Master, Your Salted Fish Has Arrived - Chapter 8
Liao Tingyan was mesmerized. That red flame was too beautiful—its glow rippled like silk in water, yet carried a strange allure, as though some hidden spell drew her in.
She leaned closer without realizing it, only to shudder violently as a chill brushed her neck.
Sima Jiao’s hand rested there, cold as a corpse. With an almost careless push, he forced her forward, pressing her toward the lotus fire.
The chamber held only one thing of note: a small jade pool, its surface perfectly still. From its center grew a single red lotus, and above that lotus, a flame burned on its own, untethered, unending.
Even with her shallow knowledge of the mystical world, Liao Tingyan could tell—it was something extraordinary, something priceless. Yet Sima Jiao treated it like a common weed. He plucked a petal as if harvesting vegetables.
The moment he did, Liao Tingyan thought she heard a cry—soft, high-pitched, like a child’s wail. It rang only once, then stopped, leaving her unsure if she had imagined it.
Sima Jiao crushed the petal in his fingers. Another faint sob slipped into the air.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked casually, tossing the petal to the ground.
“Uh… a flower?” she guessed.
His expression turned faintly incredulous. “They sent you here without telling you a thing? The demon realm truly is declining.”
“Yes,” she replied flatly. “Nobody told me anything.” Mostly because my master and senior brothers barely knew me. If I’d known in advance, I’d have faked my death rather than come here.
Sima Jiao didn’t bother explaining further. “From now on, you come here every day to water it.”
“…” Liao Tingyan blinked. Water it? The lotus has a fire sitting on its head. If I pour water on it, won’t I just put it out?
But Sima Jiao was already walking away. Just like that, the heartless boss dumped an impossible assignment on the new hire and swaggered off. No orientation, no instructions, no mercy. Truly a conscienceless dog of a boss!
She stood alone before the flame, staring helplessly. The moment Sima Jiao’s figure vanished, the fire flared twice its size—as though it had been cowering, and now stretched proudly in his absence.
The sudden surge burned a lock of hair clean off her chest.
“…” Liao Tingyan stared. Did a flame just act smug? She rubbed her eyes, but no—its sway definitely looked self-satisfied.
Fine. Boss’s orders were boss’s orders. She’d water it.
She scooped water from the pool with a bamboo tube and lifted it toward the flame. Before a drop could fall, the fire leapt up, splitting into what looked like a giant mouth—and spat a jet of flame straight at her.
She yelped, ducked, and in that instant managed to splash the water onto it.
“Ssszzzt—”
The flame shrieked. Yes, shrieked.
“Villain! Villain! You watered me! I’ll burn you to death!” The voice was shrill and petulant, like a furious toddler.
…In a mystical world, talking flames are also normal. Don’t panic. Stay calm. I can win.
But the little fire puffed and blustered, spewing sparks with outrageous arrogance.
Who knew watering a plant could cost me my life?
Liao Tingyan retreated, dug through her pouch, and pulled out a proper gourd-shaped sprinkler. Thank you, Qinggu Tian, patron saint of farming tools. The original owner of this body really came prepared.
She filled the gourd, aimed, and unleashed a broad spray. Then she ducked, rolled aside, came back with another sweep. It turned into guerrilla warfare—her versus a flowerpot with an attitude problem.
Before long, the flame’s bravado cracked.
“Don’t water me anymore! Wuwuwu—it feels terrible!” It wailed pitifully, coughing weak sparks like a cold-stricken child.
Liao Tingyan lowered the sprinkler, unimpressed. Is this what counts as completing today’s task?
The flame quieted, then asked softly, “I’ve never seen you before. Who are you? How did that person bring you here?”
At the mention of “that person,” its voice dropped to a whisper, as though terrified he might hear.
Loneliness had been gnawing at her too, so she humored it. “I just arrived. I came to serve the ancestral master.”
The flame jumped violently. “So you’re a disciple of Gengchen Immortal Mansion! I knew it—someone finally came to save me! Good, good! Since we’re from the same sect, you’re not allowed to water me again!”
What is this, workplace politics? Boss assigns me to sabotage some other department’s project, and now their representative is threatening me? Classic survival script.
“If I don’t water you,” she said dryly, “how do I report back to the ancestral master?”
The flame puffed up. “Aren’t you his woman? Just act spoiled, he’ll forgive you!”
“…???” Liao Tingyan froze. How did we get there?
