Fourteen

Could Tianqi speaking really just "briefly" say two sentences?

...Have they forgotten those sixty-second voice messages he sends on WeChat?

Once the class monitor got started, he was off, talking endlessly — one, two, three, four, five, six, seven — reviewing the past and looking to the future, yet somehow never straying off-topic. That took some skill.

Zhou Mu kept his head down for ten minutes. Tianqi was still going strong — clearly wouldn't stop for at least another half hour. He really wanted to give the class monitor face, but he was genuinely worried the dishes would get cold, so he tugged at Youqi's sleeve.

Youqi looked at him: "Mm?"

Zhou Mu said weakly: "Help."

What to do — the class monitor is also the host. How do you rein him in? Who here could, and who would dare?

Youqi considered for a moment, got up, walked over to one of the guests, said a few words, then came back and sat down.

Zhou Mu asked: "Who was that?"

Youqi said lightly: "Tianqi's homeroom teacher."

Although the homeroom teacher hadn't supported it at first, it had come together with encouragement from all sides, so of course they were present.

No sooner had he finished speaking than the homeroom teacher stood up, seizing the moment between Tianqi's first speech and his second, led the applause, the tone rising and falling with feeling — clearly the teaching certificate wasn't earned for nothing: "Tianqi spoke so well! Everyone, shall we give Tianqi a round of applause?"

Everyone clapped together — after all, nobody likes listening to speeches... too little homework!

Tianqi smiled sheepishly and tried to continue, but the homeroom teacher walked up to him again: "This teacher will toast you too — would you like to introduce the dishes to everyone?"

Tianqi: "Ah, okay, but I wanted to finish first..."

The homeroom teacher whispered: "That's enough. You alone waste half an hour — seventy-two people in the whole Canteen, that's thirty-six hours. How many class periods is that?"

Tianqi: "..."

Tianqi was speechless. He drained his milk in one gulp, wiped the milk from his lip: "Thank you all, chef, serve the dishes!"

When those words were spoken, the venue erupted in thunderous applause.

So they say — you fight magic with magic. Elementary school students need their homeroom teacher to rein them in.

Zhou Mu was so happy he kept tugging Youqi's hand. The upperclassman really has a way.

The Canteen workers responded to the call and brought out the dishes, serving them according to ancient ritual — individual portions.

The banquet was divided into several rounds. The first round was the Five Raw Platter — a cold arrangement of lamb, beef, pork, deer, and bear. Standard banquet practice: cold meats first, then hot dishes. The opening dishes of the first round included Shengping Roast, Brocade of the Land, Chopstick-Tip Spring... and so on, ten dishes in all, plus four desserts.

The centerpiece dishes — the anchor courses — came in the second-to-last round; the final round was palate-cleansing fruit. The anchor dishes reportedly included White Dragon's Radiance and Phoenix Embryo, though of course not actual white dragons or phoenixes — the former referred to the mandarin fish of "Peach Blossom Stream, Fat Mandarin Fish" fame, the latter was actually milt.

Zhou Mu's chopsticks first reached for the Zhutou Chun. This Zhutou Chun was actually tender-boned, soft-fleshed quail, marinated, then braised in chicken broth until cooked, then deep-fried until golden and crispy, but not overdone — quail meat tends to get dry easily. One bite, and the crispy skin came off the bone together with the meat, easily detached. Then with a few more crunches, you'd find the bones were also fully crisp, oozing with broth. Although there wasn't much meat, the scarcity left you with a full mouth of savory flavor and a lingering sense of dissatisfaction. If you want to eat fowl, pigeon and quail are the best — no wonder this dish topped the list.

With dishes like these, someone at the table didn't dig in immediately but sat there swaying his head, spouting: "A banquet's success is sixty percent in the kitchen, forty percent in the sourcing! I wonder what ingredients were used?"

Zhou Mu glanced over — the man had the look of an old pedant, wearing a long gown, his graying hair pulled into a topknot pinned with a bare twig, a deep vertical furrow between his brows.

The others, hearing him speak, all lowered their heads and didn't dare respond.

Youqi glanced over and briefed Zhou Mu: "That's the library's administrator, Jin Lao Sheng Xian."

Zhou Mu remembered at once — this was the administrator who'd become a spirit from old texts that Xu Tianyi mentioned during training. They said he was rigid and old-fashioned, hated anyone who disrespected books, and once he caught someone damaging pages or being noisy in the library, he'd ban them for good.

The consequences were serious — for homework, for papers, you needed reference materials, and Hualing Library held many unique or scarce items, no digital versions online, secondhand copies priced like the sky.

So even outside the library, nobody wanted to offend Jin Lao Sheng Xian, lest he take offense. Besides, Jin Lao Sheng Xian loved to drop classical references — communicating with him took effort for the younger Yao Race.

But this banquet was Tianqi's doing, and Zhou Mu knew a thing or two, so he said at once: "Of course only the best ingredients were sourced — beef from cattle around four years old, lamb the freshest and most tender."

Jin Lao Sheng Xian, hearing this, knew Zhou Mu understood food, and cast him a friendly look, the furrow between his brows easing somewhat — even old antiques had their hobbies, it seemed.

Jin Lao Sheng Xian leaned closer: "To know flavor is not to cook! If I may say, the vessels fall short — these four fruits, wouldn't they be more elegant served on small gilt-trimmed plates? These Black Cat Sheriff-pattern dishes aren't refined enough."

"...Great vulgarity is great elegance!" Zhou Mu pointed at his bowl of Milk-Braised Fish — thinly sliced rose-red ham, deep-yellow dried bamboo shoots, brown mushrooms, and fish meat all steeped in rich white milk broth, irresistible — "Teacher, try that one — Yellow River carp, with rehydrated mushrooms, lean ham, and bamboo shoots harvested before the Start of Spring, called 'Treasure Tip.'"

"Oh?" Jin Lao Sheng Xian asked. "Was the fishy vein drawn out?"

Zhou Mu answered: "How could it not be?"

When eating carp, you have to remove the sinew — that white fishy line — so that the meat is tender and not fishy.

Jin Lao Sheng Xian first sipped the thick white broth, then ate the fish — truly tender and fragrant, the mushrooms, ham, and dried bamboo shoots' savoriness setting off the fish's freshness, no heavy seasoning needed, only the natural delicacy, distinct layers yet seamlessly whole.

The old gentleman couldn't help but tap his chopsticks, poetry surging forth: "Since ancient times the common sort all lose to me — what need of rouge and powder to veil such beauty? Peel the golden armor, draw out the jade belt; lay down arms to suck the thick white. The treasure tip lies slender beneath the robe, a faint dawn-blush lightly brushed, inviting tenderness. Surely a being born romantic — not pining for the dragon gate, but coming to your embrace!"

Zhou Mu: "............"

Damn, old man, if you're going to versify about fish soup then versify about fish soup — why make it so lewd? Looking all proper and going this wild — don't you see there are elementary schoolers present?!

Strangest of all, everyone except him heard this improper poem with perfect calm, eating and drinking as usual — so easily bowing to the library's obscene evil powers? Where is integrity, where is courage, where is censorship?

Luckily the class monitor had gone to toast milk at other tables. Zhou Mu, shocked, whispered to Youqi, dissing the old man: "Didn't they say he's an old fogey? What — is he strict only with others and not himself? What kind of spirit from old texts is this improper? Does he even qualify to run a library?"

Youqi said calmly: "Jinping Mei."

Zhou Mu: "............ Oh."

Then never mind.

Jin Lao Sheng Xian, blissfully, took another bite, and asked Zhou Mu: "Won't my young friend compose a verse in response?"

Zhou Mu pretended to bury himself in his food and didn't hear.

Tianqi, after wandering around toasting milk, came back with a slight paunch, and still came over to toast Zhou Mu: "Wuwu, Xiao Mu, thanks to you all this Tail-Burning Banquet could happen."

Zhou Mu hadn't poured a drink either, so he picked up his rice bowl and clinked it against Tianqi's glass, then drained the porridge inside in one gulp: "You're welcome. I also sent you 9G of study materials — study hard, and if you don't understand something, you can ask me."

Tianqi: "...??"

The other guests at the table, polite but with a hint of malice, also said: "You can ask us too, you can ask us too."

Zhou Mu said quietly: "Just don't go to Teacher Jin for essays."

