A week passed in Pine Valley Canyon, as quiet and peaceful as ever. Chen Yu spent his days tending to his tea garden, sewing a new linen robe for himself, carving a new wooden bowl, and brewing tea for the occasional townsperson who made the trip out to the canyon edge. Xiao Mao spent her days curling up on his lap, chasing butterflies, and making sure the mountain rabbits stayed far away from the tea leaves — a task she accomplished with a single glare that made even the boldest rabbits run for cover.
Liu Feng and Zhang Wei had kept their promise — they'd come back to visit, but they'd arrived before dawn, tiptoeing up the dirt path so they wouldn't disturb Chen Yu's sleep. They'd brought a small gift: a bag of fresh rice from the Sacred Cloud Sect's spiritual farms. Chen Yu had been delighted, and had made them rice porridge with pickled vegetables and fresh tea — a meal the young disciples had written about in their notebooks until their hands cramped, calling it "the Porridge of Enlightenment that refines both body and soul."
They'd guarded their secret like it was a sacred treasure. Not a word to anyone in the sect, not a hint to any other cultivator. Their unspoken vow: the master had chosen to hide in plain sight to enjoy ordinary life, and they would lay down their lives to protect that peace.
It was a foggy morning when she arrived — the kind of mist that made the canyon feel like it was floating between heaven and earth.
Chen Yu was sitting on the porch, stirring a pot of tea with a wooden spoon he'd carved himself, when he saw her through the white haze. A woman in a simple blue robe that flowed like water, with long black hair tied back with a silver pin shaped like a moon. She walked with a grace that made her seem to glide over the dirt path — clearly a cultivator, Chen Yu thought, though he didn't know from which sect.
Xiao Mao, who'd been sleeping on his lap, lifted her head and opened her green eyes. She stared at the woman for a long moment, then let out a soft meow that sounded almost like a greeting — and curled up again. Chen Yu took that as a sign she approved.
The woman reached the porch and stopped, her eyes sweeping over the tea house, the stream, the tea garden. For a split second, her face flickered — a flash of shock when she saw Xiao Mao, then awe when her gaze fell on the teapot. But in the next breath, she schooled her features into a calm, gentle smile that didn't reach her wide eyes.
"Good morning," she said, her voice soft as the mist. "I'm sorry to intrude — I was wandering the mountains and saw your tea house. Would you mind if I bought a cup? I've been walking for hours, and the mist has left me thirsty."
Chen Yu stood up, smiling back. "Intrude? Not at all! Please, sit. I just brewed a fresh pot of rain tea — I collected the rainwater myself last week, when the storm came through. It's lighter than cloud mist tea, but I think it has a cleaner taste. Though I'll admit, I almost missed collecting it — I slept in that morning."
He pulled out a fifth clay cup — one he'd painted just days ago, with calligraphy that read "mist and rain" — and filled it with pale green tea. As he set it down, the woman took a deep breath — and nearly choked on the wave of pure qi that washed over her.
Rain tea collected from a storm that fell on a divine spiritual land, she thought, her mind racing. And he says he almost missed it because he slept in? That's not a mistake — that's a lesson! He's teaching me that enlightenment comes when you're not actively seeking it — that the best treasures find you when you're relaxed and at peace!
She took a small sip of tea, and her eyes widened so far they almost popped out of her head. Her cultivation base — already at Core Formation — thrummed with energy, refining itself faster than it would during a month of meditation in the Moonwater Sect's sacred cave.
This isn't tea, she realized. This is the Dao of Water condensed into liquid form! He's not just brewing tea — he's infusing it with the very essence of heaven and earth! And he acts like it's just something he whips up in the morning!
"My name is Su Yue," she said, her voice slightly shaky. "I'm from the Moonwater Sect — I travel the mountains looking for… insights into the Dao."
Chen Yu nodded, sitting down beside her. "That sounds nice. I don't know much about the Dao, but I know that being out here in the canyon makes me feel calm. Like everything is exactly where it's supposed to be."
Su Yue's eyes went wide again. "Everything is exactly where it's supposed to be," she thought, mentally writing the words in her heart. That's the ultimate truth of the Dao! He's merged with the natural order so completely that he doesn't need to seek insights — he is the insight!
Her gaze drifted to the wooden spoon in Chen Yu's hand. It looked ordinary, but as he stirred his tea, she saw that the grain of the wood was arranged in a pattern that matched the constellations in the night sky. A Starwood Spoon, she realized. A legendary artifact that guides the flow of qi and brings good fortune. And he carved it himself to stir tea.
