Cultivation Retirement Plan (BL)

There were four glorious seconds where Ouyang Che got to bask in the sudden surprise of his question. Then Mo Yixuan sent it all crashing down with one sentence.

“You don’t need to eat.”

Ouyang Che had taught him that himself: high level cultivators had exceeded the need for regular food and drink and all of Star Pavilion Sect’s peak lords qualified.

“Need and want are two vastly different things,” Ouyang Che said airily, then sat on the same boulder where Mo Yixuan had been resting before. “It must have been, oh, nearly a hundred years or so since I’ve last seen you cook. Do you still remember how?”

Mo Yixuan’s mouth twitched.

—

A few hours later saw the three of them sitting around the table in the courtyard to get ready for lunch. Nan Wuyue’s portion was straightforward: a generous helping of rice, a large side of stir-fried pork strips and green beans, and a bowl of tomato and egg soup.

Ouyang Che glanced between the boy’s bowls before staring at his own plate. “What is this?” All he could see were what looked like round white cylinders covered in some sort of red sauce.

“Rice cakes,” Mo Yixuan said simply. “It’s fully vegetarian, very flavorful. Have a taste.”

Still looking doubtful, Ouyang Che picked up his chopsticks and slipped the first rice cake in his mouth. Moments later, he hissed before choking on the sauce, sending him into a coughing fit.

Spicy! So spicy!

He looked vainly around from a drink and grabbed the cup of clear liquid resting by his bowl. But as soon as he downed its contents, tears came to his eyes.

By the fangs of a two headed dragon, it was alcohol!

“You—!” he pointed a finger at Mo Yixuan, who only shook his head.

“You didn’t need to eat it.”

“You didn’t tell me this was spicy!”

“Was I supposed to?” Mo Yixuan arched a brow. “You never mentioned that you couldn’t handle it.”

“Hahah.” Ouyang Che mouthed out the words. “I see the petty part of you is still alive and kicking.”

Nan Wuyue only ate his rice and kept his head down. When did this suddenly turn into a strange family luncheon scene? From his experience, Ouyang Che and Mo Yixuan detested each other. Moreover, he’d even gotten the carefree peak lord’s help in his first life to overthrow his master. Now, it seemed…

...that the two of them were getting along?

He thought back to the day when Mo Yixuan had emerged from the qi refining spring. His master had left him at Mt. Luojia to recover while riding Ouyang Che’s sword back to Mt. Jingting. If he remembered correctly, that was when the oddities with Mo Yixuan began. Since when had he ever held entire conversations with Ouyang Che?

“Boy, I’ll take what’s due to me as guest from your share!”

That was the only warning Nan Wuyue got before Ouyang Che blatantly aimed his chopsticks at the disciple’s portion and stole away a large mouthful of rice, meat, and vegetables. He immediately bristled—he didn’t like people stealing his things!

His chopsticks flew out and grabbed two sauce-slathered rice cakes from the peak lord’s plate before stuffing them into his mouth. They were spicy, but also sweet, a mix of heat and rich, delicious flavor that warmed him up in the chilly mountain peak. Bits of white sesame and freshly chopped scallions added a refreshing bite to the dish that offset its cloying, chewy texture. As someone from the south, Nan Wuyue had grown up used to milder flavors in his food, so the sudden assault made his throat and eyes sting. But he didn’t dislike the taste, and the rush of victory he felt at Ouyang Che’s annoyed gaze only made him relish at the pain.

(If Mo Yixuan could read Nan Wuyue’s mind, he’d call him a masochist again.)

“Who let you grab from my dish?” Ouyang Che complained.

Nan Wuyue swallowed before he rasped out, “Shizun’s cooking started again because of me. I’m only eating what would be mine if Peak Lord Ouyang wasn’t here.”

“Cheeky little brat!” Ouyang Che narrowed his eyes, then hit the side of Nan Wuyue’s untouched soup bowl. As bits of soup splashed into the air, he grabbed the spoon, collected the liquid, and fed it into his mouth. “I’d argue, but I’d rather take some refreshments!”

Not willing to be outdone, Nan Wuyue picked up the soup bowl and downed half of its contents in one gulp. “Peak Lord Ouyang has good taste. This soup is indeed refreshing!”

Two more mouthfuls of rice and meat vanished under Nan Wuyue’s eyes. “While you linger over the drinks, I’ll be sampling the main course!”

Nan Wuyue responded by spearing five more rice cakes onto his chopsticks and gobbling them down whole. “Peak Lord Ouyang should know that visitors shouldn’t overstay their welcome!”

