My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

The scholar nodded: "That's right. On his way to the capital for the imperial examination, he passed through the Ten Thousand Mountains, encountered bandits, and died on the road."

Yunniang remained silent for a while.

She thought of her husband, who also died in these mountains.

Her heart softened a little.

"How did you get in? There's an ancestral hall in the village; ghosts can't get in there."

The scholar scratched his head: "I don't know either. I just walked in, and nobody stopped me. Maybe your ancestors thought I wasn't a bad person?"

Yunniang didn't believe it, but she couldn't refute it.

She didn't understand the ancestral hall, she only knew that there was such a saying.

"What is your wish?" she asked.

The scholar's eyes lit up: "You're willing to help me?"

Yunniang hesitated for a moment, then nodded: "Tell me about it."

The scholar quickly replied, "It's nothing serious. It's just... there are a few things I didn't do when I was alive, and I'd like to do them."

Yunniang looked at him: "What is it?"

The scholar counted on his fingers: "First, I want to eat a good meal. When I was alive, I was poor, and when I was traveling, I ate dry rations. I never had a proper meal. After I die, I won't be able to eat anything."

Yunniang was taken aback. She thought it was some extraordinary wish, but it turned out to be a meal.

"That's it?"

The scholar nodded: "This one. Is it alright?"

Yunniang thought about it and agreed. It's just cooking a meal, no big deal.

She told the servants to go home and rest today.

The housekeeper asked her why, and she said she wanted to be alone today and didn't want to be served.

Although the steward found it strange, he didn't ask any further questions and left with several maids and servants.

She was the only one left in the house.

Yunniang walked into the kitchen, tied on an apron, and rolled up her sleeves.

The scholar followed behind, standing at the door, not daring to go in.

"Come in," Yunniang said.

The scholar shook his head: "The kitchen is the Kitchen God's territory; it's not appropriate for me to go in."

Yunniang glanced at him: "Didn't you just go into the mourning hall too? Even the ancestral hall couldn't stop you, so what makes you think the Kitchen God can?"

The scholar thought about it and agreed that it made sense. He carefully stepped over the threshold, stood in a corner, and tried to stay as far away from the stove as possible.

Yunniang started cooking.

She used to cook at her parents' home before she got married, but after she married into the family, she was served by servants and didn't touch a spatula for a year.

She picked up the cleaver, aimed at a piece of pork, and made a cut—but missed.

Another cut, and it missed again.

She frowned and made another cut.

"hiss--"

The blade grazed my finger, leaving a small cut from which a bead of blood oozed.

The scholar, watching anxiously from the corner, asked, "Are you sure you can do it?"

Yunniang put her finger in her mouth and mumbled, "Okay, why not?"

She picked up the knife again.

The scholar couldn't bear to watch any longer, so he walked over and took the knife from her hand.

"I'll do it."

Yunniang glared at him: "You are a scholar, a gentleman should stay away from the kitchen."

The scholar had already placed the meat on the cutting board, and with swift and clean strokes of the knife, he cut the meat.

The meat slices were thinly cut and neatly arranged on the plate.

Without looking up, he said, "I have no parents and have cooked for myself since I was a child. If I don't eat, I'll go hungry. How could I care about being a gentleman?"

Yunniang was stunned by his practiced movements.

She remembered what her husband had said—he had also lost his parents at a young age and had to cook and eat for himself.

She stood by the stove, watching the scholar who was chopping vegetables with his head down, and suddenly felt a lump in her throat.

After cutting the meat, the scholar went on to chop scallions, ginger, and garlic. He was incredibly fast; his knife skills were even better than the best cook in the village.

As he chopped, he said, "You just need to help me start the fire."

Yunniang said "Oh," squatted down behind the stove, and stuffed firewood into the firebox.

The fire was lit, the pot was hot, the scholar poured in oil, added scallions and ginger, and sautéed until fragrant.

The meat slices sizzled as they hit the pan, releasing a delicious aroma.

His stir-frying movements were very efficient; he tossed the wok and flipped the pan in one smooth motion.

Yunniang squatted behind the stove, watching the figure busy at the stove, and suddenly said, "Were you really a scholar before?"

The scholar added a spoonful of soy sauce to the pot: "Yes. I've taken the exam several times, but I haven't passed."

"So, what about now? Do you still want to take the exam?"

The scholar paused in his stir-frying, then continued: "The person is dead, what's the point of taking the exam?"

Yunniang fell silent.

The scholar cooked two more dishes and a soup. The dishes were served neatly on the table.

Braised pork belly, stir-fried bok choy, stir-fried cabbage with vinegar, and an egg drop soup.

These are all home-style dishes, and they look delicious.

The scholar sat across the table, looking at the dishes, and swallowed hard.

Yunniang handed him a pair of chopsticks: "Eat."

The scholar took the chopsticks, picked up a piece of braised pork, and put it in his mouth. He chewed it, swallowed it, and then picked up another piece.

"Is it delicious?" Yunniang asked.

The scholar nodded, his mouth full, and mumbled, "Delicious."

He picked up a piece of bok choy, then a piece of cabbage, and took a sip of soup.

He ate slowly but very attentively, chewing each bite for a long time, as if trying to remember the flavor.

Yunniang sat opposite him, watching him eat.

She didn't touch her chopsticks; she just watched.

The scholar ate half a bowl of rice, then suddenly stopped.

Why aren't you eating?

Yunniang shook her head: "I'm not hungry."

The scholar glanced at her, asked no further questions, and lowered his head to continue eating.

He ate all the food on the table, even finishing the soup.

I let out a long sigh of relief when I put down my chopsticks and bowl.

"Thank you," he said.

Yunniang smiled and said, "You're welcome. Is there anything else you wish for?"

The scholar thought for a moment: "There are still a few items. Can we leave them for tomorrow?"

Yunniang nodded.

The scholar stood up, cleared away the bowls and chopsticks, and took them to the kitchen to wash them.

"I have to go." He stood at the door, glanced back at her, and said, "Come again tomorrow."

Yunniang stood inside the house, looking at him.

The scholar took a few steps, then stopped, turned back, and said, "Don't do anything foolish again. It's good to be alive; there are so many beautiful sights in the world that we haven't seen yet."

After saying that, he turned and left.

No, to be precise, it suddenly disappeared from the spot.

Yunniang stood at the doorway, staring blankly at the spot where she had disappeared for a long time.

She then went back to the kitchen.

The clean bowls and chopsticks were neatly stacked on the table.

The grease on the stove in the kitchen was wiped off, and the pot was scrubbed clean and hung on the wall.

......

Sunlight streamed in from the eastern hills, over the low wall of A-Luo's house, and into the courtyard.

The loofah vines in the corner were still covered with dewdrops, which glistened in the sunlight.

A few sparrows hopped around on the wall, chirping and chattering, I don’t know what they were arguing about.

The mist on the distant mountains had not yet dissipated, hanging in wisps on the treetops like white gauze being hung out to dry.

Ye Qingfeng stood in the courtyard, hands behind his back, walking slowly.

I walked from the base of the wall to the jujube tree, from the jujube tree to the well, and then from the well back to the base of the wall.

We walked slowly, each step feeling like walking on clouds.

The sunlight shone on him, giving his bluish-gray Taoist robe a faint warm hue.