The flame was matter-of-fact. “Anyone he dares to bring here must be his. You’re a woman, so you’re his woman. What’s wrong with that? Didn’t your recruiter coach you? Hurry up and charm him! Save me from this misery!”
Ah. Yes. Insane flame confirmed. Five hundred years in solitary confinement will do that.
She ignored its nonsense and watered it again. Better side with the more dangerous boss than a talking matchstick.
The flame howled and cursed. “Sima Jiao, you heartless bastard! You betrayed your teachers and ancestors! If you extinguish me, you’ll die too! And you—stinking woman—I’ll burn you to ashes someday and scatter you in front of him!”
At the name “Sima Jiao,” Liao Tingyan paused. So that’s the ancestor’s name.
But the flame went abruptly silent.
She looked up. Sure enough—Sima Jiao stood at the door, black-robed, expression dark. He ignored her entirely, walked straight to the lotus, and began tearing petals off one by one.
Each petal released a faint sob of pain. Six petals fell. The flame shrank, trembling, suddenly meek.
Without a word, Sima Jiao turned and vanished like a shadow.
The flame whimpered. “My flowers, my poor flowers!” Then it hissed fiercely, “Help me! That man is mad. Follow him and you’ll die sooner or later. Help me instead, I’ll give you treasures. Look at my lotus—one petal equals a thousand years of cultivation. Twenty petals for you if you save me!”
“…Idiot flame.” Liao Tingyan bent down, scooped up the discarded petals, and pocketed them neatly. Seven petals in total, wages earned.
Her mood brightened instantly. No matter how bad the job, if the pay is good, it’s worth it.
The flame spluttered. “No! If you help me, I’ll give you even more. In this world, besides Sima Jiao, only I can pluck these petals!”
She waved him off. “No thanks.” Greed was a death trap. Cultivation leaps of “a thousand years in one bite”? Absolutely the kind of thing that would kill her instantly.
When it kept rambling, she stuffed homemade earplugs in her ears. Task complete, time for rest. As a professional wage slave, she carried a full bedding kit everywhere. Comfort was survival.
Just then, the big black snake crawled in. Spotting her, it hissed happily and came closer.
The flame screeched. “Dog-fucking snake! Get lost!”
The snake ignored it, slurped pool water, then sprayed the flame like a garden hose.
“Oh,” Liao Tingyan thought. So watering the flower is also Big Black’s job. Colleagues indeed.
The flame shrieked like a bullied child. “She already watered me! Why are you spraying me too, you idiot snake!”
The snake doused it again until it sagged pitifully, then slithered to her side and nudged her hand affectionately.
“…Brother,” she muttered, scratching its head. “You’re a snake, not a dog.”
She gave it a bowl of bamboo juice, which it slurped down contentedly.
“Brother,” she asked, “do you know when I can get off work?”
The snake only gulped.
“…Never mind.” She collapsed back. “Let’s just rest a bit. Climbing stairs is exhausting.”
Surprisingly, the snake seemed to understand. It flicked its tongue, then coiled around her, lifting her onto its back.
Wow. First day on the job and I already get a company carpool. A bit dizzy, but not bad.
The black serpent carried her through long halls and high windows. Outside stretched thick iron chains and floating jade tablets, each etched with the word “seal.” The aura was suffocating.
No doubt about it. This whole place is a prison—and he’s the prisoner.
The snake brought her to a wide chamber. Here, shelves, tables, and a stone bed lined the room. At its center, a pool gave off an icy mist.
Someone floated in it.
Black robes spread out like ink in water, black hair drifting like seaweed. A pale face surfaced, serene, inhumanly cold. His robe hung loose, baring collarbones and chest.
Liao Tingyan’s eyes bulged. I can see his… oh no. Deadly. Absolutely deadly.
She yanked hard on the snake’s scales. Retreat! Abort mission! If he catches me peeking at bath time, I’m finished! You evil snake, are you framing me?
The snake only tilted its head, confused.
Too late. Sima Jiao opened his eyes. He rose from the water, gaze locking onto hers.
Liao Tingyan’s survival instincts kicked in. She pasted on her sweetest voice:
“Ancestral Master, I watered the flower. May I… get off work now?”
He stared at her for a long, long moment, until her scalp prickled. Finally, he hummed, low and slow.
She didn’t wait another second. Dragging the snake out with her, she fled.
Behind her, Sima Jiao leaned back and chuckled softly.