Master, Your Salted Fish Has Arrived - Chapter 20
Stealing my food and mocking me—are you a damn elementary school boy? Liao Tingyan gritted her teeth. You’re a big shot, an Ancestral Master I’m supposed to revere, bullying a rookie like me… and you even dare say it with a straight face?
Unwilling to give up, she fumbled with her divine sense again, determined to eat at least one grape today.
But the ancestor beside her was obviously bored. He turned her snack time into a battle of wills. Each time the grape neared her lips, it veered away at the last second—snatched and eaten by him. After six humiliating defeats, Liao Tingyan admitted temporary defeat.
Then inspiration struck. She aimed one directly at Sima Jiao’s mouth. Surely, based on her understanding of this ancestor, he wouldn’t eat something handed to him.
The grape floated over.
He ate it.
Liao Tingyan: “…” Wrong guess. Goodbye, dignity.
“Ancestral Master, you like eating these?” she asked with a smile faker than sweet wine.
“I don’t like them. Too sweet,” Sima Jiao replied.
Then why the hell are you eating them?!
With a dark thought, she sent dozens of grapes rushing toward his mouth. Eat! Eat your fill, see if I care!
Before they could touch his lips, they bounced back—splattering across her face. Juice dripped down her cheeks.
She froze. …Oh, hell no.
Beside her, Sima Jiao chuckled.
You think this is funny? I’m not playing with you!
Fed up with this grade-school bully, she abandoned the grape war and experimented with water instead. A floating ball of water spread cool and smooth across her face, washing away the sticky juice. It felt surprisingly refreshing—like a high-end water mask.
Huh. If I added spiritual water and some herbs, this could actually work as a face mask… Sure, immortals don’t need skincare, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it!
Just as she was happily layering her DIY mask, a hand plucked it away.
Sima Jiao frowned. “What are you doing? Why compress water into a sheet and stick it on your face?”
Unbothered, Liao Tingyan made another. “Applying a face mask.” Her hands itched again, and she slapped one on his face, too.
“...Hmm?” His eyes narrowed. “What’s the use of this?”
“Keeping the skin moist,” she answered cheerfully.
Sima Jiao stared, baffled. Once again, her logic eluded him. If he used the Oath of Truth right now, the answer would probably be just as ridiculous.
But when Liao Tingyan’s gaze drifted to his wounded hand, her amusement dimmed. She secretly tried channeling spiritual energy into the wound—only for it to vanish like water in sand. Useless.
Still, leaving it open bothered her. Quietly, she crafted a makeshift “immortal bandage” from a large leaf and her spiritual energy. Admiring her handiwork, she felt oddly accomplished.
…
By nightfall, after her flying adventures and that fleeting taste of freedom, reality came crashing back in the form of another flower letter.
Same as yesterday:
【At the midnight hour, below White Deer Cliff, beside the Blue Glow Flowers. If you don’t come, your identity will be exposed, and you won’t live past three days.】
Liao Tingyan’s smile cracked. Not this again. What identity? I’m just a lucky goose! Don’t tell me I’ve got a hidden backstory… and wait—am I the villain here?
Before she could spiral further, a hand snatched the letter from behind.
Sima Jiao.
The flower letter disintegrated into petals in his fingers, scattering into the air before vanishing completely. Not even ashes remained.
His face was unreadable, but the air felt colder.
“You will go to the appointment,” he said.