At five in the morning, the city was still deep in slumber. Only the occasional muffled roar of traffic from the distant elevated road broke the silence, sounding like some giant beast talking in its sleep.
Chen Yuanchu snapped his eyes open. His body reacted faster than his consciousness, sitting up on the bed almost like a projectile. His spine was ramrod straight, and his hands subconsciously moved to form a hand seal in front of his chest. It wasn't until his fingertips brushed the soft cotton quilt that the tension slowly drained away.
What met his eyes was a patch of dim grey-blue.
There were no morning bells or evening drums, no crisp sound of copper wind chimes struck by the wind at the eaves, and certainly no damp scent of dew and vegetation mixed with the forest air from the back mountain.
Here, there was only a dead silence.
Buried within the walls was the tireless hum of electricity; the air conditioner's outdoor unit emitted a continuous low-frequency drone outside the window. These sounds were trapped in the narrow space by thick glass windows and concrete walls, stifling enough to cause panic, like a layer of undried sweat sticking to the skin.
Chen Yuanchu sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze falling on the ceiling. It was a pale white plasterboard with stiff, straight lines. As it cut across his field of vision, it carried an industrial indifference, utterly unlike the beams in the Daoist temple that held the curves of wood grain and the visible rings of time.
"Hmm—didn't sleep well—"
He rubbed his temples vigorously and let out a long breath of turbid air.
Living habits carved into his bones over eighteen years seemed out of place at this moment. This discomfort had nothing to do with cultivation; it was purely a physiological rejection by a living, breathing person suddenly stripped of a familiar environment.
Fortunately, a lazy meow broke this suffocating strangeness.
"Xuanmo is awake?"
"..."
"How did you sleep last night?"
"Meow."
Compared to Chen Yuanchu's stiffness, Little Black had clearly adapted much faster.
The mattress underneath was ridiculously soft; Chen Yuanchu disliked the feeling of sinking into it, finding it far less secure than the hard board bed in the Daoist temple. But Xuanmo loved this soft texture, lying on its back inside the duvet, comfortably exposing its little belly.
"If you're awake, stop lying around, you lazy cat!"
Chen Yuanchu rolled out of bed, casually tossing the quilt over the cat. By the time Little Black wormed its way out of the bedding like a bug, he had already pushed the door open and left. The black cat leaped lightly off the bed and followed in his footsteps.
The wall clock in the living room ticked away; the hands had just passed five.
The room was quiet. Clothes washed the night before hung on the balcony, swaying gently in the breeze. Su Wanyin's door was tightly shut, with no sound coming from inside.
Chen Yuanchu knew city dwellers rose late, so he deliberately lightened his footsteps, restraining his presence just as he would when walking at night in the temple.
First, he washed up, then went into the kitchen to find something to eat.
He had bought noodles and eggs yesterday, so he’d make do with that for breakfast.
Standing in front of the gas stove, Chen Yuanchu stared at the black knob for a good while. He tried turning it, but no fire appeared. After pondering for a moment, he figured it out: you had to press it down first, then turn.
[Click—Click—]
Out of curiosity, he specifically moved the pot aside to see how the fire started. He saw several electric arcs burst from the needle point, followed by a soft pop, and a cluster of blue flames danced out of thin air.
"So it's fire started by electricity..."
Chen Yuanchu found it interesting and tried again. This time, he didn't use the electricity, only turning on the gas. He pointed a finger from a distance; a glimmer of light flashed from his fingertip, followed by another pop, and the blue flame ignited on the stove once more.
"It seems magic fire can ignite fire too..."
The young Daoist's expression was plain, as if he had done something perfectly ordinary. But if anyone else had seen this, their jaws would have dropped—this was clearly ignition without fire, completely defying common sense!
However, playtime was playtime. Chen Yuanchu soon spotted the orange "Danger Warning" sticker on the gas meter and put away his antics, honestly starting to fry eggs and cook noodles.
With his keen five senses, he quickly detected that the gas in the pipes was not the same substance as the canned gas used by villagers at the foot of the mountain. He couldn't name the specific components, but the scent was slightly different.
The flames licked the bottom of the pot, and the last digit on the gas meter jumped every so often. This method of delivery through pipes and billing by the meter was much more convenient than lugging heavy gas tanks back and forth.
The pot was hot, and the oil fragrant. He cracked two eggs in, and the whites quickly puffed up at the edges in the hot oil. With a flick of his wrist, Chen Yuanchu flipped the eggs steadily with the spatula. They were fried golden and crisp on both sides without a hint of burning.
Add water, add noodles, season.
By the time the noodles were rolling in the boiling water and the aroma was overflowing, he belatedly realized the range hood above his head wasn't turned on...
No wonder there was so much smoke; these city appliances had so many rules.
Chen Yuanchu's culinary skills were forced upon him by his Master on the mountain. Back then, his Master, wanting to slack off, washed his hands of the duty as soon as Chen could reach the stove. Now, while his skills couldn't produce delicacies from land and sea, they were more than enough for a bowl of egg noodles.
He had thought about making a portion for Su Wanyin too, but considering noodles get soggy if left too long, he decided against it.
He had just sat down at the dining table with his bowl when Xuanmo ran over from the sofa, smelling the food.
"By the way, Xuanmo, do you want cat food? I bought some for you, try something new."
"Meow?"
Chen Yuanchu took a new bowl, opened the chicken-flavored cat food, and poured some in.
Little Black leaned in, sniffing and looking. It looked quite disdainful, as if appraising a pile of unappetizing beans.
"Don't just look, have a taste."
"Meow."
Little Black wouldn't eat.
"I spent money on that."
"..."
Under Chen Yuanchu's gaze, Little Black reluctantly ate one piece.
One piece was too few to taste; it ate another, but its expression remained subtle. Clearly, it wasn't as good as the mice in the mountains.
"What does it taste like..."
Seeing Xuanmo's hesitation, Chen Yuanchu picked up a piece of cat food and tossed it into his mouth to chew.
Fishy and hard, the texture like chewing on wood shavings.
Chen Yuanchu's expression changed slightly. His instinct was to spit it out, but seeing Xuanmo staring at him, he forced himself to swallow it—if he spat it out, this arrogant cat certainly wouldn't take another bite.
"I think it's okay... just a bit dry..."
"Meow?"
You bastard, daring to deceive a cat!
Little Black rolled its eyes. However, while the cat food wasn't as good as fresh fish or mice, it wasn't inedible. It picked at a few bites, then snuggled up to Chen Yuanchu's bowl, trying to share his noodles.
As for the remaining cat food, it would eat when hungry. After all, the city mice mostly hid in sewers and were too dirty to eat; even Xuanmo couldn't bring itself to touch them. How could they compare to the clean ones in