It’s quite reasonable to think about it; the four people who went to the West to obtain Buddhist scriptures were just like that. When the master faked his death, the three disciples scattered, no longer united...
…That phrase seems to be misused.
Forget it.
Yusheng asked the system for "Journey to the West" but was denied. Neither the book version nor the TV series could be provided.
He already felt he had let down his systom he couldn't let down the protagonists any further.
And Yusheng thought the system had a huge misunderstanding about him; it was pointless to say more. He could only prove himself through actions.
For example, by being nicer to his disciples, he would work hard to make the relationship among the three of them more harmonious.
The dining table was a great opportunity; during the meal and drinks, their relationships would naturally draw closer.
When preparing the food, Yusheng didn’t dare let anyone else help. From his past experiences, he knew how harmonious the people at the dining table could be; the kitchen was often filled with smoke and fire.
He had already imagined the scene: Wen Jiu would chop the scallions into segments because they’d be picked out easily if not eaten, while Zhan Xiaotian would chop them finely because it aligned with his obsessive aesthetic, making the aroma even stronger. Thus, the two would start a food fight over the scallions.
After the fight, Yin Wangzhi, who valued his pride, wouldn’t want to admit he couldn’t chop vegetables, so he would coldly wash dishes and vegetables on the side. Eventually, he might accidentally freeze the ingredients due to his heavy yin energy, leading Zhan Xiaotian to scold him for wasting food, which would start another fight...
It was better to do it himself.
After a morning of fuss, Yusheng set up a square table, serving the dishes and drinks he prepared. Half of the food was from the human world, while the rest was from the ghost realm—yang food and special ingredients beneficial to spiritual beings.
The only thing everyone could drink was the alcohol.
Thus, to promote harmony among his disciples, Yusheng prepared a large quantity of alcoholic drinks. Soon, the table was filled, and Zhan Xiaotian insisted on walking over by himself, arriving at the dining table.
Yusheng said, “Sit down.”
Zhan Xiaotian quickly took a seat on Yusheng's left side.
Wen Jiu naturally sat on his right side.
As for Yin Wangzhi, who didn’t want to miss the opportunity to eat but felt it was too silly to join in: “…”
Yusheng looked up at the always gloomy ghost king, “Why don’t you sit? We’re all family; there’s no need to be reserved.”
Yin Wangzhi said nothing and sat down across from Yusheng. He picked up a wine jug and prepared to pour wine.
As a ghost king, he wasn’t too interested in the yang food; the alcohol was a different story.
Yusheng’s eyes lit up—what a good opportunity. He stood up, waiting for Yin Wangzhi to fill a cup, then swiftly took it and placed it in front of Wen Jiu.
Wen Jiu was taken aback, staring at Yusheng in silence.
Yusheng whispered to Zhan Xiaotian, nudging him, “Aren’t you going to thank the ghost king?”
Yin Wangzhi: “…”
Wen Jiu looked a bit uncomfortable, as if experiencing something surreal. “...Thank…you?”
Never mind. Yin Wangzhi paused his hand holding the jug and poured another cup.
Just as he reached for it, Zhan Xiaotian quickly snatched it away.
Then he grinned at him mischievously, “Thanks to the ghost king.”
Yin Wangzhi's aura suddenly turned icy. Just as he was about to get angry and throw something, he met Yusheng’s gaze, which was filled with encouragement and satisfaction, and he swallowed his anger.
‘Crack’, a fine crack appeared on the wine jug, with drops of wine spilling out. Reluctantly, Yin Wangzhi poured out two more cups and emptied the rest into his own large bowl.
He raised one of the cups, looking at Yusheng, “You also drink this strong wine?”
Yusheng nodded, thinking that wine was an excellent means to dissolve conflicts, and it could help people speak their hearts more easily. He would definitely drink; today’s goal was to get them all drunk.
As they took the cups, both stood up, reaching across the table until their fingertips touched over the wine cup, which was filled to the brim, gently swaying.
