Master, Your Salted Fish Has Arrived - Chapter 39
The lakeshore shimmered with fine white sand, dotted with tiny blossoms so pale they looked like snow scattered across the ground. The lake itself wasn’t large; near the shore, the water barely reached one’s calves. Beneath the crystal-clear surface, the bottom was white sand, and ice-blue, semi-transparent fish darted about, their colors luminous against the clarity.
Liao Tingyan stood frozen in place for a long while.
Sima Jiao raised an eyebrow. “Not going to slack off with the fish?”
Slack off… with fish? At that moment, Liao Tingyan wanted nothing more than to scoop up a handful of sand and shove it down this ancestor’s collar.
“I’m not going,” she snapped, tone as firm as stone.
But if she was stubborn, he was worse. Without a word, Sima Jiao bent down, plucked a fish from the lake, and held it in front of her. “Go ahead, touch it.”
His expression said it all: You’re so lazy you won’t even touch a fish unless someone catches it and brings it to you first.
So infuriating that she felt spiritually invigorated, Liao Tingyan grabbed the wriggling little fish with both hands, ready to fling it back into the water.
“I’ve heard these ice-blue fish are good for beauty and nourishment,” Sima Jiao added casually.
That stopped her. She paused mid-motion. How could she take her anger out on such an innocent creature? The fish hadn’t done anything—it was Sima Jiao’s fault. And if the little thing could enhance her beauty… well, better to forgive it.
“If you’re done petting it, you can roast it and eat it,” he said. Sima Jiao, by now, knew exactly where her weaknesses lay.
“Roast it here?” Liao Tingyan’s eyes darted around at the guards patrolling nearby. Catching the fish was already pushing it, but grilling them on the spot? That was pure rebellion.
And of course, Sima Jiao was precisely that rebellious.
Since gaining her spatial storage, Liao Tingyan had made it her mission to become a walking Doraemon—able to pull out anything, anytime. So while muttering “this really isn’t appropriate,” she smoothly produced a barbecue rack.
This wasn’t your ordinary modern rack either. She had seen one at a restaurant, liked the design, and bought it along with several backup sets. Just for emergencies. Just like this one.
“One fish is too little.” She weighed the plump, spirit-rich fish in her hand. It wasn’t even enough for two bites. If she was going to cook, she needed at least enough for presentability.
Without needing another word from Sima Jiao, she marched into the water herself to catch more. He, meanwhile, made himself perfectly comfortable—collapsed on a cushion she’d pulled from storage, looking every bit the pampered househusband.
Fine. He didn’t eat anyway. All the fish would be hers. She didn’t mind.
At least, that’s what she thought. In reality, catching fish turned out to be… a nightmare.
With her Divine Transformation realm cultivation, this should have been child’s play. Yet ten minutes later, she was still empty-handed, floundering in disbelief.
Were these really fish? Or did they know teleportation techniques? The moment she lunged, they vanished like phantoms, leaving her grasping at water. How had Sima Jiao caught one so easily before?
She tried every trick she knew, short of unleashing thunder techniques—which would have fried the fish and drawn every guard within a mile. Nothing worked.
Utterly defeated, Liao Tingyan sloshed back to shore, flopped beside Sima Jiao, and assumed the same posture as the lonely fish lying on the grill rack.
Silence.
But in her mind, she chanted feverishly: Whoever catches lots of fish for me is the best man in the world. I’d admire him, love him, worship him. Men who catch fish are heroes! The security! The handsomeness! The raw, impossible power of fish-catching!
Sima Jiao pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and rose.
The moment he stepped into the water, Liao Tingyan perked up, sitting eagerly by the barbecue rack like an expectant wife. When he returned, it was with a glittering string of fish in hand.
Grinning, she solemnly presented him with a white cloth. “Thank you for your hard work, please—wipe your sweat.”
The sweatless Sima Jiao wiped his hands anyway. “Don’t roast all of them. Make some into soup for me.”
“You’re… you’re going to eat?!”
