The Big Mixed Courtyard grew lively again.
Widow Qin bustled about, lighting the stove. Old Li's wife rummaged through her room and pulled out dried mushrooms and cured meat she had stored for half the winter. He the Venerable even deftly procured a bag of Spirit Rice from the Ice and Fire Cave.
The kitchen was filled with billowing steam and the clanging of spatulas, the long-missed warmth of a bustling kitchen dispelling the recent desolation.
While chopping winter bamboo shoots, Widow Qin discreetly sized up the young man drawing water by the well and whispered:
"Brother Yi seems a little different since he's come back."
She couldn't quite put her finger on how he'd changed, only that he vaguely exuded an air of maturity.
He the Venerable squatted before the stove, feeding it firewood. He gestured with his hands from time to time, saying:
"You should have seen how imposing those Upper Cultivators were! When they spoke, it was like thunder—BOOM! RUMBLE!"
