Ice Block Stops Pretending

The infiltration plan had failed, leaving Hall Master Lu of the Yin-Yang Hall and the Blood Refining Hall with no immediate alternatives.

Who could have imagined that the grand scheme of their sect would be thwarted by a few dishes?

They had no idea how to explain this upon their return, but they had no choice but to report back with stiffened resolve. Their tension stemmed from the sect's utmost importance placed on the revival of the Blood God.

Deputy Sect Leader Yuwen Cuojin had arrived in the imperial capital just the day before.

They entered a mahjong parlor and descended through a hidden door to the underground hall.

"How did it go?"

Yuwen Cuojin was slurping instant noodles when the two entered. He wiped his mouth solemnly.

"We failed."

"Hmm? Incompetence demands an explanation. You two had better give me one."

Yuwen Cuojin took a sip of the noodle broth, his gaze growing increasingly icy.

"The food at Wanchun Pavilion is like this. Try it for yourself."

Hall Master Lu unpacked the dishes prepared by Ying Bing and laid them out on the table.

"What kind of excuse is this? Tch, we’re supposed to be the demonic sect..."

Yuwen Cuojin wore a cold expression, determined to set an example of ruthlessness for his subordinates.

But when he saw the multicolored pill-dusted pork intestine popsicles and the spicy fish scales, he fell into deep contemplation.

His chopstick-holding hand trembled slightly.

"Deputy Sect Leader, why is your hand shaking?"

"Oh, the weather’s just gotten colder."

The seventh-realm deputy sect leader swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and said,

"Ying Bing’s cooking is indeed terrifying. But I’ve already had dinner, and eating more would be wasteful. I trust everyone understands the shame of wasting food."

"Since we couldn’t infiltrate Wanchun Pavilion, and the Hundred Flowers Festival is imminent, what should we do?"

Hall Master Lu looked troubled.

Li Mo had snatched away their right to host the festival, leaving them unable to deploy their forces.

Now, Ying Bing had intervened just enough to make even sneaking into Wanchun Pavilion impossible. Their plan had been flawless—who could have predicted such an absurd setback?

"In my opinion, we’re left with only two paths."

Yuwen Cuojin’s expression darkened as he declared in a low voice,

"First, we send another group of Yin-Yang Hall disciples. They must endure until the day of the Hundred Flowers Festival—no matter what. These individuals must be unwavering, fearless. Any volunteers?"

His voice echoed through the empty hall.

Yet, as everyone stared at the dishes on the table, the demonic sect members exchanged glances. Not a single person dared to step forward.

"The second path is to burn our bridges and gamble everything! Abandon infiltration and launch a full-frontal assault on the day of the festival!"

"Good! Let’s fight those imperial dogs to the death!"

"Today, our demonic sect shall reshape the heavens and earth!"

"Count me in!"

A chorus of bloodthirsty voices rose in enthusiastic response.

......

Meanwhile.

The ice block—Ying Bing—seemed intent on making a late-night snack, silently gathering pots and pans. Li Mo, the chef, felt his scalp prickle and quickly grabbed her hand.

"Let’s make some potato chips instead. We can watch cartoons while eating."

Li Mo spoke with utmost seriousness.

"Potato chips? I don’t know how..."

"Big sister, I’ll teach you step by step."

With that, Li Mo wrapped his arms around her from behind, guiding her slender hands as they sliced unpeeled potatoes.

Young Li was very focused.

His arms encircled her cool, soft frame, his left hand resting on her waist, his chin brushing against the strands of hair at her neck, inhaling her orchid-like fragrance.

The night was deep, and the kitchen was silent save for the sound of chopping and bubbling oil.

Ying Bing’s fingertips curled slightly, ticklish from his breath, her whole body tingling.

"Like this... is it right?"

She distracted herself with the frying.

"Mhm. You don’t have to start with complicated dishes. Begin with simple ones. Any cartoons you want to watch tonight?"

"How about Castle in the Sky?"

Ying Bing was usually meticulous in everything she did.

But right now, she couldn’t focus at all.

Still, her relaxed posture betrayed her quiet enjoyment of the moment.

"Hmm? The salt I sprinkled seems off..."

"Li Mo, that’s sugar."

"Tsk..."

The chef inhaled sharply—along with Ying Bing’s scent.

With his experience, distinguishing sugar from salt shouldn’t require tasting. So how had he messed up?

Was her dark culinary aura so terrifying that even hands-on guidance failed?

"Sweet ones are edible too..."

"Are potato chips considered simple?"

"They are. But next time, let’s start with instant noodles."

After scooping out the chips, Li Mo led Ying Bing back to the room by the hand, then entered his pocket dimension.

The clouds above formed a screen, projecting the animated film.

Ying Bing stood to call for Li Mo but froze when she turned and saw a different version of him.

"Not bad at all."

Li Mo examined himself, relieved that his biggest concern wasn’t an issue.

Putting aside everything else.

First, the divine armor suited him perfectly. After absorbing the power of the masses, it radiated iridescent clouds, glowing brilliantly.

Once satisfied, he noticed Ying Bing wasn’t watching the film—she was stealing glances at him, her usually cool gaze slightly dazed.

"How do I look? Fitting?"

"Fitting for what?"

Her gaze snapped back as if she hadn’t been looking at all.

Well, not entirely. Her shimmering eyes reflected the film’s light, luminous and dreamy.

"This armor isn’t just for show—it’s incredibly powerful."

Li Mo smiled as the accumulated power of the masses from the Empty Myriad Colors Tower flowed into the armor.

His own divine will alone couldn’t activate its full potential; only the collective energy could.

Instantly, clouds surged beneath the Lotus-Step Silken Boots.

The once-ordinary somersault cloud transformed into an auspicious cloud, brimming with profound mystery.

Standing atop the rising mist, Li Mo felt he could now transport others with him.

Then, a peculiar ripple emanated from the Phoenix-Winged Purple Gold Crown, spreading like an invisible domain.

The Golden Chainmail shimmered as Li Mo activated his Heaven-Spanning Physique, his body swelling fivefold, raw power coursing through him.

"So strong! And this isn’t even complete—it’s still missing the final piece."

Li Mo raised his head slowly, eyes burning with fervor, his chest swelling with the ambition to ascend the heavens.

In that moment, he resembled a celestial deity.

But he didn’t attempt to draw the Compliant Golden-Hooped Rod. It wasn’t the time, and he likely couldn’t yet.

"See it now?" Li Mo arched a brow, flashing Ying Bing a bright grin.

"I see."

Ying Bing’s face remained impassive, but her eyes softened.

"Like it?"

"I do."

The ice block dropped all pretense, openly staring, committing the sight to memory.