Ye Wenshu hunched over, secretly scribbling on a piece of silk paper, occasionally glancing at Yuan Ji with a furrowed brow or smiling at Qi Yan. Before long, the palm-leaf-sized sheet was filled with writing.
To repay the spirit stones he and Old Xuan owed the River God, he had been racking his brains lately, writing until his hand nearly cramped.
The problem was, his stories were mostly romantic—full of “passionate, heart-wrenching” love affairs. If anyone caught him writing this stuff openly, he’d rather feed himself to the man-eating plants!
“Finally, almost done!” He exhaled in relief, setting down his brush and weighing the thick stack of silk paper in his hand with satisfaction.
Just then, an intense, spicy aroma wafted from the courtyard, making him sneeze violently.
“Achoo!”
“Achoo!”
“Yan Ku, what the hell are you cooking? It smells like a fire-breathing dragon’s breath in here!”
Tears streamed down his face from the pungent assault. Assuming Yan Ku was experimenting with some new dish, he yelled toward the courtyard without looking.
But the moment the words left his mouth, the spiciness intensified—as if someone had shoved a chili right under his nose.
Ye Wenshu jerked back, sneezing uncontrollably, his vision blurring with tears.
“Yan Ku!” He shouted angrily, convinced the man was messing with him.
Yet Yan Ku’s voice came from far away, clearly in the backyard. “Why are you yelling for me?”
Ye Wenshu froze. “…Huh?”
Xuan Chengren, who had witnessed everything, calmly approached and handed him a handkerchief. “Wenshu, this has nothing to do with Yan Ku.”
“You can’t just defend him because his cooking’s good! Where else would this spice bomb come from—the sky?!” Ye Wenshu grumbled internally, feeling wronged.
Xuan Chengren hesitated, glancing at the courtyard before patting his shoulder. “See for yourself.”
Ye Wenshu wiped his face and forced his eyes open—only for them to widen in shock.
“Wh-wh-what the—?!” His hands trembled. “Am I hallucinating?!”
In the small front yard, a vibrant green chili plant—lush with leaves and adorned with over a dozen bright red peppers—was running around in the sunlight, leaving a trail of fiery spice in its wake.
He had never seen such an energetic chili plant before!
Wait, since when do chili plants sprint around like overexcited puppies?!
Dizzy, Ye Wenshu steadied himself and cautiously moved toward Yuan Ji and Mu Zhao, avoiding the chili’s erratic path.
“Young Master Mu, your powers are… impressive.” Please make it stop!
Mu Zhao, trying to stay inconspicuous, gave a strained smile. Could he say it wasn’t him?
“Good. Keep going.”
Unlike Ye Wenshu’s despair, Yuan Ji seemed pleased with the lively plant. The red chilies looked warm and inviting—if one ignored the fact that they were moving on their own.
The system, silent: “…”
Ignoring Ye Wenshu’s pleading eyes, Mu Zhao rummaged through his bag for another seed. If a malnourished one produced this, he didn’t dare pick a healthy one.
Carefully selecting a tiny seed, he began another growth cycle.
A moment later, a dark green, spike-covered plant of unknown origin appeared before them.
Ye Wenshu and Mu Zhao exchanged glances, then looked back at the hyperactive chili plant and the new spiky monstrosity. In perfect sync, they retreated three steps and crouched, covering their heads.
A single thought crossed everyone’s minds: Please don’t let this thing start shooting spikes.
The mental image sent chills down their spines.
Mu Dezhong wiped sweat from his brow, fearing that if the River God kept “training” the young master like this, they’d die of fright before the rival family could even attack them.
“River God,” he bowed. “The young master’s spiritual energy is still unstable after awakening his companion plant. Perhaps he should rest before continuing cultivation?”
Mu Zhao shot him a grateful look and stepped forward. “Yuan-jie, I’m running low on energy. Let’s eat first!”
As if on cue, Yan Ku emerged from the backyard, eyeing their odd expressions before scratching his head.
“River God, lunch is ready.”
Yuan Ji sighed in disappointment but nodded. A quick scan confirmed the figure outside the temple was still lurking.
As the group hurried toward the backyard, Luo Qiushui noticed Qi Yan pausing thoughtfully to observe the two mutant plants. Her eyes gleamed—an opportunity.
She swiftly linked arms with Yuan Ji, whispering, “River God, the side rooms here are too simple. It pains me to see you living like this. Why not stay at the Heavenly Peak Palace for a while?”
“River God, the crystal butterflies I made are even prettier now! Let me show you later!” Luan Xuan, not to be outdone, seized her chance, darting over. “My brother says they’re almost done with their project. You should visit—our back mountain is beautiful!”
By the time Qi Yan snapped out of his thoughts, Yuan Ji was already “flanked” on both sides.
