Wen Tang: “...Fine.”
She was clearly helpless against her. With a cold face, she walked over to the stall owner and tossed a handful of spirit stones onto the greasy wooden table. Her voice was flat and devoid of emotion. “One bowl of noodles.”
Song Yao shouted from behind, “Two bowls! Two bowls!”
Wen Tang said helplessly, “Fine, two bowls.”
The stall owner had never seen such a generous customer. Looking up and seeing two ethereal, fairy-like girls, he hurriedly bowed and scraped. “Ah, yes, yes! Right away, coming right up!”
Wen Tang turned and walked back, standing stiffly beside Song Yao like an ice sculpture.
Song Yao gestured with her chin toward the seat opposite her. “Have a seat.”
Wen Tang stared unblinkingly at her fair neck. “No need.”
“Standing there like a personal bodyguard makes people too scared to come over.”
Song Yao rested her chin in her hand and muttered unhappily, “Besides, with you standing there staring at me like that, I won't even be able to swallow my food.”
Wen Tang frowned and stared at her for a long while before finally compromising. She pulled out the bench next to Song Yao and sat down. Her back was stick-straight, and her hands were placed primly on her knees, making her look even more stiff and constrained than when she was standing.
Song Yao couldn't help but smile, her eyes curving into crescent moons.
Even though her Fifth Junior Sister had become like this, she was still quite obedient. At least she was easy to coax.
Before long, the stall owner brought over two bowls of hot noodles. Steam rose from the broth, which was sprinkled with finely chopped green onions, sending the savory aroma of noodles and oil wafting through the air.
After putting down the bowls, he immediately turned around and began packing up his chopping board, tables, and chairs. His movements were frantic, as if he were in a great rush.
Song Yao picked up a mouthful of noodles with her chopsticks. Looking up at his hurried packing, she asked with some confusion, “Boss, it's not even fully dark yet. Why are you closing up so early?”
The stall owner froze, his face paling slightly. He stammered, “You don't understand, miss. At night... the town isn't safe at night.”
“Not safe?”
Song Yao's interest was piqued. She put down her chopsticks and gestured toward Wen Tang. “What a coincidence. My sister here is a cultivator who specializes in dealing with demons and strange occurrences. Why don't you tell us what's so dangerous?”
Wen Tang glanced at her. Before she could speak, the stall owner's eyes lit up for a second before quickly dimming again. He asked tentatively, “Are... are you immortal masters from some sect?”
Song Yao chuckled. “Does upholding justice require a specific sect?”
The stall owner replied, “Of course it does.”
He swallowed hard and lowered his voice. “Sects are divided into good and bad. Didn't the cultivators of Nine Saints Hall collude with Black Cloud Mountain? They're birds of a feather, definitely up to no good. So, which sect do you two belong to?”
Song Yao kept smiling, her voice gentle and warm. “Nine Saints Hall.”
The stall owner: “...”
The color completely drained from his face. The rag in his hand fell to the ground with a wet slap. “Y-you're joking with me, right?”
“Why would I joke with you?”
Song Yao blew on her noodles and took a couple of bites. “Since you know of Nine Saints Hall, you must have heard of me. I am the Second Disciple of Nine Saints Hall, Zhu Zhao. This is my junior sister. She is highly skilled in exorcising demons.”
Hearing that name come out of her mouth, Wen Tang was clearly displeased.
Unaware, Song Yao continued, “I've been traveling for quite some time, and this is the first I've heard of our Nine Saints Hall colluding with Black Cloud Mountain. What, has our Nine Saints Hall not slain enough demons and eradicated enough evil? Where did such a rumor come from?”
The stall owner looked like he wanted to run, but his legs were frozen with fear. His voice trembled slightly. “B-but everyone says that the current master of Black Cloud Mountain is a personal disciple of Nine Saints Hall... that, uh, Wen... Wen Tang...”
His voice grew fainter as he spoke. Song Yao interrupted, “My Fifth Junior Sister was indeed framed by others and is currently trapped on Black Cloud Mountain. I came here specifically to rescue her from this plight. You don't know the whole story, yet you casually slander and frame the entirety of Nine Saints Hall. Don't you think that's a bit inappropriate?”
The stall owner opened his mouth, his eyes filled with panic and terror. “Immortal Master Zhu, I... I didn't mean it that way...”
Song Yao's tone softened. “There's no need to be afraid. I'm not blaming you. Our Nine Saints Hall has always championed eradicating evil and promoting good. Since I've come here, I intend to help. Tell me, what has been happening in the town lately? Is it related to Black Cloud Mountain? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”
Wen Tang realized she was fishing for information, and her fists clenched inside her sleeves.
Yet another case of meddling in others' business.
We clearly agreed not to talk to anyone else.
Liar.
She lowered her eyes, suppressing the urge to stop Song Yao.
No.
Song Yao didn't like being constantly controlled by her.
She couldn't always do things Song Yao disliked.
But it was so annoying, so annoying, so annoying, so annoying, so annoying, so annoying.
Why couldn't Song Yao just focus on her? Why could her eyes not be filled with only her?
Why couldn't Song Yao be a bit more obedient?
Why couldn't Song Yao just stay with her and her alone?
She pursed her lips and remained silent.
Beside her, Song Yao put on a serious face and said with feigned gravity, “If you don't trust me, you don't have to speak. However, looking at your situation, you must have been dealing with this trouble for quite some time. Aside from me, is there anyone else who can help you?”
These words struck right at the core of the stall owner's worries.
Yet Song Yao simply turned back to her noodles and continued eating. “Well, I suppose I am just meddling. Just act like I never said anything.”
The moment she said this, the stall owner grew desperate. With a heavy thud, he threw himself to his knees, his forehead striking the ground repeatedly. “Immortal Master Zhu, I was blind! I listened to hearsay and falsely accused Nine Saints Hall! Please, show some mercy and help us!”
With a creak, the doors of the houses behind the noodle stall were pushed open. Four or five men and women came rushing out, stumbling over themselves. They all fell to their knees as well, their weeping and begging merging into a chaotic chorus. “We beg Immortal Master Zhu to save our lives!”
“We really have nowhere else to turn!”
“Please save us, Immortal Master Zhu!”
The commotion quickly escalated. The townspeople who had been walking along the streets with their heads down also gathered around. Soon, a dense crowd was kneeling on the ground.
Song Yao was still eating her noodles. Looking up suddenly to see this grand spectacle, she nearly choked.
Wait, what?
This display made it feel like she was actually about to ascend the throne.
She had only wanted to fish for some information from the stall owner out of curiosity about what was happening here.
Now, she was a bit stuck and couldn't easily back out.
She coughed lightly, put down her chopsticks again, and said, “Alright, alright. Everyone, please stand up and speak slowly. There's no rush.”
Beside her, Wen Tang's brow furrowed even deeper, the air pressure around her dropping to a near-freezing point.
She already detested these irrelevant people for taking away Song Yao's attention, and now so many more had suddenly appeared.
A bunch of fools.
A bunch of good-for-nothings.
Why did they all need her Third Senior Sister's help?
She clenched her fists and took another deep breath. But suddenly, Song Yao pressed a hand onto her shoulder, using it for support to stand up. She didn't let go, keeping her hand resting on her shoulder. Warmth seeped through the thin fabric of her outer robe.
A faint, barely perceptible scent of medicine wafted from Song Yao.
Her face stiffened, and the surging agitation within her inexplicably eased a little.
Unaware, Song Yao gestured with her chin toward the stall owner at the front. “If you have any grievances, go ahead and speak.”
Rate on N.U.
