisters or Wang Bing in at least two months.

Ever since the “Feng Xiao Incident,” Lin Yan had strictly forbidden her younger sister, Lin Yu, from visiting the farm. As for Wang Bing, she had vanished completely after learning about his stringent—and frankly, discouraging—requirements for a Dao companion.

Yet, here they were, a united front.

Lin Yu was petite as ever, her large eyes sparkling with suppressed mischief. Her elder sister, Lin Yan, cut a more mature and striking figure, the beauty mark at the corner of her lips accentuating a naturally fiery temperament. Wang Bing, dressed in flowing white gauze, radiated an air of untouchable, glacial purity.

They were a distinct, and somewhat intimidating, trio.

Before their [Paper Crane] even touched the ground, Lin Yan called out. “Fellow Daoist Jiang, I hope you don’t mind us crashing the party uninvited?”

Jiang Chen recovered quickly, masking his surprise with a polite smile. “It’s certainly unexpected, but guests are always welcome.”

Lin Yu winked playfully from behind her sister. “Big Sis dragged me and Senior Sister Wang along the moment she heard you hit Foundation Establishment.”

Lin Yan landed gracefully and produced three porcelain bottles from her storage pouch. “We didn’t come just to mooch a meal. Consider these three bottles of [Foundation Spirit Pills] a congratulatory gift.”

Jiang Chen accepted them with a nod. He had a pretty good idea of what Lin Yan was actually thinking—likely reassessing his value now that he was a Foundation Establishment cultivator—but he didn’t call her out on it.

“Please, come inside,” he said, gesturing toward the cabin.

Wang Bing stepped forward, offering a faint, polite smile. “Fellow Daoist Jiang, it has been a long time.”

Wang Ze, watching this exchange, looked confused. “Cousin? You know Junior Brother Jiang?”

Wang Bing didn’t elaborate, merely maintaining her mysterious air as they filed inside.

The wooden hut wasn’t a mansion, but it fit the group comfortably enough. The seating arrangement was a bit ad-hoc: Lin Yu, Lin Yan, Wang Bing, Wang Ze, and Chen Bo took the chairs, while Jin Fugui and Mo Yu sat on the edge of the bed.

Jiang Chen placed a [Top-Quality Black-Skinned Watermelon] on the table and sliced it open with practiced ease. “Help yourselves. There’s plenty more in storage. I need to head to the kitchen.”

Lin Yan leaned in, inspecting the fruit. She raised an eyebrow. “As expected of a Spirit Farmer. Even your casual snacks are overflowing with Spirit Qi.”

Lin Yu didn’t wait for permission. Seeing the adults hesitating, she grinned and snatched the largest slice, taking a massive bite before anyone could stop her. Juice immediately smeared across her face, but she hummed in delight. Since her sister’s ban, she hadn’t tasted anything close to this quality. The stuff sold in the markets was trash by comparison—lacking in flavor, texture, and Qi.

Seeing Lin Yu go to town on the melon broke the ice. The others reached for slices. Even Chen Bo, who usually viewed Jiang Chen as just a diligent junior, had to admit defeat here. In terms of combat cultivation, Chen Bo was superior; in terms of raising plants and brewing wine, Jiang Chen was in a league of his own.

Jin Fugui, however, wasn’t focusing on the fruit. His eyes kept drifting toward Lin Yan. After a moment of internal debate, he stood up abruptly.

“Well then! I’ll go grill some meat for everyone.”

Sitting around silently was becoming awkward. Jin Fugui had spent the last few months shuttling between Fire Peak and Beast Mountain, picking up quite a few tricks. And despite the differences in gender, Spirit Roots, and cultivation realms, there was one universal language that united all cultivators:

Food.

“I’ll help,” Mo Yu said quickly, eager to escape the stiff atmosphere inside.

Jiang Chen shooed the guests away from the kitchen door. “Sorry, I don’t like people hovering when I cook. Go relax.”

Rebuffed, Wang Bing wandered out of the hut and headed toward the doghouse.

Da Huang was sprawled in the dirt, tail thumping a lazy rhythm. Hearing footsteps, he assumed it was his master and put on his best fawning grin. But the moment he saw Wang Bing, his expression froze. His pupils constricted in sheer terror.

Yip!

The dog shot out of his house like a bolt of yellow lightning, barking frantically as he vanished into the fields.

“Huh,” Wang Bing murmured, unbothered. Her gaze drifted to the chicken coop.

The [Pearl Chicken] blinked, sensing a sudden, overwhelming malice.

A second later, it was snatched up by a pair of “evil” hands and subjected to a frantic, aggressive fluffing session. As its feathers were ruthlessly ruffled, the bird finally understood why Da Huang had fled.

Listening to the squawks from the yard, Jiang Chen shook his head while chopping vegetables. “Looks like Da Huang is going to have nightmares tonight.”

Back in the main room, Wang Ze broke the silence. “Fellow Daoist Chen, I heard your cousin Chen Tian hunted a Great Demon over five hundred years old in the Central Region?”

Chen Bo lowered his watermelon rind. “To be precise, it was a team effort. Chen Tian and several other members of the demon-hunting squad took it down together.”

It was a humble deflection, but the weight of the achievement was undeniable. Chen Tian was a genius, currently at Foundation Establishment Perfection. But in the Central Region—the primary warzone between humans and demons—a five-hundred-year-old Great Demon was a nightmare. Solo kills were rare; survival required perfect teamwork between different elemental cultivators.

“Still,” Wang Ze said, his tone flattering, “even among Core Disciples, few dare to step foot in the Central Region. For Chen Tian to go there… I admire his courage.”

Chen Bo nodded. It was true. Most disciples preferred exploring safe ruins near the sect. But Chen Tian was aiming for an Earth-Grade Golden Core, a breakthrough that required consuming the cores of five specific Great Demons. The Central Region was the only place to find them.

A moment later, the savory scent of spiced meat drifted into the room.

Mo Yu entered, holding two skewers glistening with oil and spices. “Please, try these. If the seasoning needs adjustment, I’ll let Jin Fugui know.”

Chen Bo and Wang Ze exchanged a glance before taking a skewer each.

The aroma was aggressive—spicy, rich, and smoky. The meat was coated in a vibrant red oil that promised heat.

Crunch.

They bit into the crispy exterior. Hot fat and juices exploded in their mouths, mixing with the numbing spice of the seasoning. It was a sensory overload—savory, spicy, and utterly addictive.

Chen Bo’s eyes widened. He finally understood how Jiang Chen’s group had made a fortune selling food at Fire Peak.

Even Wang Ze, who prided himself on his refined palate, gave a thumbs-up between chews. “Delicious. Truly delicious.”

Mo Yu smiled humbly. “We’ve only learned a fraction of Jiang Chen’s skills. He’s the real master.”

The room went silent.

This was just a fraction?

Wang Ze, Chen Bo, and the Lin sisters stared at the kitchen door with renewed respect. If the apprentice’s grilling was this good, what kind of culinary heaven was Jiang Chen preparing?

As time passed, the sky outside darkened, the horizon burning with the gold and violet hues of dusk.

Finally, Jiang Chen’s voice rang out from the kitchen, signaling the main event.

“Dinner’s ready!”