Immortal Paladin

[POV: Gu Jie]

They finished their noodles in relative silence, though Ru Qiu’s delighted slurps still echoed in Gu Jie’s ears long after she set her chopsticks down. Rising from her seat, she brushed her robes clean and made for the door. The path forward had become clear to her through her Destiny Seeking Eyes, and she knew where they needed to go. Yet, when she glanced back, she realized Ru Qiu had not followed. Instead, he was heading deeper into the eatery with a strange gleam in his violet eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked sharply, already dreading the answer.

Ru Qiu turned slightly, smirking with childlike arrogance. “I am going to make the person who cooked these noodles my personal chef. I may even honor him further and turn him into my disciple!”

Gu Jie almost screamed, her voice echoing through the dining hall. “No, you don’t!” She rushed forward, grabbing his arm, but Ru Qiu was like an immovable mountain. With her small frame no match for his overwhelming strength, she ended up grabbing his foot in desperation. He continued striding toward the kitchen without slowing, dragging her along the wooden floorboards as though she were nothing more than an ornament clinging to his heel.

The bystanders gawked, some whispering behind their sleeves, others laughing at the absurd sight of a dignified young woman being hauled across the ground. “What a commotion,” someone muttered. “Is that girl his servant?” another added. Gu Jie’s ears burned with humiliation, but Ru Qiu paid no attention to the crowd.

Desperately, she consulted her Destiny Seeking Eyes. Vision after vision split before her: Ru Qiu tearing down the kitchen door, kidnapping the cook, threatening to scorch the place in black flame… all leading to chaos. None of them offered a favorable outcome. Finally, one path flickered with possibility. Clutching at it, she shouted, “Fine, fine! I will cook for you!”

That made him pause. Ru Qiu turned his head with a smirk. “Oh? And how good are you, woman?”

Gu Jie rose to her feet, brushing dust from her robes with a forced air of dignity. “With my special ability, I might as well be the best cook you will ever find.”

Ru Qiu leaned closer, eyes glinting with dangerous amusement. “Then prove it.”

And so, the two of them ended up in the kitchen, much to the shock of the actual chef. Gu Jie bowed quickly, apologizing profusely, before shoving a small pouch of coins into the man’s hands. The hefty weight of mortal money bought her both silence and cooperation. With the cook gladly renting them the space, Gu Jie tied her hair back, rolled up her sleeves, and prepared to demonstrate that sometimes destiny worked in stranger ways than she ever imagined.

“If I manage to shock your tastebuds to awe, you better listen from me now on, do you understand?”

Ru Qiu merely scoffed, looming behind her, arms crossed, and watching every motion with amused curiosity. The pressure of his gaze made her skin prickle, but she forced herself to focus. Cooking was no trivial task, not when she had declared herself the best.

She laid out flour on the board and began kneading the dough. Each press of her palms was steady, rhythmical, yet in her eyes, countless realities branched. In one thread, an alternate Gu Jie was haggling with the store owner for the recipe, prying out details of spice ratios and hidden steps. In another, her alternate self wandered into the heart of the city, seeking advice from experienced cooks, learning tricks passed down for generations. All of these realities collapsed into her movements, every tug and fold on the dough infused with knowledge gathered across nearly infinite visions.

She boiled water until it rolled with lively bubbles, sliced fresh vegetables from the pantry, and prepared thin strips of beef. Chili oil shimmered crimson under lamplight as she splashed it across the pan, followed by a dash of wine that hissed into steam. Garlic, scallions, and seasoning stirred together into a fragrance so thick it seemed to envelop the entire room. Finally, she rolled out the dough, sliced it into fine strands, and dropped them into the pot. When they surfaced, she pulled them free, glossy and supple, layering them carefully into bowls.

Ru Qiu leaned closer, his eyes fixed with unsettling hunger. “You take this too seriously,” he muttered, though his tone betrayed a hint of reverence. “But I must say, you look confident.”

Gu Jie ignored him, arranging the beef slices, scattering herbs, and topping it with vibrant vegetables. She added the final garnish with a flourish before ladling the rich broth over everything. The aroma spread like a tidal wave, thick with spice, tang, and warmth.