Just then, they heard footsteps on the dirt path. Liu Feng and Zhang Wei walked up through the mist, carrying a bag of fresh vegetables. When they saw Su Yue, they froze — they'd heard of the Moonwater Wanderer, a Core Formation cultivator known for her sharp eye and unyielding pursuit of the Dao. But they quickly recovered, smiling and nodding at her in silence — a silent warning to keep the secret.
"Good morning, Master Chen!" Liu Feng said, his voice gentle as a breeze. "We brought some fresh vegetables — Old Madam Li said you like the bitter melon from her garden. She said it's extra bitter this year."
Chen Yu's face lit up. "Bitter melon! Perfect! I was going to make soup for lunch. You know, I used to hate bitter melon — thought it was too sharp, too harsh. But now I like it. It reminds me that not everything good in life is sweet."
He took the bag and walked inside to start preparing the soup, leaving the three cultivators on the porch. Xiao Mao followed him in, but not before giving Su Yue another soft meow — a sound that made Su Yue's knees go weak when she felt the faint, terrifying pressure of Soul Transformation realm power behind it.
The moment Chen Yu was inside, Su Yue leaned over to Liu Feng and Zhang Wei, her voice so low it was barely a whisper. "He's… he's beyond anything I've ever imagined," she hissed. "That cat is a Soul Transformation demon tiger. That teapot is the lost Divine Refining Teapot. And did you hear what he said about the bitter melon?"
Zhang Wei nodded vigorously, his eyes shining with reverence. "Not everything good in life is sweet," he whispered back. "We think it's a lesson about the Dao — that the path to enlightenment is often bitter and difficult, but the reward is worth it. We wrote a whole chapter about it in our notebooks."
Su Yue stared at him, then at the tea house door. A whole chapter? she thought. And here I am, just now realizing that a simple comment about bitter melon is a profound Daoist teaching that could change the course of my cultivation.
Inside, Chen Yu was chopping the bitter melon, humming softly to himself. He'd cut it into thin slices, arranging them on a plate in a pattern that looked like flower petals — just because it looked nice. Through the window, Su Yue saw him and gasped.
The Pattern of Blooming Bitterness, she thought, her heart racing. A legendary Daoist formation that breaks through cultivation bottlenecks! He's arranging bitter melon into a formation that sects would kill for — and he's doing it just to make his soup look pretty!
Liu Feng saw her reaction and smiled. "We know," he whispered. "He does things like that all the time. Last week, he was mending his robe and stitched it in a pattern that's actually the Dao of Protection. We both felt our defensive qi strengthen just from watching him."
Su Yue sat back, her mind reeling. Every single thing Chen Yu did — brewing tea, chopping vegetables, carving spoons, even sleeping in — was a profound lesson. Every single thing he owned was a legendary treasure. And he had no idea. He truly thought he was just a mortal, living a slow, ordinary life.
Just then, Chen Yu walked back out with a pot of soup simmering on a wooden tray, followed by Xiao Mao who was carrying a plate of rice cakes in her mouth (a trick Chen Yu had taught her just for fun).
"Soups ready!" he said, setting the tray down. "I added some of the rain tea to the broth to lighten the bitterness. Would you all like to stay? I have plenty, and Xiao Mao loves having people to show off for."
Xiao Mao dropped the plate of rice cakes on the table, then jumped onto Su Yue's lap and curled up — a gesture that made Su Yue nearly faint from a mix of fear and awe. The demon tiger has chosen to bless me with her presence, she thought. This is the greatest honor of my life.
Liu Feng and Zhang Wei nodded eagerly, but they sat quietly, not wanting to talk too much and disturb the master's peace. Su Yue sat frozen for a moment, then slowly reached out and scratched Xiao Mao behind the ears — her hand shaking slightly.
As Chen Yu poured the soup, Su Yue looked at him — at his calm face, his simple robes, his happy smile. He was so ordinary, and yet so extraordinary. She'd traveled the mountains for years seeking insights into the Dao, and here she was, finding more in a single morning with a tea house owner than she had in all her years of cultivation.
I'm not leaving, she thought, making a silent decision. I'll find a place to stay in the town, or maybe camp in the canyon. I'll visit often, but I'll never bother him. I'll just watch, and learn, and be grateful for the chance to witness a true god living as a mortal.
Inside, Chen Yu was just happy to have guests. He looked out at the mist lifting from the canyon, at the steam rising from the soup, at his cat curled up on a stranger's lap. Life was slow, quiet, and full of small joys.
Perfect, he thought. Just perfect.