At this, Ouyang Che simply kicked the stool out from underneath the younger boy. “Children without manners don’t belong at the table!”

“Guests who speak over their hosts won’t be invited a second time!” Nan Wuyue shot back, maintaining his sitting position as he stabbed into the plate of rice cakes and hauled it towards him.

Ouyang Che stopped him with his chopsticks mid-way, and the two began a furious tug of war slash melee battle on the tabletop. Their struggles splashed sauce on the table before Nan Wuyue’s chopsticks slipped, sending two rice cakes skittering off the edge of the plate and into the air…

SLAM!

Both figures whipped their heads toward Mo Yixuan, who had slammed his palms onto the table as he rose to his feet. The various plates and bowls were knocked clear into the air. Before they could fall down again, Mo Yixuan circulated his qi and fixed them in place mid-air. Even the two stray rice cakes remained suspended in stasis, centimeters from staining the table as their sides glistened with red sauce.

“Don’t play with your food,” he stated, leveling them both with a look.

As Nan Wuyue and Ouyang Che kept staring, Mo Yixuan simply waved his hands. Half of Nan Wuyue’s portion, still uneaten, flew into Ouyang Che’s plate while a portion of his reached Nan Wuyue’s. The two errant rice cakes returned to their original places as Mo Yixuan withdrew his hands into his lap.

Ouyang Che was the first to react with a clap of his hands. “Wonderful qi manipulation, junior brother! Not a grain of rice or a speck of spice out of place!”

Nan Wuyue was more subdued. “Apologies for my behavior, shizun.”

Mo Yixuan’s eyes simply swept over the table for a final inspection before he rose to his feet. “Clean your plates,” he stated to them both, then swept gracefully out of the courtyard.

Ouyang Che’s lips drew into a wry smile at being treated like a child, while Nan Wuyue stared wordlessly after the tall, retreating form. He suddenly realized that this was the first time he’d ever acted so impulsively in front of his master. In his last life, he’d barely spoken in front of the man, being too self-conscious at his own weakness. Later on, that had morphed into suppressing his own hatred against the man who exerted his will over him again and again.

But there had been no pressure from his master ever since he emerged from the qi refining pool. Even when Nan Wuyue got his attention, Mo Yixuan always seemed to maintain a cool distance between them, only doing what he needed to and nothing more. That wasn’t the master he used to know, and it bothered him how the present and his memories wouldn’t match up.

“Eating your fill of the scenery, are we?” Ouyang Che’s playful lilt reached his ears, causing Nan Wuyue to whip his head back.

“Peak Lord Ouyang, is shizun...alright?” he suddenly asked.

Ouyang Che only gazed at him dispassionately. “Are you worried about him?”

A flicker of unhappiness flitted across Nan Wuyue’s face as he instantly rejected the idea. “He just hasn’t been himself,” he said.

“That’s true,” Ouyang Che hummed softly in his throat. Now a half-smile graced his lips, but the amused expression never reached his eyes. “Everyone in the sect’s heard of how he dotes on you. I suppose it’s a shock to see his affections suddenly run cold.”

He watched with growing mirth as the boy next to him seem to bristle at his choice of words. When Nan Wuyue looked ready to retort, Ouyang calmly released some of his aura, the potent qi instantly weighing on the table like a mountain. He was mildly surprised when Nan Wuyue faltered slightly before holding stubbornly on, his back still straight as he sat with furrowed brows.

“I don’t care about that,” Nan Wuyue gritted out, his voice cold.

Here was the little rebel at work. Ouyang Che suddenly found it a pity that Mo Yixuan had “reformed.” If things kept on, he certainly could have taken the boy under his wings as a way to expose his master later.

“I think you ‘care’ about it very much,” he retorted, still smiling. “But whether you really know what you’re getting yourself into is another thing entirely.”

Nan Wuyue stiffened at those words. In another time, another life, Ouyang Che had said the exact same thing before secretly drawing him to his side. Together, they had worked against Mo Yixuan and his corrupt ways in the sect. But that hadn’t happened until years from now, so why was Ouyang Che parroting the same sentence again? Could it be that his meddling had escalated things ahead of schedule? Was the peak lord ready to take him in as an ally right now? Unconsciously, Nan Wuyue held his breath, waiting for the pivotal sentence that would cement their cooperation in this life.

You see more than you let on. I can help you open the eyes of the entire sect.

“You’re blinder than you realize. I can’t help you see if you won’t even open your eyes,” Ouyang Che said briskly as he picked at his plate. Nan Wuyue stared at him, dumbfounded. Ouyang Che only arched an eyebrow at him. “And you’ve been a little too obvious as of late.”

