MRSG Chapter 14

Can Tian Qi really ‘briefly’ say a few words?

…Just look at his WeChat messages—each voice message is sixty seconds long!

Once the little team leader started talking, he got carried away, speaking non-stop: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven points—reviewing the past and looking toward the future. Yet, he never strayed from the topic, which showed his skill.

Zhou Mu kept his head down, holding back for ten minutes. Tian Qi was still going strong. It seemed like he wouldn’t stop for at least another half an hour. Zhou Mu genuinely wanted to show respect to the team leader, but he was really worried the food would get cold. He tugged at You Qi’s sleeve.

You Qi looked at him. “Hmm?”

Zhou Mu weakly said, “Help.”

What to do? The team leader was also the event organizer. How could anyone stop him? And who at the scene would dare to?

You Qi pondered for a moment, then got up and whispered something to a guest before returning to his seat.

Zhou Mu asked, “Who was that?”

You Qi calmly replied, “Tian Qi’s homeroom teacher.”

Although the teacher hadn’t supported this event initially, now that it had gained momentum with encouragement from all sides, of course, the teacher had to attend.

As soon as he finished speaking, the homeroom teacher stood up, seizing the moment between Tian Qi’s speech segments, and led the applause. His voice was full of passion, with the perfect cadence—proof that his teaching certificate wasn’t just for show. “Tian Qi, that was truly excellent! Everyone, let’s give Tian Qi a round of applause!”

Everyone clapped together. After all, no one liked long speeches… or maybe they just didn’t have enough homework!

Tian Qi smiled sheepishly, still wanting to continue, but the teacher stepped closer. “Let me make a toast to you, Tian Qi. Would you like to introduce the dishes to everyone?”

Tian Qi hesitated. “Ah, sure, but I wanted to finish what I was saying first—”

The teacher lowered his voice and said, “That’s enough. If you talk for thirty minutes, that’s thirty-six hours wasted for the seventy-two people here. Do you know how many class periods that is?”

Tian Qi: “……”

Speechless, Tian Qi downed his milk in one gulp, wiped the milk foam from his lips, and said, “Thank you, everyone. Let’s eat!”

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause.

So, in the end, you have to fight magic with magic. Only a homeroom teacher can handle an elementary school student.

Zhou Mu was so happy that he kept tugging at You Qi’s hand. The wisdom of an older student really made a difference.

The cafeteria staff swiftly brought out the dishes, following the ancient tradition of separate servings.

The banquet was divided into several courses. The first course featured the ‘Five Raw Platter’—a cold dish made of lamb, beef, pork, deer, and bear meat, as per banquet tradition: cold appetizers before hot dishes. The first round of hot dishes included ten signature plates, such as Shengping Zhi, Biandi Jinzhuang, and Zhuzhouchun, accompanied by four desserts.

The banquet’s highlight—the ‘Grand Dish’—would come in the second-to-last round. The final round would feature palate-cleansing fruits. It was said that the grand dish included White Dragon Brilliance and Phoenix Embryo. Of course, these were just fancy names—White Dragon Brilliance referred to mandarin fish, famously described in the phrase ‘peach blossom waters bring fat mandarin fish,’ and Phoenix Embryo was actually fish milt.

Zhou Mu’s chopsticks first reached for Zhuzhouchun. This dish featured tender, boneless quail, marinated and braised in chicken broth before being fried to a golden crisp. The challenge lay in frying it just right—quail meat was easy to overcook. One bite, and the crispy skin, along with the meat, slipped right off the bone. A few more bites, and the bone itself was crispy enough to release a burst of flavorful juices. Though small in portion, the taste was so rich that it left one wanting more. When it came to game birds, pigeon and quail were always top choices, which was why this dish ranked first.

Yet, even with such tempting dishes, someone at the table wasn’t eating. Instead, they were shaking their head and mumbling, “A successful banquet depends 60% on the chef and 40% on ingredient selection! I wonder how the ingredients were sourced?”

Zhou Mu glanced at the speaker—an elderly scholar with white hair tied into a bun, secured by a bare twig. His forehead bore deep frown lines in the shape of the Chinese character 川.

The others lowered their heads, not daring to respond.

You Qi leaned over and explained to Zhou Mu, “That’s Mr. Jin, the librarian.”