As Yusheng squeezed the cup, he realized Yin Wangzhi had forgotten to let go. When he raised his head to look at him, a couple of drops spilled over the edge, moistening the pale fingertips of the ghost king.
Not wanting to get wet, Yin Wangzhi lightly rubbed his fingers, and the cool, damp sensation transferred to Yusheng’s hand before he finally released his grip, as if nothing had happened.
To avoid spilling more, Yusheng firmly held the wine cup with both hands, and before he sat down, he lifted it to his lips and drank half of it. After putting it down, he unconsciously licked his fingers, a habit from when he used to eat snacks and lick off the crumbs from his fingertips.
Yin Wangzhi chuckled silently, his expression softening as he raised the cup in his hand and downed it. “Good wine.”
With a ‘bang’, Zhan Xiaotian slammed his empty cup on the table, causing the bowls and plates to jump slightly.
Yusheng blinked, and following his principle of caring for his disciples, he picked up a big piece of meat for Zhan Xiaotian, filling his small bowl to the brim, “Here, eat more. You need nutrition with your injuries.”
Zhan Xiaotian pouted, looking at the piece of fish meat, and sighed, “Every time I see braised fish, I think of when my master was around. I was still young then and didn’t know how to pick out the bones, so my master would always remove the bones for me and feed me, saving the best parts, like the fish belly and the fish eyes, for me… Since then, I haven’t eaten fish again.”
Yin Wangzhi, sitting next to him, didn’t even touch his chopsticks and coldly said, “Immature.”
Yusheng replied, “Silly child, this is fish fillet; there are no bones. I removed them before cooking, so you can eat without worry.”
Thinking that love should be impartial, he quickly served a large piece of food to Wen Jiu and also gave Yin Wangzhi some ghost-compatible food.
Yin Wangzhi was about to continue with his sarcastic remarks when he was silenced, his expression slightly stiff. He turned his head away and stopped talking.
Seeing that he and Wen Jiu weren’t saying much—one just drinking and the other just eating—Yusheng cleared his throat lightly and found various reasons to toast with them. As for Zhan Xiaotian, he had been ordered not to drink too much due to his injuries.
Yusheng thought for a moment; it was quite pitiful not to have anything to drink, so he stood up to find some juice or soy milk in the kitchen. If he couldn’t find anything, he’d just exchange for some points.
As he left the room, just as the door closed, a barrier suddenly sprang up, isolating all sounds. The three figures either slammed the table or drew their swords, questioning each other in a chaotic scene.
Yusheng walked a few steps but suddenly remembered something, turned back, and pushed open the door.
The three disciples sat obediently at the table, maintaining straight postures, all looking towards Yusheng at the door.
Yusheng asked, “What happened to the cracked wine jug? Can I throw it away?”
Wen Jiu smiled and pointed to the corner of the wall.
Yusheng walked over and touched it. With a crash, the wine jug shattered completely, leaving a mess of porcelain shards on the ground.
Yusheng: …
“Eh? Why did it suddenly break so thoroughly?”
Yin Wangzhi sneered, “Do you even need to ask? Of course, it’s because I…”
Wen Jiu interjected, “It accidentally broke when it froze after being exposed to the cold, and then…”
Zhan Xiaotian looked innocent, “Then I thought to restore it, so I tried to thaw it with some heat.”
The combination of cold and heat indeed easily ruined something that wasn’t very sturdy.
Yusheng: “...Oh.”
He casually cleaned it up with a spell and stepped back outside.
While fetching the drinks, he flipped open a novel in his mind, reviewing some techniques for opening up his disciples’ hearts through relevant plot points.
Eating together? Check.
Drinking together? Check.
Gifting to the disciples? It seemed there was… something like that at the start.
Comforting the disciples during nightmares or inner demons?
Hmm, this is feasible; it has the highest potential, and it hasn’t been tried yet!
