Chapter 325: Marry Me!
"They can sit next to me on a couch; they can offer me tonics, but they are never going to get what they want."
She let go of one of his lapels, reaching out to gently tap her index finger against the center of his chest, right over his heart.
"Because my kitchen," Ji’an murmured, a soft, warm, slightly flushed smile touching her lips, "only has one designated vegetable-chopper. And he is currently standing right in front of me, having an unnecessary existential crisis."
Wangchen stared down at her.
The corrosive poison of his jealousy dissolved.
The blinding light of her reassurance obliterated the weight pressing down on his soul.
She was telling him, in her own roundabout, chef-coded way, that the others meant nothing.
That his place by her side was undisputed.
That the throne belonged exclusively to him.
An exhale tore from Wangchen’s lips.
The tension drained from his broad shoulders, leaving him feeling light.
He didn’t pull her into an embrace; they were still in a room full of busy array masters, but he reached down, his large, pale hands covering hers where she still held his lapel.
His long fingers intertwined with hers, his thumbs resting against the callouses on her palms.
"You are my absolute salvation, Ji’an," Wangchen whispered, his ruby eyes glowing with a dark, beautiful, unbreakable promise. "I will be your vegetable-chopper until the stars burn out and the oceans freeze."
"Good," Ji’an smiled, her cheeks burning, unable to look away from his gaze. "Because the onions aren’t going to dice themselves."
She slowly untangled her hands from his, though she immediately missed the warmth.
She turned her attention to the silk-wrapped bento box resting on the jade table.
"Now," Ji’an asked, attempting to steer the conversation back to safer, culinary territory, "tell me you brought actual food, and not just another excuse to stare at me. I have been running on black espresso and spite for eighteen hours."
Wangchen’s smile returned, bright and smug.
He reached out, untying the blue silk wrapping, opening the intricately carved wooden tiers of the bento box.
"I utilized the techniques you taught me during the winter solstice," Wangchen presented his work.
Inside the box were perfectly arranged, meticulously crafted portions of high-grade spiritual cuisine.
There was a delicate, translucent slice of jade-radish steeped in sweet soy.
There were perfectly rolled, fluffy spirit-egg omelets.
And in the center, resting on a bed of steaming white rice, were thick, glistening slices of braised pork belly, caramelized to absolute perfection.
Ji’an stared at the food.
Her jaw slowly dropped.
"Wangchen," Ji’an breathed, awestruck by the perfect coloration of the glaze. She looked up at him, her pride swelling. "Did... did you actually cook this? Without freezing the wok?"
"I maintained strict thermal control over the fire array," Wangchen confirmed, his ruby eyes shining with quiet pride, waiting for his master’s assessment. "It is my first attempt at the braised pork without your direct supervision. I apologize if the flavor profile is lacking."
Ji’an didn’t grab chopsticks.
She used her fingers to pick up a piece of the warm pork belly and pop it into her mouth.
She chewed.
It was perfect.
The fat rendered on her tongue, the soy glaze was perfectly balanced, and the meat carried a gentle, soothing, incredibly warm current of Qi that completely erased the eighteen hours of exhaustion from her bones.
It was a meal cooked with painstaking, terrifyingly focused devotion.
She swallowed, closing her eyes and letting out a long, dramatic groan of ecstasy.
"Marry me, Wangchen!" Ji’an blurted out, completely by accident, her exhausted, food-obsessed brain bypassing every single one of her mental filters.
The Grand Astrolabe Chamber went dead silent.
Ji’an’s eyes snapped open.
’DID I JUST SAY THAT OUT LOUD?!’ her internal monologue screamed, launching itself directly into the sun.
She stared at Wangchen.
The Ice Demon was standing completely still.
His ruby eyes were so wide they threatened to swallow his face.
His lips were slightly parted.
The tips of his ears were burning a brilliant, vibrant shade of scarlet.
He looked as though he had been struck by a thunderbolt.
"I MEAN—!" Ji’an panicked, wildly waving her hands, her face turning the color of her Szechuan Red robes, frantically trying to backpedal so fast she practically broke the sound barrier. "I MEAN YOUR COOKING! YOUR COOKING IS MARRIAGE MATERIAL! IT’S A KITCHEN COMPLIMENT! A METAPHOR! DO NOT TAKE THAT LITERALLY!"
Wangchen didn’t blink.
He took a slow, deliberate half-step forward.
The blush on his ears remained, but his smile was suddenly incredibly dark and victorious.
"I accept your proposal, Brother Ji’an," Wangchen whispered smoothly, ignoring her frantic backpedaling, locking the statement into the ledger of his soul.
"IT WAS A JOKE! I AM A BOY! WE ARE BROS!" Ji’an shrieked, grabbing the bento box, turning around, and literally sprinting out the heavy brass doors into the corridor, fleeing the scene of her own blunder.
"I shall begin preparing the dowry!" Wangchen called after her, his rich, melodic laugh echoing down the hallway, unbothered by her denial.
As Ji’an sprinted through the dark corridors of the sect, clutching the bento box to her chest, her face burning with humiliation, the first rays of dawn began to break over the peaks.
The night of crunch-time was over.
The gates of the Illusory Shattered Realm were opening.
The battle royale was here.
But as Ji’an chewed another piece of the perfectly braised pork, she couldn’t help but smile through her panic.
She was walking into a death-match populated by feral beasts, sociopathic princes, and a highly motivated father-in-law.
But she wasn’t walking in alone.
The Glacier had her back; he knew how to cook, and the rest of the server was doomed.
***
The unbreakable rule of multiplayer survival games was simple: Never trust the matchmaking algorithm.
When the grand, heaven-piercing golden arrays of the Celestial Sword Sect had activated at the crack of dawn, three thousand cultivators had been simultaneously digitized into streams of pure spiritual light.
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