Immediately, a chill ran down Nan Wuyue’s back. He frowned—that had been happening a lot more often too.

“Do you think you understand everything just because you’ve been raised at this sect since childhood?” the peak lord continued on. “I was here since its founding. I know its past and its secrets much better than you.”

“Then—” Nan Wuyue fumbled. “Then do you know—”

“It’s none of your business what I know,” Ouyang Che cut him off as the pressure around them intensified. Sweat broke out on Nan Wuyue’s brow as he fought against a crippling weight that seemed to be crushing him from above. “But be clear that I can guess your designs thoroughly, and am only tolerating them by choice.”

Ouyang Che wasn’t a man who cared what the peak lords did to their disciples, but he didn’t miss any slights against his fellow sect siblings. Half a month ago, he would have been content to let this master and disciple pair fester their relationship away. But now that “Mo Yixuan” was dead and replaced by a stranger, it was too soon to watch him fall prey to such petty scheming yet.

Nan Wuyue wasn’t convinced yet. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the older man and whispered, “I thought you hated him.” There was no need to clarify which “him” he meant.

“I did,” Ouyang Che admitted. “I still do.” But “Mo Yixuan” and Mo Yixuan are two completely separate things.

“Then why—”

“Again, that’s none of your business,” Ouyang Che interrupted. “I believe you have a job to do.”

He stood up abruptly, pushing his plate towards Nan Wuyue. The disappearance of Mo Yixuan had long stolen his appetite, leaving him to trace out a single character in spicy sauce on a surface of white rice.

蠢 Chun. Imbecile.

“If I wasn’t here, then these dishes would all be yours,” Ouyang Che echoed. “Remember to clean your plate.”

The lack of pressure in the air signaled to Nan Wuyue that Ouyang Che had gone, but he didn’t move beyond staring at the insult decorating the rice.

Moments later, he stabbed his chopsticks into the mound and broke it apart.

—

By the time Ouyang Che found Mo Yixuan again, it was to see the man standing at the edge of his peak, peering down towards the distant valley below. He skillfully skipped up the rough stone pathway until he was standing next to the other man.

“You’re not going to jump off again, are you?” Ouyang Che asked.

Mo Yixuan simply glanced at him, then back at the landscape below him. “I dismissed the idea,” he admitted. “But now that you’re here, I don’t mind giving it another try.”

Ouyang Che laughed. “After the stunt you managed last time, I doubt it’d do you any harm now.”

Mo Yixuan’s gaze didn’t shift, but he did tilt his head to listen better. “Last time?”

“When you flew.” Ouyang Che elaborated. “I didn’t get to explain, but ah—most of us don’t do that here.”

As if doubting his words, Mo Yixuan’s eyes rose to the skies, where cultivators were whizzing left and right. Are you playing me for a fool?

“Anyone can fly with a spirit sword or special treasure,” Ouyang Che continued. “Hovering mid-air for short periods is possible for fights too. But no one’s managed to soar up from a cliff while carrying another person so effortlessly.”

Mo Yixuan felt like correcting him: it was Nan Wuyue who’d clung to him, not the other way around. But explaining took effort, so he simply pushed that aside to keep listening.

“As we cultivate, our bodies get lighter,” Ouyang Che explained. “You can say that the bones and flesh are refined at each level we rise towards divinity. Eventually, we lose the need to eat or drink. We grow all but weightless, and flight becomes simply an afterthought, not a skill. It’s been ages since anyone’s accomplished such a feat, because we all have things that weigh us down—our attachments to this world.”

As Ouyang Che spoke, a breeze ruffled past his hair, tousling the ebony locks in lazy waves framing his face. “People have joined sects for ages to cultivate: for fame, for power, sometimes for strength or ambition and wealth. There’s a lot one can do with a cultivator’s skills, but few lack the pure motivations to make it to the end.”

Mo Yixuan’s expression grew incredulous. If Ouyang Che was implying that he had such motivations, then he was sorely mistaken.

“You don’t need to focus wholeheartedly on cultivation to make advances,” Ouyang Che added, reading Mo Yixuan’s expression clearly. “You simply need to...take things lightly.”

Lightly. Weightlessness. Was Ouyang Che down to making bad puns now? Mo Yixuan remained unimpressed as the other peak lord folded his arms.

“Mo Yixuan, what do you think of this world?”

---

Nan Wuyue's lunch: 

Ouyang Che's snack: