CHAPTER 70: SKY BLOSSOM PAVILION

Tian Lei only shrugged, unbothered. "I didn’t enter the sect because of its reputation. It was... by chance, actually."

Meng Shen let out a low whistle. "By chance, he says. Meanwhile, the rest of us went through blood, sweat, and ten thousand bowls of noodles to get here."

"Ten thousand noodles?" Tian Lei frowned, confused.

Meng Shen scratched his head awkwardly. "It was a mental trial. My dream was... well, I ordered ten thousand bowls of noodles but didn’t pay for them, then ran away in the illusion."

The others burst out laughing.

"And he was pretty famous for that for months," Xiao Rou added, wiping tears from her eyes. "They even called him the Noodle Thief back then. But after he showed his strength, everyone got scared he might beat them up, so the nickname quietly died out."

Gao Fei chuckled too. "No wonder you’re always so mysterious. The rest of us fought tooth and nail for a place, but you just wandered in like you were taking a stroll."

Xiao Rou still looked baffled. "Seriously... you skipped the sect’s best tradition? Eating here is practically a rite of passage! You’ve missed out on years of flavor cultivation!"

Tian Lei raised a brow, lips quirking slightly. "Flavor cultivation?"

Meng Shen puffed up his chest with mock solemnity. "Yes! The Dao of Cuisine is as important as the Dao of the Sword. How else can you reach enlightenment when you’re hungry?"

The whole table broke into laughter, and even Tian Lei allowed himself a small chuckle as the servers began placing ornate dishes one after another across their table, the air filling with aromas rich enough to make even a cultivator’s mouth water.

The laughter was still bubbling at the table when a calm voice cut through it.

Wei Zhen, who had been quietly observing, adjusted his cup of tea and said dryly, "Dao of Cuisine or not, Meng Shen, you’ve walked further down that path than anyone I know. If overeating were a cultivation realm, you’d already be a Grandmaster."

"Oi!" Meng Shen slammed his chopsticks on the table. "That’s slander!"

The others burst out laughing again, Xiao Rou nearly choking on her tea as Gao Fei coughed to cover his grin.

Wei Zhen, unbothered, sipped his tea slowly before adding, "Then again... he’s not wrong. Food can calm the heart, sharpen the mind, even restore balance. I’d hardly call it a lesser Dao."

Tian Lei glanced at him with faint curiosity. It was the first time since sitting down that Wei Zhen had spoken at length, and his words carried a surprising weight.

"You’re saying food is cultivation too?" Xiao Rou asked, blinking.

Wei Zhen’s lips curved into the smallest of smiles. "Why not? Every meal is an alchemy of fire, water, and patience. In its own way, it’s no different from refining pills."

That made Meng Shen freeze mid-bite, dumpling still dangling from his chopsticks. "...Wait. Does that mean if I eat more, I’ll cultivate faster?"

"No," Wei Zhen replied flatly, immediately killing the hope in his eyes.

The table erupted once more in laughter. Even Tian Lei smirked into his cup, hiding it behind the rim.

Meanwhile, the servers placed down the next dish—Dragon Scale Beef, grilled until the outer layer crackled like tempered steel, yet so tender it practically melted apart. The fragrance hit them like a tidal wave.

Meng Shen inhaled so deeply it was as if he were cultivating with his nose. "Ahhh... yes, this... this is enlightenment!"

"By the ancestors...!" he gasped, mouth still full. "This... this isn’t beef. This is enlightenment served medium rare!"

Xiao Rou rolled her eyes but was already reaching for her chopsticks. "You’re exaggerating again." She took one bite—then went dead silent. Her face stiffened, almost glowing with bliss. "...Okay. Maybe you’re not exaggerating."

Gao Fei leaned back, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. "This is why it’s tradition. The first meal here knocks the arrogance out of new disciples and replaces it with humility before the Dao of Flavor."

Tian Lei, curious now, finally picked up a slice. The meat nearly dissolved on his tongue, releasing layers of spice and fire that danced like sparks in his veins. For just a second, he swore the dish contained a trace of genuine spiritual qi.

He set his chopsticks down slowly. "...Not bad."

"Not bad?!" Meng Shen nearly dropped his bowl. "Brother Tian, if you don’t at least write poetry about this beef, I will!"

