Chapter 28: A Plan
The next day, Mo Shan hurried back.
When he arrived at Xinglin Hall, his clothes were torn and dirt-streaked, a bandage wrapped around his arm, soaked through with blood—it looked like he'd just had a vicious run-in with a beast and hadn't even had time to tend to his wounds before rushing back.
Upon learning his wife's life wasn't in danger, Mo Shan finally let out a long sigh of relief. After examining Liu Ruhua again, Old Master Feng also took a moment to help clean and treat the wound on Mo Shan's arm.
A few days later, Liu Ruhua returned home to rest. As instructed by Old Master Feng, she stuck to a light diet, avoided any strenuous activity, took her medicine on time, and absolutely could not use spiritual energy for at least a month.
After a few days at home, both Mo Shan and Mo Hua were kicked out—Mo Shan because he was the captain of the monster-hunting team and had to lead his group out to hunt, and Mo Hua because he was a sect disciple and couldn't afford to fall behind in his cultivation.
Thankfully, Liu Ruhua's condition only restricted her from using spiritual energy; her day-to-day life wasn't too affected.
Mo Shan asked a kind neighbor lady to help look after her, and he returned home whenever he had a break. Mo Hua also made sure to visit during his ten-day rest periods, sometimes even asking for leave from class.
Instructor Yan was very understanding and didn't make things difficult for Mo Hua—he simply reminded him not to neglect his studies and cultivation.
A month later, Liu Ruhua had mostly recovered. While she still couldn't use spiritual energy without triggering fits of coughing, there were no other lingering effects.
Mo Hua was finally at ease—until he noticed his mother didn't seem truly happy. She still smiled, but there was a noticeable gloom in her expression. Sometimes, she would just sit quietly, lost in thought.
Concerned, Mo Hua went to ask his father.
Mo Shan sighed and said, "Your mother's always had a simple wish—to save spirit stones for you, help you grow strong, watch you become a man, get married, have kids… Now she can't use spiritual energy, which means she can't do anything—can't work, can't earn stones. She's spent half her life busy, and now she suddenly has nothing to do, nothing she can help with… that kind of emptiness eats at people."
Mo Hua's chest tightened. After thinking for a bit, he asked, "Does Mom have anything else she likes to do?"
"Something else?"
"Yeah, like something she's interested in—alchemy, talismans, formations, that sort of thing."
Mo Shan thought it over. "She's never shown much interest in those. But… she does love cooking. Not to brag, but in the ten miles around us, no one cooks better than your mother."
He sighed again. "When your mother and I became Dao companions, I made a big promise—that I'd open a restaurant for her, so she could devote herself to creating new dishes. But all these years, she's only ever suffered alongside me. That promise… I've never fulfilled it."
Mo Hua looked at his father, who seemed a little guilty. But he knew it wasn't really his fault.
Mo Shan's cultivation and battle skill were among the best in the local monster-hunting squads. For years, he'd fought bloody battles against beasts and returned home covered in wounds, yet even so, the family was barely scraping by.
The truth was simple: life for low-level rogue cultivators was just that hard. Staying afloat already took everything they had.
Mo Hua said earnestly, "Don't worry, Dad. One day, I'll definitely open a big restaurant for Mom!"
Mo Shan, touched but amused, ruffled his son's hair. "Good!"
Still, with his wife unable to use spiritual energy, even cooking would be difficult. In this world, even chefs needed to be cultivators—restaurant stoves required spiritual fire. Without it, she wouldn't even qualify.
Seeing how depressed Liu Ruhua was made Mo Shan ache inside. He patted Mo Hua's shoulder. "Talk to your mother more when you have time. She listens to you more than me, and it might help cheer her up."
"Okay." Mo Hua nodded.
So from then on, he made a point to chat with Liu Ruhua whenever he was home. Her complexion did improve, but when alone, her expression would still grow distant and gloomy.
If only Mom could use spiritual energy again, Mo Hua thought. But he knew that was unlikely.
Illness came like a landslide and left like threads unraveling. Especially this kind, caused by long-term strain—it could only be healed slowly, with time and care.
