Chapter 754 – In the End, Red Stew Is Still Just Meat (1/2)

Chapter 754 – In the End, Red Stew Is Still Just Meat

Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

The setting was a dark and snowy night, a pavilion on the lake, green plums and an earthen stove, with two people sitting across from each other, drinking tea. All in all, it imbued the scene with an elegant and unearthly quality.

Over the past several days, An Hua had imagined that person to be like an aloof noble that disdained worldly things. Now when she saw the scene on the snowy lake, she felt that all was as it should be.

At this moment, the young man in the pavilion raised the cup in his hand and took a sip.

The night breeze had lifted up the curtains, and it had also carried the scent of the liquid within the cup. The crowd was somewhat surprised, because they could smell that the cup was not filled with tea, but wine. To drink wine on a snowy night is still rather elegant, An Hua thought to herself. She bowed deferentially to the pavilion and then raised her head, intending to say something, but she discovered that the young man had disappeared.

The black-clothed girl had also left the table and was now standing near the railing.

Her gaze rested on the lakeshore, as if she was looking at An Hua's group, but also like she was looking even farther away. In the dim light of the snowy night and the mists rising from the lake, her appearance seemed both more vivid and more indistinct. Her face was childish yet also striking in its cool elegance. She seemed like a dream or illusion, or a mountain spirit.

Upon encountering such a beautiful and ethereal girl and such a splendid garden so deep within these remote mountains, anyone would think of a few legends or stories. Even An Hua, who had grown up in the Thirteen Divisions of Radiant Green and possessed a brightly lit Dao heart, also could not help but fall into a momentary daze. She even felt an inexplicable sense of dread.

But she would not leave, because the young array master was still on the stretcher and might die at any moment.

The others would not leave either, as they had not obtained what they wanted to obtain yet.

”Let's go over first,” the general said with a frown.

This journey to seek out medicine was never meant to succeed too smoothly. After all, it was obvious that the master of the Cinnabar Pill was not willing to let other people learn of their true identity.

The squad from the Mount Song Army headquarters stepped on the wooden bridge crossing the lake, their somewhat disorderly steps breaking the silence.

The black-clothed girl seemed unaware. She looked at some point in the night sky, her cold and sublime face utterly devoid of emotion.

Borrowing the dim light of the stars and lanterns, An Hua noticed that the lake beneath the bridge was boiling with tiny bubbles. When they popped, they would condense into the mist that covered the lake. The mist was moist and warm, and it was obvious that the lake's waters came from the hot spring. There was even a chance that there was a crack in the ground at the very bottom of the lake.

When the group entered the pavilion, the black-clothed girl still did not turn around. She continued to look out as if these uninvited guests had not disturbed the mood she had gained from drinking wine on a snowy night.

Or perhaps these people simply didn't exist in her eyes, even if those people were already right in front of her.

An Hua was preparing to bow to her again, but then she smelled something. She subconsciously turned to the earthen stove, and her body went stiff, her face revealing an expression of disbelief.

The earthen stove was very delicate, not more than a foot tall. Even when placed on the table, it did not seem too tall. A clay pot was placed on top of the stove, the pot bubbling and gurgling about like the lake surrounding the pavilion.

The wine was in a little pot decorated with carved plum blossoms. Anything would be thoroughly chilled by the wind and snow, so the stove was not heating wine, nor brewing tea, but rather making stew.

The pot on the stove was making stewed lamb meat.

Compared to brewing tea on a snowy night, this was admittedly less elegant, but it was not enough to shock An Hua so.