Lu Haoran placed the mysterious egg carefully on a flat stone, though "carefully" might have been the wrong word because his hands were shaking. The egg pulsed faintly, like something inside was breathing slow, steady breaths.
Bai Ruolan knelt beside him, her brows drawn. "Master, it feels… old. Like something that shouldn't be in this realm."
Zhang Iron-Eater leaned over her shoulder. "Can we boil it?"
"No we cannot boil it," Haoran snapped, dragging the egg away from him. "Stop trying to eat everything."
"I wasn't going to eat the whole thing," Zhang muttered. "Just the shell maybe."
Ruolan gave him a look somewhere between pity and fear.
The System chimed in, sounding almost smug.
[Host, this is the Guardian Beast Egg reward. Though I must say, the fact that you are trembling is entirely reasonable.]
"I'm not trembling," Haoran said, trembling slightly.
[You are absolutely trembling.]
Haoran ignored it and focused on the egg again. The shell was dark gray but shimmered with faint streaks of silver, almost like cracks of light trapped underneath. Every time the glow pulsed, the air hummed.
"System," Haoran said, "what species is this? At least tell me that."
[No.]
"No? Why no?"
[Because information reveals itself when appropriate.]
"That is the most useless answer you've given today."
[Give me time. I can do worse.]
Haoran shut his mouth before his blood pressure climbed any higher.
Ruolan touched the egg again, more gently this time. "Master… I don't think this comes from the Lower Dust Realm. The qi inside feels too… pure."
"That is correct," the System replied. "But unnecessary information for now."
Zhang sat cross-legged, staring at the egg with a disturbingly hungry expression. "If it hatches into something edible, can I have first bite?"
Haoran nearly dropped the egg. "Zhang, I swear—"
Ruolan stepped between Zhang and the egg, her expression firm. "If you try to eat the guardian beast, I will punch you into next year."
Zhang slowly put his hands up. "I was only asking."
Haoran let out a breath. "Alright. Since the sect is still standing and we haven't blown anything up today, let's keep the egg somewhere safe."
He chose the least dangerous place he could think of: a small alcove behind a collapsed pillar.
Ruolan frowned. "Shouldn't we put it inside a protected chamber?"
"We don't have any chambers," Haoran said. "We barely have a roof."
The System chimed.
[A chamber can be built once you complete the next mission. Which, by the way, is now available.]
Haoran groaned. "Let me guess. More cleaning?"
[No. Something much worse.]
He winced. "Worse?"
[A sect cannot exist without food, Host.]
Haoran blinked. "Food? Really? That's the mission?"
[Yes. You must cook a meal.]
Ruolan brightened slightly. "Master, do you know how to cook?"
Zhang perked up. "What are we eating? Please no vegetables."
Haoran hesitated. He cleared his throat. "Well… I can cook. Probably."
The System's tone was flat.
[Host. Your Earth cooking knowledge does not apply here. The last time you attempted boiling water, you nearly set the pot on fire.]
"That happened one time," Haoran muttered.
[Yes. Once was enough.]
Haoran stood. "Fine. I'll cook. How hard can it be?"
It was much harder than he expected.
The moment he lit the fire, the pot rattled. When he added a handful of herbs (he wasn't even sure they were herbs), the mixture turned purple and let out a sharp hiss.
Ruolan covered her mouth. "Master… I think the soup is angry."
"It's not angry," Haoran said, stirring cautiously. "It's just… expressive."
The soup hissed louder.
Zhang leaned in. "If it grows legs, can I eat it?"
"Stop asking that."
The System chimed in.
[Host, I must say… you have created something that legally qualifies as a biological hazard.]
Haoran tapped the spoon against the pot. "It's fine. Just trust me."
The pot exploded.
Not violently, but enough to cover the courtyard in purple foam. Ruolan's hair sparkled. Zhang looked thrilled. Haoran was drenched.
The System sighed.
[Mission complete by technicality. Nutritional value remains… questionable.]
Haoran wiped his face. "Technicality? What technicality?"
[The soup fed the soil. The soil fed the plants. The plants count as food. Thus: success.]
"That isn't how logic works—"
[Host, this is a cultivation world. Logic is optional.]
Ruolan handed him a cloth and tried not to smile. "At least nothing died?"
Haoran glanced around.
The murderous chicken was purple now. And very angry.
Zhang pointed. "Master… should we run?"
Haoran didn't answer.
He was already running.