There were definitely spiritual herbs and treasures that could cure it, and Old Master Feng had even mentioned a few. But for a family like Mo Hua's, finding such things was impossible—and even if they found them, they couldn't afford them.
Mo Hua could only sigh and give up.
Half a month later, the hottest month of the year arrived. The sun blazed overhead, the very ground seemed to sizzle. According to tradition, the Tongxian Sect granted a summer break lasting over a month.
The annual break and summer break were the two longest holidays of the year.
Due to the heat, most beasts avoided coming out. Those that did appear were fire-type, whose power only increased in such weather, making them incredibly difficult to deal with—so this was considered the off-season for monster hunting.
Mo Shan spent more time at home now, only going out when his team found a valuable target. He'd then be gone a few days before returning with some spirit stones or bits of beast hide.
One time, he came home after such a trip carrying a large bundle. Mo Hua opened it and was stunned. "Dad, this is…"
"It's mountain ox meat," Mo Shan said. "No spiritual energy in it, so it's worthless, but compared to most beast meat, the texture isn't too bad and the odor isn't strong."
"Lately, the hunting team hasn't had much luck. This mountain ox was the only thing we caught. But no one wanted it—the meat's tough, stringy, won't cook through. So we divided it up and brought it home to eat."
Mo Hua looked unsure. "Dad… are you really going to cook this?"
Mo Shan rubbed his son's head. "What, don't trust my cooking?"
Mo Hua chuckled and said nothing.
At noon, Mo Shan stewed the meat. It took forever, but eventually he managed to bring it to the table in a large white porcelain bowl.
"Come on, taste it—see how it turned out!"
The bowl was filled with dark red-brown beef.
Liu Ruhua saw it and set her chopsticks down, just sipping a spoonful of broth.
Mo Hua picked up a piece of meat, chewed it twice… and his jaw nearly gave out. The beef was like rubber, impossible to bite through.
Awkward but polite, he quietly spit it out, then took a sip of broth and praised, "The soup's good!"
Mo Shan rolled his eyes. "Of course it's good—your mother made the seasoning."
Liu Ruhua gave a small smile. "I know you mean well. But making food isn't as simple as throwing things together. Even when using spiritual fire to cook, there are rules—when to use high heat or low heat, when to add which spices and how much… All of it matters."
Mo Hua perked up. "So if we stew it long enough, the beef should soften, right?"
"In theory, yes," Liu Ruhua said. "But that would take a cultivator standing by the pot day and night, constantly using spiritual energy to maintain the flame…"
"Yeah, no normal cultivator would waste time like that," Mo Shan added.
"What if we used a formation?" Mo Hua's eyes lit up.
"A formation…" Liu Ruhua thought for a moment. "I'm not sure, but I've heard from the head chef at the Dining Hall that some large restaurants have furnaces refined by artifact forgers, and formation masters inscribe arrays on them. That way, they can be powered by spirit stones and simmer food for long hours without exhausting a cultivator's energy. But hiring a formation master is expensive. Our old kitchen certainly couldn't afford it."
"I see…"
Mo Hua fell into thought.
Mo Shan picked up another piece of beef, failed to chew it, and finally gave up—he swallowed it whole and used spiritual energy to forcibly digest it.
That night, while practicing formations on the broken stone tablet, Mo Hua kept thinking about restaurants.
The next day, instead of staying home to draw formations, he stepped out under the blazing sun and headed to North Street.
The heat was brutal. After a few steps, he was already drenched in sweat. Still, some stubborn vendors clung to their stalls, listlessly shouting their wares beneath the scorching sky.
Mo Hua reached the biggest restaurant on North Street—Fortune & Blessing Pavilion—and asked the shopkeeper, "Isn't your young master named An… An Xiaopang—no wait, An Xiaofu?"
The shopkeeper didn't look down on Mo Hua despite his simple clothing. In fact, hearing how casually he referred to the young master, the man guessed they might truly know each other and replied courteously:
"You're quite right, little sir. Young Master is upstairs. Would you like me to inform him?"
Mo Hua politely replied, "Please do, Shopkeeper. Just say a fellow surnamed Mo has something to discuss."
(End of Chapter)