That morning, I mustered up all my courage and went to knock on Zijing’s door.
This was bold for me, but I felt it was necessary. After all, in these past years within the West Jiang Tribe, I had never dared to behave this way. I had always kept to myself, cooking and handling mundane tasks. But now, I was stepping out of my comfort zone.
When Zijing opened the door, his expression remained cold, as usual. He barely glanced at me, but even that brief look was enough to unsettle me.
Standing there awkwardly, I forced a smile and said, “Sir, I noticed you didn’t eat much last night. I’ve made some porridge for you—it’s light and easy to digest. Please, try a little.”
Zijing remained silent for a moment, his hand on the doorframe. Then, with an almost imperceptible sigh, he said, “I don’t eat food prepared by strangers.” He closed the door.
He closed it!
I was stunned.
Well… to be fair, he wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t young anymore, but how could this child—a young man—be so dismissive of me? Did I really seem that unreliable?
If it weren’t for the West Jiang Tribe’s environment making me used to such treatment, I might have already lost my temper! Forcing myself to stay calm, I put on a practiced smile, softly muttering under my breath, “Even someone as proud as you should take care of your health. Good food, good mood, long life.”
I gently placed the tray with the porridge on the table outside his door, took a deep breath, and left.
I didn’t look back. Without any further interaction, I quietly returned to my room. I felt embarrassed, my heart racing from the encounter, but I reminded myself to focus on the task at hand. After some time, I heard the sound of his door opening and the tray being pulled inside.
Well, at least he didn’t throw it away. Even my awkward effort seemed to have some effect.
The next morning, as I prepared to take the empty tray back, I found Zijing sitting by the window, calmly enjoying the sunlight. Without saying a word, he placed the empty bowl in front of me. Looking up briefly, he asked, “You’ve been here for a few days already. What exactly do you want from me?”
His gaze bore into me, and for a moment, I felt completely exposed.
Zijing didn’t say anything else but looked at me as though I had just interrupted his world. My heart tightened, and I felt as though I had finally stepped into the lion’s den.
I didn’t know how to respond, but I noticed the tray was empty—he had eaten the porridge. All of it.
I smiled, watching Zijing as he ate, feeling oddly content. Honestly, seeing someone enjoy what I made gave me a sense of accomplishment, even though I was only doing it to pass the time. There wasn’t anyone else who needed me to cook. I used to make meals for my younger sisters when they were little, but as they grew up, they didn’t need me anymore. This was the first time in years that I had felt like cooking for someone.
“Speak,” Zijing said, looking up at me after finishing four bowls of porridge. “What do you want?”
His tone was neutral, his expression unreadable. Clearly, he didn’t enjoy meaningless small talk.
I quickly replied, “It’s nothing, really. Sir, I just happened to see a Jiangnan sword last night. It reminded me of you. I thought it might interest you, so I came to tell you.”
The elders had given me a three-month timeline. Before, they had insisted that my role in the tribe was insignificant, but now they pinned all their hopes on me. Truthfully, I had no idea what to say or do. All I could hope was that Zijing wouldn’t dismiss me entirely.
Suddenly, he raised an eyebrow and asked, “You want to be my disciple?”
I was stunned. “I… I’m too old.”
“…”
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