As they walked to the food district. Xiao Wu, her earlier fury banked but still smoldering, kept a possessive arm linked through Mei's, shooting the occasional dagger-glare at Yu Tianxin.
Tang San walked on Mei's other side, his calm demeanor restored. Mei herself was the placid center of the storm, offering small, neutral comments about the familiar streets of Nuoding.
Bringing up the rear, Yu Tianxin marched with his hands clenched behind his back, his face a thundercloud of wounded pride and simmering jealousy.
Every time Xiao Wu laughed at something Mei said, he flinched as if personally insulted. Liu Xiu walked beside him, a silent figure whose thoughtful gaze kept drifting from Tang San to Xiao Wu, his mind clearly cataloging their potential.
Mei, guided by Ai's suggestions about local cuisine, led them not to a fancy inn, but to a small, bustling noodle stand tucked away in a side alley.
It was famous among academy students for its rich broth and hand-pulled noodles, a place of warmth and authenticity, but a far cry from the opulence the young master was undoubtedly accustomed to.
The proprietor, a jovial man with a flour-dusted apron, greeted Mei with a familiar nod. "Would you like the special, little miss?"
"Yes, please, Uncle," Mei said with a genuine smile. She turned to the group. "They said the braised beef noodles here are the best in the city."
They settled at a rough-hewn wooden table that was decidedly too small for five people, forcing them into uncomfortable proximity.
Yu Tianxin stared at the simple bench with suspicion before reluctantly sitting down, carefully arranging his robes as if they were made of priceless silk.
The awkward silence descended, thick and heavy. The cheerful clatter of pots and the chatter of other customers only seemed to highlight their table's quiet tension.
Xiao Wu fidgeted, clearly wanting to interrogate Mei but held back by the presence of the outsiders. Tang San studied the menu carved into a wooden plaque with intense interest.
Liu Xiu sat perfectly still, his hands folded on the table, observing the dynamics like a scientist studying a strange new ecosystem.
Yu Tianxin finally broke the silence, his voice haughty. "I trust the… hygiene… of this establishment is adequate." He picked up a pair of bamboo chopsticks from a communal holder, examining them with a critical frown.
"It's perfectly clean," Mei assured him, her tone patient. "The food is wonderful."
"Hmph." He set the chopsticks down as if they were contaminated. "In Thunder City, we have standards."
Xiao Wu rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they stayed in her head. "If you're so fancy, why don't you go eat somewhere else? The rest of us are hungry."
"Xiao Wu," Tang San said, a quiet note of warning in his voice. He then looked at Yu Tianxin.
"We appreciate you ensuring Mei's safe return." It was a diplomatic, if strained, acknowledgment.
Yu Tianxin's gaze flickered from Tang San to Mei. "It was my duty," he stated, puffing his chest out slightly. "I could not, in good conscience, leave a support-type spirit master to fend for herself." The implication that they had was clear in his tone.
Xiao Wu's chopsticks, which she had been tapping impatiently on the table, stilled. "Mei is tougher than she looks. And she has us. We protect our own."
"Clearly, your protection was not present when she needed it most," Yu Tianxin retorted, his jealousy overriding his sense.
That was a step too far. Tang San's eyes narrowed. "The circumstances were unusual. We were not informed of the commission." His voice was cold, a stark contrast to its usual calm.
"A poor excuse for abandoning a teammate."
"We are not a fixed team!" Xiao Wu shot back, her voice rising. "We're academy students! And who are you to judge? You just happened to be in the right place!"
"It was not 'happenstance,'" Yu Tianxin sneered. "It was capability. The power to intervene where others fail."
"Enough!" Mei's voice, though not loud, carried a firmness that cut through the rising heat. All eyes turned to her. She took a steadying breath.
"This is getting us nowhere. If you're all going to argue about who should have protected me, maybe you should at least know what actually happened."
The table fell silent. Even Yu Tianxin, chastened by her tone, closed his mouth. This was the opening Xiao Wu had been waiting for.
"Yes! Tell us!" Xiao Wu implored, leaning forward, her anger momentarily replaced by avid curiosity. "What happened with the sheep?"
Mei began telling them how the fifteen-hundred-year-old Jewel Hawk was the hawk they met when she was hunting her soul ring and how it might have mistaken her for food.
How the hawk took her and then dropped her in the outer part of the Star Dou Great Forest to meeting YuTianxin.
Xiao Wu let out a long breath. "Wow. You really went through all that." She looked at Yu Tianxin, her expression still critical, but now with a grudging acknowledgment. "I guess... thanks for catching her."
Yu Tianxin, disarmed by the thanks, merely gave a stiff nod, the tips of his ears turning pink again.
Tang San, ever practical, asked, "And the hawk's body? A fifteen-hundred-year spirit beast has valuable parts."
"Left it," Yu Tianxin said dismissively, as if discarding trash. "Retrieving it wasn't the priority."
The casual waste of such resources was a silent testament to his wealth and priority, a fact not lost on the frugal Tang San.
Just then, Uncle Ma arrived with a large tray, expertly balancing five steaming bowls of noodles. The rich, savory aroma of beef broth and spices filled the air, a tangible peace offering.
The distraction was timely. As the bowls were set down, the immediate focus shifted to the food.
Xiao Wu, whose anger was often soothed by her stomach, immediately picked up her chopsticks and dug in with a happy murmur.
Tang San offered a quiet "thank you" to Uncle Ma before starting his meal with neat, efficient movements.
Liu Xiu took a tentative sip of the broth, and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Excellent," he commented, the first word he'd spoken since sitting down. "A robust flavor. Very well-balanced."
Yu Tianxin, however, stared at his bowl as if it were a tactical puzzle. The noodles were long and slippery, the broth deep and dark, and there were chunks of meat and vegetables to contend with.
He picked up his chopsticks again, his movements stiff and clumsy. He tried to mimic Tang San's effortless technique, but the noodles slithered from his grasp, splashing broth onto the table.
A faint pink tinge returned to his ears. He was the Second Young Master of a great sect, a Spirit Grandmaster who could call down lightning, yet he was being bested by a bowl of noodles. This never happened at home
Mei, sitting beside him, noticed his struggle. Without a word, she picked up a ceramic spoon and a small empty dish from the center of the table and placed them gently next to his bowl.
"Sometimes it's easier to use the spoon to help guide the noodles onto the chopsticks," she suggested softly, not looking at him, allowing him to save face.
"Or you can cut the noodles with the edge of the spoon if you prefer."
Yu Tianxin glanced at her, then at the offered utensils. For a moment, his pride warred with his hunger and his desire not to look like a complete fool in front of Tang San. With a barely perceptible nod, he picked up the spoon, his movements still awkward but now functional.
The rest of the lunch proceeded in a tense, but no longer explosive, silence. The only sounds were the slurping of noodles (a sound Yu Tianxin found appallingly common) and the clinking of bowls.
It was in this lull that a new figure appeared at the entrance to the noodle stand. He was a man of middling years, with a scholarly yet somewhat weary demeanor; his robes were simple and worn at the edges.
His eyes, sharp and intelligent, scanned the small dining area before landing squarely on their table, and specifically, on Tang San.
"Tang San," the man said, his voice carrying a quiet authority that cut through the ambient noise. He began walking toward them. "I've been looking for you. I was told I might find you here."