The cook, who had been peeking nervously from the doorway, finally entered, his nose twitching like a hound. “What in heavens’ creation is that?” he exclaimed, awe and disbelief shaking his voice.

Gu Jie placed the finished bowl on the counter. The sight alone would have tempted Da Wei himself, she thought bitterly. Her adoptive father would probably salivate, teasing her for making him wait so long to eat.

Ru Qiu’s throat worked as he swallowed, his pride stripped by raw desire. “Can I?” he asked, voice almost hoarse.

Gu Jie handed him a pair of chopsticks and gestured to the steaming bowl. He dug in instantly, not even bothering with grace. The cook stood by, wide-eyed, his own hands trembling as the fragrance clawed at his restraint. “Could… could I also have a taste?” he asked timidly.

Ru Qiu snapped his head around, glaring at the man with black, smoldering eyes. The cook froze, sweat pouring down his back.

“Of course you can,” said Gu Jie, firm enough to override Ru Qiu’s silent threat.

The Heavenly Demon and the humble cook slurped side by side, both their expressions shifting from disbelief to rapture. Ru Qiu’s usually cruel features softened as his eyes fluttered shut, savoring every bite, while the cook’s knees nearly buckled as he murmured praises under his breath.

After much coaxing, bribing, and a lengthy explanation of the noodle recipe, Gu Jie and Ru Qiu were finally allowed to leave the eatery. But the cook wouldn’t give up that easily. Still on his knees, he pounded the floor with his forehead as tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Goddess, please! Take me as your disciple!” he begged, his voice hoarse from crying. “I’ll devote myself entirely to your teachings! I’ll even abandon this shop if you demand it!”

Gu Jie raised both hands in protest, shaking her head quickly. “No, absolutely not. I’m far too young for that. I’m still finding my own way… How could I possibly guide someone else’s? Stand up, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“But your cooking…” the man whimpered, clutching at her sleeve. “It was divine! More than food… it was enlightenment itself!”

“It’s just mortal food that happens to taste really good,” Gu Jie pulled her arm free, giving him a tired but sympathetic look. “You flatter me too much. The truth is, I just used what was available and pushed myself harder than I should have. Don’t chase after me… I won’t change my mind.”

Behind her, Ru Qiu folded his arms with a smug grin. “Pathetic. If you can be moved to tears by noodles, then you’re unworthy of my Gu Jie’s tutelage.”

“I am not ‘your’ Gu Jie!” she snapped, glaring at him.

Ru Qiu chuckled, unbothered. “For now.”

Finally slipping out of the shop, Gu Jie muttered under her breath, “Heaven help me… both a weeping cook and a spoiled demon, trailing after me like lost puppies.”

Ru Qiu had come away from the ordeal thoroughly corrupted. He strutted beside her, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction as he declared, “From this day forward, I must have my fill of your cooking three times a day!” His eyes burned with a childish fervor that would have been charming, had he not been a creature of such terrifying power.

Gu Jie nearly stumbled on her own feet. “Three times a day? Are you insane?” She pressed her fingers to her temples, feeling the pounding headache from earlier resurface. “That one meal nearly broke me. If I try to keep up with your appetite, I’ll collapse in a week.”

Ru Qiu frowned, his expression darkening into disapproval. “Your cultivation is pitiful. How can you call yourself my cook if you can’t even withstand the strain of preparing food for me?” His tone carried the same weight he might use to scold a subordinate for failing on the battlefield.

She glared at him, swallowing the impulse to scream. “Once a month,” she said firmly. “I’ll make an entire pot. Enough for several servings. You can gorge yourself until you’re sick if you want. That’s the best I can offer.”

He tilted his head, studying her as if weighing her words for deceit. At length, he relented, muttering, “Hmph. Fine. But I expect it to be of the same standard.” He patted his robes with a satisfied smirk. “Luckily, I still have a pot’s worth of noodles and broth stored in my pocket dimension. I shall treasure it… for now.”

Gu Jie rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to tell him how utterly spoiled he had become in less than a day. Instead, she pressed forward, steps deliberate as she led him through the streets. The city bustled with its usual mix of hawkers, drunkards, and hidden watchers in alley shadows. She did not slow until they arrived at a modest inn, its paint faded but walls sturdy enough to be livable.