Zhou Mu suddenly remembered—the very same librarian that Xu Tianyi had mentioned during training! An ancient book spirit, known for his strictness. He absolutely despised any disrespect toward books. If someone damaged a page or made noise in the library, they’d be banned from borrowing books forever.

That was no small punishment. Academic papers and assignments required references, and the Hualing Academy Library held many rare books unavailable online or in second-hand markets.

So, even outside the library, no one wanted to offend Mr. Jin. Besides, he was known for speaking in obscure classical references, making conversations difficult for younger demons.

But since this banquet was organized by Tian Qi, Zhou Mu had some insight. He quickly said, “All the ingredients were carefully selected! The beef is from four-year-old cattle, and the lamb is the freshest and most tender available.”

Hearing that Zhou Mu was knowledgeable about food, Mr. Jin’s stern expression softened, his frown easing slightly. Even the most old-fashioned scholar had his interests.

Mr. Jin leaned in and remarked, “A true connoisseur is not necessarily a chef! But I must say, the tableware lacks elegance. Wouldn’t gold-painted porcelain plates be more fitting for these four exquisite fruits? This Black Cat Detective-themed plate is hardly refined.”

“…Great vulgarity is great elegance!” Zhou Mu countered, pointing to the bowl of Milk-Stewed Fish in front of Mr. Jin. Inside, thinly sliced rose-colored ham, golden dried bamboo shoots, and dark brown mushrooms were soaked in a rich, creamy white broth—visually appealing and incredibly appetizing. “Teacher, try that. The yellow river carp is paired with rehydrated shiitake mushrooms, lean ham, and ‘Treasure Tips’—early spring bamboo shoots harvested before the first thaw.”

“Oh?” Mr. Jin raised an eyebrow. “Did they remove the fishy tendon?”

Zhou Mu nodded. “Of course! How could they not?”

Properly prepared carp had its white tendon removed to ensure a fresh, non-fishy taste.

Mr. Jin first sipped the thick, milky broth, then tasted the fish. True enough, the texture was tender and aromatic. The shiitake mushrooms, ham, and bamboo shoots enhanced the fish’s natural umami without overwhelming it. The flavors were distinct yet harmonized beautifully.

Unable to hold back, Mr. Jin tapped his chopsticks and launched into poetic praise: ‘Throughout history, all vulgarities pale before me—why must beauty be veiled in powder and rouge?

Peeling away golden scales reveals jade ribbons, weapons set aside for a sip of creamy white.

Bamboo shoots nestle like treasured peaks, a touch of rosy hues invites admiration.

Born with natural charm, it needs no Dragon Gate to leap into my embrace!’

Zhou Mu: “……”

Damn, old man, if you’re going to recite poetry about fish soup, fine, but why make it sound so… suggestive? You look all serious, yet you’re so shameless—there are elementary school kids here!

The weirdest part? Everyone else at the table just carried on eating and drinking like it was nothing. Just like that, they surrendered to the corrupt literary influence of the library? Where was their sense of justice? Their courage? The censorship board?!

Thankfully, the team leader had wandered off to toast someone with milk. Zhou Mu leaned in and whispered to You Qi, incredulous, “I thought he was supposed to be super traditional? What, just traditional when it comes to other people, not himself? What kind of ‘ancient book spirit’ is this, so completely improper—does he even qualify to manage a library?”

You Qi replied coolly, “Jin Pingmei.”

Zhou Mu: “……Oh.”

Well, that explains everything.

Mr. Jin, utterly content, took another bite and then turned to Zhou Mu. “Young friend, won’t you compose a verse with me?”

Zhou Mu pretended to be too busy stuffing his face to hear.

After making the rounds and toasting everyone with milk, Tian Qi waddled back, his small belly visibly full, and raised his cup to Zhou Mu. “Wuah, Xiao Mu, if it weren’t for you guys, this whole Burning Tail Feast wouldn’t have happened.”

Zhou Mu didn’t bother pouring a drink. He just lifted his rice bowl, clinked it against Tian Qi’s cup, and downed his porridge in one go. “No big deal. I even sent you 9GB of study materials—study hard. If you don’t understand something, you can ask me.”

Tian Qi: “…??”