After all, up until now, Yusheng still hadn’t figured out the root of their conflicts. With the influence of alcohol, chatting about their inner thoughts could lead to opportunities. If things didn’t go well and a conflict arose, or if it escalated into a dangerous situation, that would also be a chance for him!
That settled it; getting Zhan Xiaotian drunk today was unlikely. Wen Jiu didn’t seem to have much of a problem, so he could start with the ghost king, Yin Wangzhi, since he had the most aggressive temperament.
Then he thought about what else could heal the disciples’ hearts—
Keeping warm together? Yes, the harsh external environment softens the heart, making one more emotional—very reasonable.
Spending the night together? Not bad; the night makes it easier to reveal inner secrets.
Soaking in hot springs and helping each other wash backs? Wow, that seems like parent-child interaction… that’s pretty good, but he wasn’t sure whether it would be better before or after revealing identities.
Further on, it seemed to become more challenging. For example, one disciple being poisoned and the others helping to detoxify, or one being framed and the others standing up for them—these weren’t situations that could be deliberately created, so Yusheng didn’t delve further.
After planning out his ideas, Yusheng closed the book and stopped looking. He exchanged points for some soy milk and headed back.
Suddenly, the system appeared, asking in a strange tone: “...Why doesn’t the host continue reading?”
Yusheng replied, “No rush. I can guess the general developments in the later parts; it’s all clichés. Plus, the ending clearly states it’s a happy reunion, so it’s definitely fine.”
System: “Oh, as long as you know.”
This time, the system's arrival was sudden, and so was its busyness. Yusheng didn’t have time to ask what was going on before he returned to the room. Pushing the door open, he found the three of them still sitting upright, and the food and wine on the table were exactly as he had left them, as if they hadn’t touched anything.
Feeling a bit embarrassed under the watchful eyes of such good disciples, Yusheng asked, “You wouldn’t have been waiting in this position without touching any food, just for me to come back, would you?”
That would be way too respectful… How obedient.
Although he still hadn’t revealed his identity.
Yin Wangzhi said nothing, Zhan Xiaotian only awkwardly laughed twice, while Wen Jiu stepped in to ease the situation, calmly admitting, “You are a senior, so of course, it’s only right for us to wait for you.”
Yusheng sat back down, pouring Zhan Xiaotian a cup of hot soy milk, then paused.
Yusheng: “Eh? Wen Gongzi, how did your sleeve get torn?”
Wen Jiu: “A rabbit bit it.”
Yusheng: “Oh… Zhan Gongzi, how come there’s a strand of your hair on the ground?”
Zhan Xiaotian: “…”
Wen Jiu: “He was joking around with the rabbit and accidentally pulled some out.”
Yusheng nodded: “Then… Yin… King of Ghosts, why is the wine cup also cracked? Wait, another wine jug broke?”
Wen Jiu: “That’s because…”
“There's no reason.” Yin Wangzhi shot a glance that silenced Wen Jiu, then looked directly at Yusheng, “I broke it on purpose.”
Yusheng let out a small “ah,” then nodded, “Did you drink too much? It’s fine; it wasn’t anything valuable, don’t worry about it.”
Yin Wangzhi seemed to have had enough; he directly threw the wine cup onto the table, letting it crack into two halves, “I didn’t drink too much.”
Yusheng nodded again, thinking to himself that people who were drunk always said that.
Wen Jiu frowned, “Yin Wangzhi, calm down.”
Yin Wangzhi stood up, abandoning his meal, “If you all want to play dumb and pretend like you’re playing house, then go ahead; I won’t join you!”
Yusheng was startled, then let out a sigh of relief—he had thought he would flip the table in anger.
Immediately after, he drew out his feather duster, flicking it so that the smooth, slender white threads coiled around the ghost king’s waist, firm as metal, pulling him back. The sluggishness and joking in his tone faded, replaced with a hint of seriousness, accompanied by a faint oppressive aura, “Don’t be hasty; let’s drink a few more cups before you leave.”
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