She walked down the narrow stairs, past dim lanterns that flickered in stale air, and into a long hallway that smelled faintly of ink and steel. Stopping before a certain door, she knocked in a rhythm that only a select few would recognize.

A muffled voice from within called, “Did you buy it?”

Gu Jie leaned close, whispering back, “I did buy protection.” The words carried layers of meaning, part of a code they had been weaving, altering, and reshaping since the beginning of their operations. To outsiders, it meant nothing. To her comrades, it was reassurance that she came without enemies on her tail.

The lock clicked, and the door creaked open. On the other side stood a young woman with tightly braided hair and sharp eyes that softened the instant she saw Gu Jie.

“Ye Yong,” Gu Jie greeted warmly, her lips curving with a rare smile. “How are you doing?”

At once, Ye Yong dropped to one knee, her body trembling with restrained emotion. Behind her, the gathered figures of the Night Blades followed in unison. Their voices rang out together, reverberating through the cramped room:

“Greetings to Lady Gu Jie!”

Ye Yong was the first to speak, her voice steady but carrying the tension of relief. “Lady Gu Jie, the Great Guard has been deeply worried. He ordered us, the Night Blades, to search for you and the others without delay.” She lowered her gaze, then added with a faint smile, “He also suspected you might find us first. It seems his guess was correct.”

The title Great Guard was their code. To outsiders it sounded like some faceless superior, but Gu Jie knew the truth, every syllable pointed back to her father, Da Wei. A quiet warmth bloomed in her chest, though she forced herself to remain composed.

Then the room shifted as Ru Qiu walked in without the slightest care for the solemn atmosphere. He dragged a chair across the floor, the scrape echoing against the walls. Dropping into the seat, he pulled a steaming bowl of noodles out of his pocket space as though he had simply remembered he was hungry. The first slurp filled the silence like thunder.

Everyone froze. The Night Blades glanced between Gu Jie and the dark-haired stranger who ate as if the world belonged to him. Even Ye Yong blinked, her composure faltering as the sound of noodles being inhaled grew louder.

Gu Jie’s cheeks burned. She forced herself to clear her throat and step deeper into the room. “Enough. Rise, all of you,” she ordered, her voice a little higher than usual. “We’re not on parade.” She shut the door behind her with more force than necessary, then turned to glare daggers at Ru Qiu, who remained impervious, blissfully lost in his meal.

Ye Yong leaned closer, speaking in hushed tones of Qi Speech, her words hidden from normal ears. “Lady Gu Jie… forgive my boldness, but… is that the Heavenly Demon?”

Gu Jie could already feel her patience unraveling. The slurping grew louder, as if mocking her attempts at dignity. She covered her face with one hand, exhaling in defeat. In the same Qi Speech, she whispered back, “Yes, that’s indeed him. He’s a bit wrong in his head right now… and no, I don’t know why.”

The Night Blades shifted about the cramped room, and for the first time Gu Jie noticed their attire. Silk robes of red, green, and gold shimmered under the faint lamplight, a far cry from the black leathers and muted cloaks she had grown used to seeing them in. Sequins glinted at their sleeves, and one even wore a feathered cap so garish that it nearly made her laugh despite the gravity of their reunion.

“What’s with the colorful clothes?” Gu Jie finally asked, arching an eyebrow.

Ye Yong’s braid swayed as she bowed her head slightly before replying, “We are posing as members of an entertainment troupe, my lady. The troupe is called the Old Willow. It provides the perfect cover. We can travel freely, gather news, and no one questions why we linger in city after city.”

Gu Jie studied them more closely. The layers of makeup, the props peeking from their packs such as drums, flutes, and painted masks. It was clear they had committed fully to the act. She couldn’t deny the cleverness of the disguise, but part of her still found it odd to see assassins dressed like wandering performers. Inwardly, she admitted Da Wei’s foresight never ceased to surprise her; he had thought far enough ahead to ensure his blades could slip into the world unseen.

Ru Qiu slurped noisily in the corner, completely unconcerned, drawing a few nervous glances. Gu Jie ignored him and focused on Ye Yong once more.

“Can I talk to the Great Guard?” she asked at last, her voice steady but low, carrying the weight of everything unsaid.