Chapter 72 Art of Cooking

Little Ancestor’s eyes widened as he watched Xue Yao work.

"You’re good at this," he said, unable to hide the admiration in his voice.

Xue Yao smiled faintly without looking up. Her hands continued moving with calm, practiced ease as she cleaned the chickens, as though every step had long since become second nature. "When food tries to escape and your stomach threatens to go on strike..." she replied casually, "...you learn."

Little Ancestor considered her answer for a moment before giving a solemn nod. "That makes sense."

Xue Yao chuckled softly but didn’t explain herself. There were too many memories behind those simple words—days when catching a single rabbit or bird meant surviving another night. Those weren’t stories she wanted to tell.

She quickly finished unaliving both chickens before hanging a large pot of water over the fire. As the flames heated the bottom of the pot, thin streams of steam gradually curled upward into the cool night air.

Little Ancestor quietly crouched beside her, resting both cheeks in his palms as he watched every movement she made. His golden eyes never left her hands, following every motion so intently that it almost seemed as though he was trying to memorize them.

After a while, Xue Yao finally glanced at him and laughed. "...Why are you staring at me?"

"I’m learning," Little Ancestor replied seriously, his eyes still fixed on what she was doing.

"You’re planning to become a cook?" she asked with an amused smile.

"No." He shook his head.

"Then what are you learning?" Xue Yao asked glancing at him.

Little Ancestor finally looked up at her. "If I know how difficult cooking is..." he answered with complete sincerity, "...I’ll appreciate you more."

For a brief moment, Xue Yao simply stared at him.

The little wolf’s expression was completely earnest. There wasn’t the slightest trace of teasing or mischief on his face.

The corners of her lips slowly lifted. "...Who taught you to say things like that?"

"My uncle." Little Ancestor muttered under his breath.

"Han Luo?" She asked.

Little Ancestor nodded proudly. "He says if you want talented people to stay beside you..." he repeated word for word, "...you have to let them know they’re important."

Xue Yao couldn’t help laughing. "So that’s your plan?"

"Mhm." He puffed out his chest proudly. "I’m going to make you my personal cook forever."

She shook her head helplessly as she smiled. "...You really have your whole life planned out."

"Of course." He looked extremely pleased with himself. "I’m very smart."

"You are," Xue Yao agreed with a perfectly straight face before adding, "...just not when climbing walls."

Little Ancestor’s proud expression collapsed immediately. "I slipped!"

Xue Yao burst into laughter. Still smiling, she finished plucking the last few feathers before thoroughly rinsing both chickens with clean water. Once she was satisfied, she placed one of them onto the chopping board and picked up her knife.

The blade rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Each cut was clean and precise, dividing the chicken into neat, even pieces that quickly covered the board.

Little Ancestor unconsciously swallowed. "...What are you making?" he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

Xue Yao looked up with a mysterious smile. "A dish from my hometown. You’ve never tasted anything like it."

His wolf ears immediately stood upright. "Really?"

"Mhm." She lifted one hand and gave it a gentle wave.

A sturdy wooden chopping board appeared beside her, followed by several small jars of spices. Fresh garlic, ginger, onions, a bundle of dried chilies, and finally a handful of fragrant herbs appeared one after another until everything she needed was neatly arranged beside the fire.

Little Ancestor’s mouth slowly fell open. "...You carry all of that with you?"

For the briefest moment, Xue Yao’s hand paused. ’Oh no I almost gave myself away.’

Then she smiled naturally. "I like being prepared, so I always carried a storage pouch with me."

Little Ancestor accepted the explanation without the slightest suspicion. "...That’s smart... that explains how you were able to cook in prison."

He immediately shuffled closer until he was almost sitting beside the fire, his entire attention fixed on Xue Yao.

"Yeah..." Xue Yao swallowed nervously. ’Damn, I really over did it in the prison... thank goodness the guards were too dumb and enticed to think about it... well I really have a storage pouch... not just literally.’ She thought inwardly.

She poured a thin stream of oil into the heated wok and waited patiently until it began to shimmer. Only then did she add the sliced ginger, followed closely by the garlic and onions. A lively sizzle filled the quiet night as she stirred everything together with practiced movements, allowing the vegetables to soften while their rich fragrance slowly spread through the hidden corner of the courtyard.

Little Ancestor’s nose twitched. Then his ears twitched. A moment later, his fluffy white tail slowly began wagging behind him all on its own.

Xue Yao noticed. She simply pretended she hadn’t.

She sprinkled in the dried chilies and added the spices one after another before stirring everything together once more. The aroma immediately grew richer, carrying just enough heat from the chilies to make the mouth water.

Little Ancestor swallowed. "...Is it ready?" he asked hopefully.

"No," Xue Yao answered as she continued stirring.

A few moments passed. "...Now?" he asked again.

"No."

Another minute slipped by as the delicious smell became stronger and stronger.

"...Now?" Little Ancestor asked for the third time.

This time Xue Yao finally looked up at him. "You’ve asked me three times."

"I know...And?" He asked, blinking his eyes innocently at her.

"...Still no." Xue Yao said with a tired sigh.

Little Ancestor let out such a dramatic sigh that even the leaves above them rustled gently in the breeze. "...Waiting for food is the hardest cultivation in the world."

Xue Yao smiled to herself as she gave the fragrant spices one final stir before adding the chicken pieces to the wok.

The moment the meat touched the hot oil, a loud sizzle echoed beneath the trees, and an even richer aroma burst into the air.

"No," she said with a grin as she continued stirring the chicken through the fragrant spices. "...The hardest part is cooking while someone keeps asking if it’s ready."