Daily life of a cultivation judge Chapter 1460: Stir of wonder (1)

Thoughts about Tang Xiadan’s intentions quickly faded into the background, replaced by more pressing concerns. Yang Qing, eager to celebrate his numerous victories, embraced the joyous atmosphere. He refilled his wine and nibbled on spiced nuts and sesame seeds. However, the festive mood sparked a desire for a more substantial meal to truly mark the occasion. The tenderloins from the green flowered babirusa that Feng Xin had brought back would have been ideal, but alas, both he and Feng Xin had rapidly consumed the entire spirit beast, leaving not even a single morsel.

"A crimson boar from Forest Hog Delights wouldn't be a bad choice," Yang Qing mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. The mere thought made him swallow repeatedly, his mind's eye envisioning a whole crimson boar roasting over an open flame.

"Crimson boar it is," he declared, his voice tinged with excitement, nodding vigorously to himself. The earlier swallowing escalated into full-blown lip-smacking. "It would be even more fitting," he added, as another cherished memory surfaced.

Upon graduating from the Institute and receiving his official appointment and current residence, he and Feng Xin had celebrated by purchasing about a dozen crimson boars from Forest Hog Delights. Their initial plan was for six, but the shop owner offered a significant discount. This generosity stemmed from their graduation, their consistent patronage, and, most importantly, the owner's lingering guilt over a past incident where he had sold them subpar crimson boars. Those defective boars had rendered Yang Qing and Feng Xin unconscious for several days after they consumed twelve of them during their first year at the Institute.

To be fair, the owner bore no true fault for the subsequent events, as he had indeed cautioned them about potential issues with those particular crimson boars. Nevertheless, the proprietor of Forest Hog Delights felt remorseful and, compelled by this guilt, provided the discount.

Yang Qing's grin widened. He eagerly anticipated their return. Stopping by Forest Hog Delights instantly became his top priority upon arriving at the Order, relegating the Formation Hall to second place. It was unavoidable; Forest Hog Delights served some of the most exquisite swine he had ever tasted. They offered it raw and whole for home preparation or expertly cooked it to one's preference. While dining alone, Yang Qing typically favored the latter option. For gatherings, he preferred the former. However, with his recent winnings, even if he were alone, his inner gourmand insisted that it would be a disservice to the moment not to undertake the roasting himself. His skills didn't rival those of the seasoned chefs at Forest Hog Delights, but after months of training and with his innate fire-control abilities, not to mention his diverse array of yang flames, he was quite proficient at roasting any meat, with a particular flair for swine.

As he became engrossed in contemplating the ideal spices, herbs, and complementary side dishes, Yang Qing's blissful, hungry smile abruptly shifted to an expression of curiosity. His gaze drifted toward the door, having detected a few familiar presences approaching his location.

"Mmh, it appears they've arrived after all," he murmured with amusement, adjusting his seating to face the door from one of the individual cushions beside the table. He glanced at the spirit pearl peonies adorning the table, contemplating their removal. A playful smile then graced his lips, and he decided against it. Despite their number, the peonies occupied minimal space on the jade table. There was ample room for his forthcoming guests to settle in comfortably without feeling cramped. The space was more than sufficient for four individuals, or five if Yang Qing included himself.

Yang Qing offered a soft smile as anticipation began to build within him, just as the four figures halted directly outside his door. Three were familiar faces; one was not.

"Daoist Yang Qing, please pardon the intrusion. May we enter?" Han Bai inquired.

"You are most welcome," Yang Qing responded cordially.

Leading the group was Han Bai, his expression typically deadpan, though his eyes, deviating from their usual clear and placid state, now held a discernible glimmer of emotion. It wasn't overt, but having observed Han Bai for some time, Yang Qing felt he had learned enough about the man to recognize when something was amiss. The confirming detail, however, was Meng Song. She offered a smile, much as Yang Qing had come to expect from her, but it differed from her usual mischievous and lively grin. The smile she displayed as she entered the room now felt decidedly stiff.

Yang Qing surmised that Meng Song's stiffness was intentional, a subtle warning delivered in advance, while simultaneously acting as a preemptive apology for whatever she was signaling him about. As an accomplished merchant, a potent cultivator, and an independent cultivator who had weathered countless adversies, it was inconceivable that she wouldn't possess an expert's command over her facial expressions and the ability to conceal her true thoughts. Such a person wouldn't exhibit a stiff smile, betraying their unease, unless it was a calculated act.

Yang Qing's own smile shifted subtly, conveying a silent message in return: that he understood and that she and Bai Chen need not trouble themselves over whatever caused their disquiet.

As his gaze shifted to the individual following closely behind Meng Song, Yang Qing found himself momentarily amused.

The figure, sensing Yang Qing's scrutiny, offered a smile back. "It appears you had a rather bountiful harvest, Judge Yang Qing," Fan Jie remarked, his eyes casting a significant glance towards the shimmering leaves peeking from beneath Yang Qing's outer coat.

"It was not insignificant," Yang Qing replied, his smile warm as he addressed Fan Jie, gently stroking the leaves. "Thank you for your generous hospitality. Your wine was truly delightful," he added, his gaze drifting towards the sorghum wine gourd resting on the table.

"It brings me great pleasure that your stay was enjoyable," Fan Jie responded with a gentle smile. "Furthermore, I wish to extend an apology," he continued, his eyes subtly shifting towards the person walking beside him.

This individual appeared to be in his early to mid-forties. His dark brown hair was styled in a half-bun, and he sported a small beard. He was clad in a simple dark grey outer robe, layered over a matching inner robe that exuded the distinct aura and essence of a wanderer's attire – the kind imbued with the profound experience of extensive journeys. While not visibly faded or worn, the fabric undoubtedly carried the palpable feel of having endured countless days, nights, and seasons across diverse locales and environments.

His face, by all accounts, was remarkably ordinary. Even a fleeting shadow would leave a more enduring impression. It was the sort of countenance that could vanish without a trace in a crowd, and Yang Qing harbored little doubt that it would remain so even within a modest gathering, further aided by a presence as unremarkable as his features.

If there was a single distinguishing characteristic, it was his beetle-like eyes, which seemed to contain an inexhaustible wellspring of curiosity and wonder. Yet, even this feature wasn't immediately apparent. Yang Qing only perceived it due to a similar innate disposition he recognized within himself. Though he might not have known the individual's identity, they likely shared certain fundamental similarities in nature, a realization that the figure seemed to grasp just as swiftly, offering Yang Qing a faint smile and a nod, which Yang Qing subtly returned before refocusing his attention on the smiling Fan Jie.