His gaze darkened as he spotted a certain onlooker. A cold aura lashed out.
Qu Yunqing, caught off guard, yelped as his fur puffed up—then promptly shed in clumps, leaving him bald.
Tears welled up, but he didn’t dare complain. Slinking along the wall, he scurried to Yan Ku. At least he was in mink form, not human.
I shouldn’t have laughed at the Lord’s misfortune!
Once the crowd dispersed, a breeze swept through the courtyard, creaking the gate open.
A figure slipped inside.
The man-eating plants forming the fence twitched their leaves but, remembering Yuan Ji’s orders, settled down—only snapping at the occasional insect, behaving perfectly.
Amid the peaceful scene, a sheet of silk paper—left behind by Ye Wenshu—fluttered in the wind before snagging on the spiky plant’s thorns.
With no one around to notice, the dark green spikes slowly… turned red.
The intruder paused at the stone table, his golden robes shimmering under the sun, the jade pendants at his waist clinking softly.
Meng Youdao’s haughty expression cracked the moment he spotted the peach-blossom pouch left behind.
“Guan’er… I came too late.”
Grief overwhelmed him. Tears poured down like a broken dam, salty and bitter on his lips.
Snapping back to reality, he tensed.
Something’s wrong!
He would be emotional over Guan’er’s belongings, but not this much. Was there a mind-altering array at work?
Wiping his face, he scanned the area—but found nothing.
Except…
That suspiciously swaying chili plant and the spiky thing covered in paper.
Meng Youdao’s instincts flared. He quickly pocketed the pouch and backed toward the gate.
Unbeknownst to him, the chili plant stopped. Its red peppers slowly rotated—locking onto him.
Danger!
His pupils shrank. He leaped for the wall—
THWACK!
A chili shot toward him.
“AHHH!”
The scream pierced the sky. Ye Wenshu nearly dropped his bowl.
“Who the hell—?!”
Everyone exchanged glances before rushing forward—only to freeze at the sight of floating red powder and the burning air.
…Was it the chili plant?
Qi Yan sighed and pulled out a bottle of pills. “These will block the spice.”
Grateful, they swallowed them instantly. The relief was immediate.
Yuan Ji glanced at Guan Muping and Ai Xiang—clutching a lamb leg—before striding ahead.
The screams grew louder.
For some reason, Mu Zhao’s unease deepened.
Then he saw it—the chili plant chasing the intruder, its peppers exploding one by one, coating him in a cloud of spice.
Ah. Of course.
Nothing blessed by the River God’s power could ever be normal.
Wu Boshan and the others watched sympathetically. Poor guy. First man-eating plants, now this?
“Tch. Ugly.”
Yuan Ji eyed the struggling figure caught by the pitcher plant, her disdain evident.
Too “spicy” to look at, she turned to leave.
“Wait!” The system stared at the homing-chili abomination. “What is that?!”
“A chili plant,” Yuan Ji said matter-of-factly.
The system: “…”
It swore the seeds were just ordinary ones from the shop. How did they turn into this?!
“Just put him down. If the pitcher plant eats him, your plans are ruined.”
Yuan Ji hesitated but relented.
THUD!
Meng Youdao hit the ground in a puff of chili powder, coughing violently.
Seizing the chance, the chili plant lunged, snatching the pouch from his robes and presenting it to Yuan Ji with an oddly fawning gesture.
…Were they imagining things?
Guan Muping eyed the plant warily, inching away—only for two chili peppers to swivel toward him.
After a tense pause, he reluctantly offered his lamb leg.
The chili plant: “?”
A tiny pepper sprouted, dusting the meat with spice—turning it into a perfectly seasoned dish.
Guan Muping: “?”
…Thanks?
“The pouch!” Ai Xiang recognized it instantly, her eyes reddening at the sight of the spice-covered fabric.
Yuan Ji patted her head and pulled out the real pouch from her bracelet.
“Relax. The one I gave you is safe.” She flicked the fake, and a leaf fluttered down. “This is a decoy.”
Ai Xiang blinked away tears and nodded firmly. “Mm!”
“Fake? Impossible! Give it back!”
Meng Youdao staggered up, livid. “You thief!”
“You’re* the thief!”* Wu Boshan pointed accusingly. “Sneaking in—what were you trying to steal?!”
“Yeah, projecting much?” Yan Ku eyed his lavish robes, a gleam in his eyes.
“River God, he’s clearly suspicious. We should interrogate him.”
Meng Youdao scoffed. “Return Guan’er’s belongings, or face the consequences!”
Yuan Ji smirked but stayed silent, watching him coolly.
Then—
“You’re wrong!”
Ai Xiang, tiny but furious, shouted.
“This was my mother’s! Not yours!”