Tianqi's face went vacant; after a long moment, he said miserably: "Thank you all." He drank his milk bitterly: "Then I'll go to other tables, everyone eat well, drink well, and... does Senior Youqi want a drink?"

Youqi shook his head: "No need."

Youqi had only come to accompany Zhou Mu; his portion of dishes had all gone to Zhou Mu, and he hadn't even touched water.

Although in the eyes of the other banquet guests, it looked like Zhou Mu was eating the banquet while Youqi was waiting to eat Zhou Mu... who knew what Zhou Mu's true form was, but he definitely grew back after being eaten — otherwise, after the two had shared a bed this long, why was Zhou Mu showing no obvious signs of being missing pieces? Put another way, if it weren't for the convenience of eating Zhou Mu anytime, why would Youqi share a bed with him?

Not to mention, with Zhou Mu sitting at this table, even though they couldn't eat him, everyone's appetite was stronger — benefiting from Youqi's light, so to speak.

Zhou Mu glanced at Youqi, hesitated a moment, then secretly wrapped up a tiny bit of food from his plate, thought about it, and added a little more inside.

...

The Tail-Burning Banquet over, Zhou Mu and Youqi left the Canteen and walked back along Jinjiang Road.

After dozens of dishes, Zhou Mu was thoroughly satisfied — his efforts before and after had not been in vain.

Seeing no one around, Zhou Mu asked Youqi: "Are you really not hungry?"

"I thought you'd know by now not to ask me that." Youqi looked at Zhou Mu with a half-smile — if those words hadn't come from Zhou Mu, he'd have taken it as provocation.

But he had also told Zhou Mu that he always just used Fasting Pill to get by.

"But the Tail-Burning Banquet was really delicious — don't be embarrassed to eat just because of how others look at you." Zhou Mu took out a paper packet: "Look, I saved you a little dessert."

Youqi, hearing him stumble over those reduplicated words, found it cute, and repeated: "A little little, dessert?"

"Don't mock me — I mean, when I tasted this, I thought you really should try it. What's the point of always using Fasting Pills? Your stomach isn't hungry, but isn't your heart hungry?" Zhou Mu opened the paper packet, revealing the pale yellow Golden Milk Cake inside, giving off a rich, mellow milky fragrance.

Usually, everyone knowing Youqi studied herbalism and took Fasting Pills would think it was a good thing, hoping he'd keep it up, be a Fierce Beast with strict self-discipline. But Zhou Mu thought it over and felt he too had flavors he shouldn't miss.

Youqi leaned down to sniff; Zhou Mu, thinking he was smelling the Golden Milk Cake, even lifted it a little, but Youqi had only leaned close to smell Zhou Mu's fingers — compared to the Golden Milk Cake, he seemed to want to lick these slender fingers that had unwrapped the paper...

"You didn't pick up this habit from birth, did you?" Zhou Mu kept probing. "You've never eaten freely?"

Youqi, seeing his sympathetic look, recalled: "I still remember, when I was small, playing in the mountains, I once caught an adult lin on my own."

Zhou Mu's eyes lit up at once — he knew about this. "Then what, then what? You didn't release it, did you?"

Youqi: "Pretty much — I released it by draining it. Very full."

"Hahahahahaha!" Zhou Mu laughed wickedly. "So it's only since you enrolled that you've been like this. That's still a long time — you should eat more."

His hands searched Youqi's body: "Did you bring utensils? Did you?"

Youqi had specially made eating utensils that he kept in his Qiankun Sleeve, which he carried on his person, just to remind himself. At this moment, he pressed down on Zhou Mu's hand and took them out. He saw that Zhou Mu had already eagerly picked up food for him and brought it to his lips.

The silver chopsticks, carrying food, easily passed through the metal Mouth Cage. Youqi opened his mouth and, for the first time in ages, took a bite of normal food — the crispy skin broke, thick milky flavor flooding his mouth, his taste buds, long unexposed to the normal five flavors, instantly wrapped in warmth, the first moment even feeling slightly unfamiliar. He extended his tongue-tip to curl around the chopsticks dusted with crispy flakes, the metal twisting and swaying as if for an instant disappearing — as if he'd truly licked Zhou Mu's fingertips.

"So sweet." Youqi said.