Chapter 36: I will never eat so much again

As the final cycle of her Core Condensation Technique came to an end, little Mengyao finally wrapped up this round of cultivation.

Not because she couldn’t keep going—far from it.

But… she was starving.

After all, it had been a full day since her last meal. Even with the abundant spiritual energy continuously replenishing her, the gnawing hunger still jabbed at her now and then.

Time felt fuzzy inside the cave, but Mengyao had a vague sense that it had been long enough.

Her senior brother had said it himself: cultivation must strike a balance between work and rest. A little relaxation now was laying the foundation for greater breakthroughs later.

She stood up and glanced around the cave’s depths.

Empty. Not a soul in sight.

Mengyao furrowed her brows. Where had Sister Ningyue gone?

She called out, “Sister Ningyue? Sister Ningyue?”

But after several unanswered shouts, her head drooped in disappointment.

With both her senior brother and Sister Ningyue gone, the silence felt especially lonely.

Wait—A sudden, serious thought hit her.

Had they… left her behind?

But no, she shook her head quickly. That couldn’t be. Senior brother always said she was a reincarnated powerhouse!

Surely they wouldn’t just abandon someone as important as her. Right?

Still… what if all those words were just to keep her calm?

What if this so-called “training trip” was just a setup?

Maybe senior brother had found an excuse to leave first.

Then Ningyue stayed behind just long enough to lull her into a false sense of security before sneaking off too, meeting up with senior brother to head home together.

And without her.

They weren’t as fast as she was in sword flight, sure—but senior brother remembered the route. Sooner or later, they could find their way back to Xuanxing Sect.

Meanwhile, little Mengyao?

All she remembered was being tugged along by her twin ponytails—left tug, fly left; right tug, fly right.

Yes, it hurt a bit.

But for some reason, Mengyao had found it… kind of thrilling.

More importantly, being led by senior brother like that had made her happy. So happy, in fact, that she’d completely forgotten the way back.

Without senior brother’s guidance, she couldn’t make it home.

Tears welled up and streamed down her face.

Had they really abandoned her?

No!

She couldn’t just sit here and cry. She had to go back. She had to find them and explain everything—explain that she wasn’t being greedy, just tired. That’s why she ate so much!

And if they still minded, then she’d eat less in the future.

Sure, cultivating on an empty stomach sucked, but if it meant she could stay by senior brother and Sister Ningyue’s side, she could deal with it.

Clenching her teeth, Mengyao stood up from the pool, dressed quickly, strapped on her longsword, and marched toward the glowing barrier that marked the exit of the cave.

She didn’t know how long they’d been gone.

But if she took off now, maybe—just maybe—she could catch up.

Please, heavens above, don’t let me get lost.

With that, the determined little Mengyao charged forward.

The moment she passed through the glowing barrier, a mouthwatering aroma hit her like a wave.

She sniffed—and within seconds, her mouth was watering uncontrollably.

Just from the scent alone, Mengyao knew: this was Sister Ningyue’s cooking. Freshly made, too.

So… had she been wrong?

Maybe they hadn’t abandoned her after all. Maybe they just wanted to teach her a little lesson—starve her a few times so she’d remember not to overdo it.

Her eyes brimmed with tears again—but this time, from relief.

A little hunger was nothing, so long as they hadn’t left her behind.

Without a second thought, she bolted toward the source of the smell.

When she reached the cave entrance, there they were—senior brother and Sister Ningyue—sitting together, awkwardly nudging food at each other.

The sight made Mengyao’s eyes go red. Tears started falling again.

So it was because she ate too much that they’d gone off to eat in secret…

Even though this wasn’t quite what she had originally imagined, Mengyao had already made up her mind:
From now on, she would control her appetite.

If she didn’t, she might just end up eating the entire Xuanxing Sect out of house and home—and then really be abandoned.

Without hesitation, she threw herself into her senior brother’s arms and, choking back sobs, cried out:

“Senior brother… Sister Ningyue… I—I won’t eat so much anymore. Please don’t leave me behind again…”

The two were stunned—less by her sudden tears, and more by the utterly bewildering confession. Still, they had saved her a portion of the meal. In fact, her share was bigger than either of theirs.

Ye Ping’an had a theory: maybe Ningyue had been sneaking Mengyao extra drumsticks for the past two years.

Even though she was younger, her appetite had somehow surpassed his.

Or maybe it was just that Mengyao threw herself into training like an eager little puppy—burning through energy faster than anyone else.

Either way, her share of food today was nearly the size of both their portions combined. And yet… she never gained an ounce.

Ningyue never complained, though.

To her, Mengyao was adorable and worked so hard—what harm was there in letting her eat a little more?

Still, food supplies were tight. Ye Ping’an had stayed by the protagonist’s side too long and only got back after nightfall.

The forest wasn’t exactly safe at night, so he hadn’t dared venture out for more supplies.

Which meant… they were running low.

Ningyue, seeing her young master still hungry, gave him her own share without hesitation.

Somewhere in her mind, she wondered if this made her a thoughtful wife in the making.

But Ye Ping’an refused—how could he let his future Dao partner go hungry?

What if… certain “advantages” of hers started to shrink?

And so, the two of them had been locked in a polite tug-of-war over food—until little Mengyao came barreling in and collapsed into Ye Ping’an’s arms, blurting out those completely out-of-context words.

They froze.

Only after patiently talking things out did the truth finally come to light.

The real problem? Mengyao didn’t realize that the light barrier blocking the cave also blocked sound.
She thought it only blocked sight.

Which meant no matter how many times she’d called, they never would have heard her.

They hadn’t woken her up because they were worried about qi deviation—interrupting a cultivation cycle could be dangerous.

As for her worries about eating too much?

Ridiculous.

Sure, Xuanxing Sect wasn’t some top-tier powerhouse, but it could still afford to feed its disciples.
This was all just Mengyao overthinking things.

At last, the misunderstanding cleared, a smile bloomed once more on little Mengyao’s face.

Still, as she sat down to eat the meal they’d saved her, something shifted.

Halfway through, she paused.

Then, with visible hesitation, she handed the rest of her food to them and said, “I’m full. I’ll go back to cultivating now,” before slipping away.