Chapter 7: Junior Sister Zhuang Yun

Returning to the somewhat chilly Yunyin Taoist Temple, the three disciples exchanged glances, their eyes inevitably settling on the few shriveled steamed buns on the dining table, a faint awkwardness hanging in the air.

The previous night's meal had already depleted the last of the temple’s vegetables, leaving only some flour barely enough to make the buns before them.

Zhuang Qitong felt a swirl of emotions. He had never imagined the temple would reach such dire straits as to be unable to afford a proper meal.

But then he thought, having just sold beast skins and cores for two hundred thousand today, after paying the rent, there would still be more than enough to dine out comfortably.

“Let’s go! Today I will take you to the best restaurant to welcome our Master!” Zhuang Qitong declared with grand enthusiasm as he waved his hand.

Clenching his teeth, Zhuang Qitong then led the group into the most bustling commercial center of District 11.

The dazzling scene before them felt otherworldly—a future world three thousand years hence, alive with endless streams of vehicles and radiant neon lights.

They headed straight for the renowned upscale restaurant—the Taiping Hotel.

The restaurant occupied an entire four-story building, its luminous storefront prominently displaying a photo of the District 11 governor. Social elites of all kinds gathered here, each intent on demonstrating their refined taste and status.

Yet amid the crowd clad in suits and bedecked with jewels, a few Taoist priests in somewhat disheveled robes stood out starkly.

“Please wait a moment; a server will bring you the menu shortly,” the receptionist smiled politely, guiding Zhuang Yun and her companions to a corner seat on the left as they entered.

Zhuang Yun took a sip from her glass and immediately grimaced. “What kind of water is this? Bitter, astringent, and with a strange aftertaste.”

The second senior sister handed her a tissue and softly explained, “This is ‘Lóngqīng water,’ the most common nutrient solution. Everyone drinks it as if it were ordinary water.”

“I see,” Zhuang Yun murmured, suddenly longing for the goji berry tea from the thermos back at the temple.

Looking around, they noticed the servers tirelessly attending to the lavishly dressed patrons but seemingly ignoring their modest group.

The youngest junior brother grew restless and approached the front desk to inquire.

“It’s like this: those guests had reservations in advance, so they receive priority service,” the receptionist explained courteously, though a trace of disdain flickered in her eyes.

“What about those people just standing around doing nothing?” the junior brother asked impatiently.

The receptionist knew the idle staff were waiting for VIPs but chose to maintain her professional smile without revealing this.

Zhuang Yun had already seen through the facade of this place—it was a shining veneer masking deep snobbery. She loudly declared, “If the water tastes this bad, the food surely won’t be any better. Let’s just leave.”

The group left feeling indignant. Zhuang Qitong immediately activated his light-brain device and left a negative review on the District 11 food forum.

However, their criticism was quickly drowned out by subsequent glowing reviews.

The group felt stifled with frustration. It was one thing for them to suffer mistreatment, but for their Master to endure such slights was intolerable.

Noticing their downcast spirits, Zhuang Yun comforted them, “Don’t worry. One day, I’ll have the governor invite us all out to eat personally.”

Following her suggestion, they decided to choose simple, home-style dishes, steering clear of those so-called nutrient solution “gourmet” meals.

After all, not drinking nutrient solutions didn’t mean they’d become malnourished—it was just a gimmick.

So Zhuang Qitong led everyone to the underground city, on the first basement level of District 11, where storefronts on the surface were exorbitantly priced, so many chose to open shops below.

As mealtime approached, the air filled with enticing aromas. They picked a small local eatery nearby to order.

“Boss, we’re ready to order!” the youngest junior brother called out loudly.

At that moment, a familiar, slender figure appeared before them.

“Isn’t that Lin Yiwen?” Zhuang Qitong exclaimed, suddenly understanding why Lin always said he had to go back during mealtimes—he was working two jobs here.

He silently resolved that when things improved, he would make sure the boy received more wages.

Lin Yiwen said little, his gaze calm and distant.

He quietly handed over menus and a pen, and as the others marked their desired vegetarian dishes, Lin Yiwen busied himself preparing the food.

Zhuang Yun watched the young man’s long, strong hands as the blue cooking flames reflected on his focused face.

He skillfully adjusted the heat, stirred, and tossed the wok, and Zhuang Yun felt as if he were controlling the fire with inner energy. She thought silently, “A man who can cook is truly handsome.”

Noticing Zhuang Yun’s burning gaze upon him, Lin Yiwen looked up. Under the dim yellow light, her delicate features and bright eyes drew him in completely.

Their eyes met, and Lin Yiwen felt a sudden flutter of unease.

Zhuang Yun laughed heartily, “Add one portion of braised pork!”

Zhuang Qitong and the others were not surprised. After all, they had witnessed their Master devouring mutton skewers while battling ferocious beasts.

The strict Taoist codes were flexible for their Master! Eating more meat meant more strength to fight monsters! That was how it was!

Lin Yiwen, however, was stunned. He remembered that Taoist priests and their disciples were forbidden from eating meat, yet this new female disciple openly ordered braised pork?

But he soon recovered and nodded to acknowledge the order.

While waiting for the dishes, Zhuang Qiyun activated his light-brain device to pay Wang Po’s rent and gave the three disciples some pocket money for emergencies.

Seeing the incoming funds on their devices, the disciples’ eyes sparkled like stars; they were overjoyed, never having seen their Master so generous before.

Zhuang Qitong knew they had come into a modest fortune this time, but he understood it was not his doing.

“Hurry and thank our Master!” he gestured to the disciples.

They understood and prepared to show their respects.

Zhuang Yun quickly stopped them, “Stop! From now on, just call me Zhuang Yun when we’re out. I’m about your age; calling me Master only feels distant.”

“That won’t do! Respect for seniority can’t be broken!” the disciples protested.

Zhuang Yun explained, “Look, if you call me Master outside, someone might overhear and get suspicious. If they investigate and arrest me, what then?” She shrugged helplessly.

After some thought, they agreed her reasoning made sense.

Zhuang Yun continued, “To outsiders, I’m just another junior sister. You can call me that.”

They understood her intent and nodded. “In front of others, you’re our junior sister! But you’re still our Master!”

The three disciples silently called her “little junior sister,” their ages all similar, with Zhuang Yun appearing the youngest.

Zhuang Yun devoured the braised pork with gusto. She hadn’t eaten meat in ages! She gave Lin Yiwen a thumbs-up. “Lin Yiwen, your cooking is absolutely delicious! Burp~ I’ll definitely come back! Burp~”

Lin Yiwen felt warmth spread through him. Usually quiet and reserved, few ever complimented his cooking. This was a first.

Yet his expression remained calm, “Thank you.”

After the meal, Zhuang Qitong took Zhuang Yun to purchase essential supplies for life in this world.

Suddenly, a bruised and bloodied man was unceremoniously thrown onto the street by two burly men, landing right in front of Zhuang Yun.

The crowd surged past, no one stopping, as if such scenes were commonplace.

Zhuang Yun helped the injured man up and noticed the triple concentric circles engraved on his mechanical prosthetic limb.