“I caught the fish. I can’t eat them?”
“Yes, yes, of course you can.”
As she prepped the fish, she couldn’t help thinking: So that’s it. He’s eating because of love. He likes me so much he’ll overcome his food aversion just to taste what I cook.
Her theory disintegrated the moment she tasted the roasted fish.
Heaven. The skin crackled, the meat melted, fragrant and bone-free. The fish soup? So rich and silky she nearly swallowed her tongue.
The soup meant for Sima Jiao disappeared into her belly after two sips from him.
“Tasty?” he asked, chin propped on his hand, mockery glinting in his eyes.
“Tasty,” she admitted without shame, hugging her stomach.
Mystery solved: Sima Jiao hadn’t been moved by love. He simply thought it was delicious.
“In my childhood at Three Saints Mountain, we had deliveries of food daily. This fish was one of them. I ate so much I grew tired of it,” he said flatly.
So… he wasn’t anorexic. Just picky.
Her envy spiked. If he’d eaten like this every day, no wonder he turned his nose up now.
She rubbed her hands together. “Think we can take some to go?”
With a flick of his sleeve, Sima Jiao scooped half the lake into the air. Liao Tingyan scrambled to store the haul in preservation boxes.
“Enough, enough! Leave some to regenerate!”
The lake, Yunking Realm, was famous for its Spirit Nurturing Flying Fish. Palm-sized, centuries in the making, fed on purest spiritual energy—that was why they gleamed ice-blue. Once created by a Sima clan powerhouse, it now belonged to the Shi clan, managed by Shi Qianji, a greedy man who hoarded treasures. Even his own children only received one fish as a rare reward.
And now, half his precious lake was gone.
When Shi Qianji came that day in high spirits, ready to catch a few fish, his anguished scream echoed across the realm.
News spread like wildfire: who had dared rob him of his treasure? The whole Immortal Mansion buzzed with speculation.
Meanwhile, Liao Tingyan sat munching fried fish jerky, realizing belatedly the enormity of the theft—and that it made the fish taste even better.
Beside her, Sima Jiao toyed idly with his little ball, face blank. Which meant he was about to cause trouble.
She glanced at him just a little too long. In the next instant, he grabbed her by the neck, pulled her close, and kissed her.
“Your mouth tastes like fish,” he murmured.
She wiped her lips and continued chewing.
Later, she suggested innocently: “Next time, bring me something tastier. Maybe… beef flavor?”
“What’s so good about beef?”
“Anything! Everything! I want to try it all.”
“You’ve been eating too much. Your belly’s getting fat.”
“Nonsense. Cultivators don’t get fat!”
“Then maybe you’re pregnant.”
She collapsed into her seat. “Impossible! Spiritual intercourse can’t make you pregnant!”
“Who told you that?” His tone was serious, his face unreadable.
“…Wait. It can? Haven’t you people heard of protection?!”
He covered his face with one hand and laughed. Not a denial—just laughter.
Her fury boiled over. She lunged, determined to teach this smug grade-schooler of an ancestor a lesson. He tripped her, pinned her to the table, and held her there with maddening ease.
“I’ll lose weight,” she threatened. “No more soft belly for you to poke at!”
The next time he went out, he brought back a cow.
Not just any cow—a jeweled, silk-adorned, talking cow demon’s wife.
Liao Tingyan nearly fainted.
“I only want to eat cows that can’t talk,” she said coldly.
“Then cut off its tongue.”
The “cow” sobbed.
Liao Tingyan sobbed inside, clutching his hand. “Please, I don’t want it. Touch my belly as much as you like, just send this cow back!”
“You’ve gotten very presumptuous,” he muttered, fingers pinching her waist. But his tone sounded more like a pout than real anger.
The next day, the cow was gone… except it wasn’t. The black snake happily pushed a cage containing a miniaturized pair of cows—the demon and his wife—now “pets” to join the chickens.
Liao Tingyan stared. What a flamboyant move.