The other guests, polite yet obviously enjoying themselves, chimed in: “You can ask us too, ask us too.”

Zhou Mu whispered, “Just… don’t go to Mr. Jin for essay help.”

Tian Qi, dazed, took a sip of his milk, then sighed dramatically. “Thank you, everyone.” He trudged off to another table, but before leaving, he turned back. “Senior You Qi, do you want a drink?”

You Qi shook his head. “No need.”

You Qi was only here to accompany Zhou Mu, and he’d given his share of the dishes to him. He hadn’t even touched water.

Of course, to the other guests, it just looked like Zhou Mu was the one eating the meal, and You Qi was just waiting to eat Zhou Mu. After all, no one knew what Zhou Mu’s true form was, but it was clear he could eat and still regenerate. Otherwise, after living together in the dorm for so long, surely some part of him would be missing by now. Then again, if You Qi wasn’t planning to eat Zhou Mu, why would he even room with him?

That said, having Zhou Mu at the table seemed to boost everyone’s appetite—even if they couldn’t eat him themselves, just being near him made their meals more enjoyable.

Zhou Mu snuck a glance at You Qi, hesitated for a moment, then discreetly wrapped up a small portion of food. After a second thought, he added a bit more.

……

The banquet ended, and as Zhou Mu and You Qi walked back along Jinjiang Road, Zhou Mu was feeling thoroughly satisfied.

All those dishes—it had been worth all the effort he put in.

He looked around, saw no one, then asked, “Are you really not hungry?”

“You should know better than to ask me that,” You Qi said with a half-smile. If anyone else had asked, he’d have taken it as a challenge.

He had already told Zhou Mu before—he always just took fasting pills to deal with it.

“But the banquet was really delicious,” Zhou Mu insisted. “You shouldn’t let other people’s opinions stop you from eating.” He took out a small paper-wrapped package. “Look, I saved you a little… little… little pastry.”

You Qi repeated the stammered phrase, amused. “A little… little… little pastry?”

“Don’t copy me!” Zhou Mu huffed. “I just thought when I got to this part of the meal that you really should try it. Always relying on fasting pills—sure, your stomach won’t be hungry, but doesn’t your heart feel empty?” He unwrapped the paper, revealing a pale golden Jinru Su pastry, its rich, milky aroma immediately filling the air.

Most people who knew You Qi studied herbal medicine and used fasting pills thought it was a good thing, hoping he would keep it up and become a well-disciplined, self-controlled beast. But Zhou Mu had been thinking about it and felt that there were some flavors he really shouldn’t miss out on.

You Qi leaned in to sniff. Zhou Mu thought he was smelling the pastry, so he lifted it slightly. But in reality, You Qi was getting closer to his fingers—more than the pastry, it seemed like he really wanted to lick Zhou Mu’s fingers.

“You didn’t grow up like this, did you?” Zhou Mu kept prying. “Have you ever actually eaten freely before?”

You Qi saw the sympathy in his eyes and thought back. “I remember, when I was little, playing alone in the mountains, I caught an adult lin beast by myself.”

Zhou Mu’s eyes immediately lit up. “And then? You didn’t release it, right?”

You Qi: “More like, I released my stomach—I ate it all.”

Zhou Mu burst into wicked laughter. “Hahahaha! So it was only after you enrolled that you started fasting? That’s a long time—then you definitely need to eat something now!”

He patted down You Qi’s robes. “Did you bring utensils? Did you?!”

You Qi did have a special utensil for eating, tucked inside his dimensional sleeve—not for actual use, just as a reminder. But now, as Zhou Mu eagerly reached for it, he relented, pressing Zhou Mu’s hands down before pulling out the utensil himself. Zhou Mu, already impatient, picked up a piece of the pastry and held it up to You Qi’s mouth.

The silver chopsticks slipped easily through the metal muzzle You Qi wore. He opened his mouth and took a bite—the crisp pastry broke apart, and a wave of rich, creamy sweetness spread across his tongue. His taste buds, long deprived of real food, were instantly overwhelmed, making the sensation almost unfamiliar. He flicked his tongue out, brushing against the chopsticks still in Zhou Mu’s fingers. For a brief moment, the metal seemed to warp and vanish, as if he had actually licked Zhou Mu’s fingertips.

“So sweet.” You Qi murmured.