’I’m going to die!’ Ji’an’s internal monologue flatlined, the blood rushing to her head with the force of a tidal wave. ’My heart is going to explode, and my nose is going to bleed! I can’t look at them. If I look at them, I will forget how to speak, how to breathe, and they’ll realize I am a fraudulent, degenerate woman trapped in a reverse-harem nightmare!’

She acted on pure, desperate survival instinct.

Ji’an lunged forward, grabbing a clean, white dishcloth from the edge of the table.

With frantic, trembling hands, she wrapped the cloth completely around her head, tying it tightly in a knot at the back of her skull, entirely covering her eyes.

She effectively blindfolded herself.

The three panting prodigies froze, staring at her in profound confusion.

"Brother Lin?" Zhiwei asked, his voice rough from the spices. "Why are you wearing a rag over your eyes?"

"I am training!" Ji’an shouted blindly into the darkness, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, aggressively refusing to look at any of them. "It is a specialized culinary Dao technique! I am practicing eating without visual stimuli to enhance my palate! Do not perceive me! Just keep eating your spicy meat and put your shirts back on!"

Shiru chuckled, a low, breathy sound that was entirely too raspy. "You are full of surprises, Daiost Brother Ji’an. Though I find your current state... quite charming."

"Shut up, Brother Shiru!" Ji’an snapped, feeling blindly around the table until her hand found her bowl of mild soup.

Wangchen, sitting to her left, stared at the blindfolded person making nonsense excuses.

He didn’t care about the excuse.

He saw the violent blush creeping up her neck.

He saw the way her hands trembled.

A dark, incredibly smug, and terrifyingly possessive realization bloomed in his chest.

’He couldn’t look at us,’ Wangchen deduced, a surge of triumphant heat overriding the spices. ’He couldn’t look at me because the sight of me flustered him.’

The Ice Demon leaned closer, entirely ignoring his exposed chest, resting his arm on the back of her chair.

He didn’t speak.

He just sat there, sweating, panting softly, thoroughly enjoying the fact that her heart rate was currently skyrocketing due to his physical proximity.

"I am going to get more tea," Ji’an announced abruptly, slamming her bowl down. She couldn’t handle the heavy, panting breathing coming from her left and right. "I will be right back. Nobody move from here. And for the love of the Heavens, do not touch my clear broth!"

She stood up, keeping the blindfold securely tied over her eyes.

Using her familiarity with her own kitchen, she navigated purely by memory, stumbling slightly over a rogue root, and disappeared into the shadowed depths of the large, open-air pantry area at the back of the courtyard to retrieve a fresh jar of tea leaves.

While the three prodigies panted and sweated around the hotpot, a completely different, entirely silent crisis was unfolding on the periphery of the Drunken Peak.

Elder Qin Changxu was losing his mind.

He had spent the hours following the executive summit locked inside the freezing, absolute zero meditation chambers of his Heartless Dao Peak.

He had assumed the lotus position.

He had circulated his Flawless Ice Qi.

He had chanted the ancient sutras designed to sever mortal attachments.

It had been entirely useless.

Every time he closed his eyes, he didn’t see the Dao.

All he could see was a grey shilloutte.

He saw the boy waving at him from across the obsidian table.

He remembered the arrogant, disrespectful, utterly captivating spark in those silver-flecked eyes.

The memory of the hot spring, the wet clothes, the heat of her hands on his chest, the undeniable, intoxicating rush of her Yin energy, refused to be purged.

It was a sickness.

It was a corruption of his three hundred years of discipline.

He was an immortal elder, and he was obsessing over a sixteen-year-old male cook who belonged to a rival peak.

’I must see him,’ Elder Qin’s fractured, desperate mind concluded, the logic completely warped by his suppressed obsession. ’I just need to look at him from afar. I need to prove to myself that he is merely a loudmouthed brat. If I see him acting like a fool, this delusion will break.’

It was a terrible excuse, but it was the only one his shattered discipline would accept.

Elder Qin abandoned his meditation chamber.

He cloaked himself in a high-tier stealth array, completely suppressing his formidable Sovereign aura, and flew silently through the night sky, landing softly on the overgrown edges of the Drunken Peak.

He navigated the bamboo groves with the silence of a ghost. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

As he approached the main courtyard, he expected to find Ji’an sleeping, or perhaps arguing with Jiu Zui.

Instead, he heard the loud, chaotic sounds of a dinner party.

Elder Qin crept to the edge of the bamboo, peering through the leaves.

He saw his own prized disciple, Xie Wangchen, sitting at a table with the Holy Son and the merchant heir.

All three boys were half-naked, sweating profusely, their clothes torn open, panting heavily around a bubbling red cauldron.

Elder Qin’s eyes widened in horror.

’What depraved, debauched ritual is occurring here?!’ Qin panicked, his mind jumping to the absolute worst, most scandalous conclusions regarding the youths of the sect.

But as he scanned the courtyard, he realized something crucial.

Ji’an was not at the table.

He tracked a faint rustling sound toward the back of the courtyard, near the deep shadows of the open-air pantry and prep station.

Elder Qin moved silently, bypassing the table entirely, slipping like a silver wraith into the shadowed confines of the kitchen area.

He stepped into the dim light.

The pantry was empty, save for the massive counters laden with hanging herbs and drying meats.

Ji’an must have stepped further back into the storage cellar by now.

Elder Qin stood in the kitchen, his heart hammering against his ribs.