Xiao Rou leaned in dramatically. "Say it—what profound revelation do you feel?"

Tian Lei blinked at the expectant faces around him. Then, with the same calm tone as always, he said, "It tastes like... beef."

The table went dead quiet.

Then Wei Zhen, ever the calm one, snorted softly into his teacup. The tiny break in his stoic facade sent everyone into hysterics, Xiao Rou smacking the table, Meng Shen nearly choking from laughter, and Gao Fei holding his stomach.

The servers arrived just in time with the next dish—Lotus Spirit Soup, steaming with fragrant herbs that shimmered faintly with spiritual light.

Meng Shen’s eyes glowed with greed. "Soup of the heavens... come to papa!"

Meng Shen all but dove for the Lotus Spirit Soup, only to yelp when Xiao Rou smacked his wrist with her chopsticks.

"Patience, glutton! This soup isn’t for you to gulp like some common porridge—it’s refined from lotus grown in spirit lakes. One sip can cleanse your marrow and calm your qi."

Meng Shen pouted but ladled himself a bowl anyway. "I can cultivate my marrow while I slurp, thank you very much."

He took a sip—then immediately froze, going cross-eyed. A faint white mist puffed from his nose like a boiling kettle.

"...Hot," he squeaked, fanning his mouth with both hands.

The whole table broke into laughter again, except Wei Zhen. He quietly lifted his bowl, blew once, and drank with elegant calm, as though he’d been born in a palace hall.

Tian Lei glanced at him, raising a brow. "Not affected at all?"

Wei Zhen set the bowl down, his expression unreadable. "I’ve trained with harsher things." Then, after a pause, he added lightly, "But I will admit, the soup is... extraordinary."

The others were still laughing at Meng Shen’s theatrics when Wei Zhen shifted his gaze back to Tian Lei. His tone stayed casual, but his eyes held a sharper edge.

"By the way, Junior Brother... you said you entered the sect ’by chance.’ That’s not something we hear often. Most disciples would fight through ten trials just to step inside the gates."

Xiao Rou, still giggling, suddenly perked up with interest. "That’s right! You’ve been dodging the question all night. How does someone just stumble into this sect?"

Even Gao Fei leaned forward, smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, Tian Lei. What rock were you hiding under all this time?"

All eyes landed on him, the table momentarily hushed, only the faint steam of the soup curling in the air.

"I met Grand Elder Haiyun on the way and... well, left an impression on him. He invited me to join the sect," Tian Lei said, tone deliberately casual, as if he were speaking about the weather.

For a heartbeat, the table went silent. Chopsticks hovered in midair. Even the bubbling soup seemed to hush.

Then—

Meng Shen slammed both palms on the table, eyes wide. "Y–You mean Grand Elder Haiyun?! The same Grand elder who took us to Secret Realm? The one who has mastered the illusive Void Dao? That Haiyun?"

Xiao Rou froze, staring at Tian Lei as though seeing him for the first time. "...Do you even understand what that means? Grand Elder Haiyun doesn’t waste time on mediocrity. If he took notice of you—no, if he invited you—then your talent must be..." She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Gao Fei, who had been grinning moments ago, felt the smile falter on his lips. His laughter died, replaced by a nervous chuckle. "...So all this time we were thinking Tian Lei was just some lucky guy. But no. He’s the kind of genius who could make the second-strongest figure in the sect move personally."

Meng Shen leaned back slowly, swallowing hard. "Second only to the Sect Master himself... ignoring the retired Ancestors. For him to lower himself and bring you in directly..." He shook his head. "Brother Tian, just what kind of monster are you hiding under that calm face?"

Xiao Rou bit her lip, her earlier irritation vanishing. Her gaze softened into something between wonder and intimidation. "If Elder Haiyun’s eyes landed on you, then... none of us are anywhere close, are we?"

Even Wei Zhen, usually unreadable, stirred his tea with steady movements before finally speaking, his voice low but firm. "The Grand Elder does not gamble. If he chose you, it is because you possess something that even we cannot imagine. Compared to you, the rest of us may still be staring at the foot of the mountain while you’ve already begun climbing to its peak."

The table fell quiet again—this time not with disbelief or humor, but with the heavy weight of realization.