RIIDMDR chapter 103

 

“The first soft chair will take a bit more time to make. If the owner likes it, I can make a few more like it,” said Yi Shui.

Nan Xu waved his hand grandly. “Do it!”

The fur was limited, so he counted on his fingers. He placed one in the small, empty living room on the second floor and two in the leisure area downstairs. As for the finished product, the owner kept it for him and Tingchuan to rest in.

With that one word from Nan Xu, several soft leather sofas appeared in the inn a few days later. The moment they were moved to their spots, Yao Lin, who had been eyeing them greedily for days, couldn’t hold himself back. When he was still two or three steps away, he leapt forward, flinging himself toward the sofa in a perfect parabolic arc.

The two-seater sofa was spacious enough. Yao Lin crashed down into its embrace, only to yelp, “Ow!” a second later.

He had thought it would be as soft as his bed, but he didn’t know the thrifty shopkeeper hadn’t stuffed it with much padding. With the force of his jump and his own weight, his arm hit the hard wooden base beneath the cushion with a sharp crack — his joint had gone out of place.

His scream was as tragic as if he had fallen headfirst into a cactus garden.

Everyone froze and looked toward Yi Shui instinctively. The room went completely silent. Yi Shui’s self-satisfied smile froze on his face; he was the sofa’s maker.

Heaven and earth could testify that he truly hadn’t installed a trap to harm demons in the sofa.

Fortunately, Nan Xu reacted quickly. He rushed over to check on him in a few steps, only to hear Yao Lin say tremblingly, “My wing’s broken.”

Nan Xu blinked blankly. Wing? Wing…

If Yao Lin’s face hadn’t been twisted in genuine pain, Nan Xu might have asked if it was his invisible wing or his dream’s wing that broke.

Nan Xu turned to Zhixing, the supposed expert. But Zhixing looked equally lost. Though he was a doctor in the demon realm, he had never treated such low-level injuries before.

In the end, Tingcuan came over, ran his hand over Yao Lin’s injured arm twice, and, with one deft motion, heard another crisp crack — followed by Yao Lin’s shrill cry of pain.

Nan Xu’s teeth ached just hearing it, but Tingcuan calmly withdrew his hand as if the agonizing scream had nothing to do with him.

A few breaths later, Yao Lin looked pitiful yet stubbornly brave. He gazed at Nan Xu and said tremblingly, “Owner, with an injury like this… shouldn’t we add a few more big dishes to help me recover?”

Nan Xu pressed his lips together, then turned to Tingcuan. “Is he…alright now? Why do I feel like his brain is hurt too?”

The bone had been dislocated, yet he was still thinking about food.

Tingcuan nodded firmly. “When You An lived in the mountains, he often roasted small birds to eat. I’m quite familiar with bird skeletons.”

Upon hearing that, Yao Lin—who had been hoping to use his injury as an excuse to earn more pity from the owner—instantly shut his mouth. It was as if all his strength had been drained away. He flopped onto the sofa and muttered weakly, “Forget it. My wing’s hurt. I’ve lost my appetite.”

—

After the sofas were set up, Yi Shui still seemed dissatisfied with all the furniture Nan Xu had made. He complained several times, and Nan Xu’s fragile heart was shattered once again.

“Replace them. Replace everything,” Nan Xu said.

And so, Yi Shui began his whirlwind carpentry work again. After replacing all the old, ugly furniture, he added several exquisite wooden carvings, instantly raising the inn’s overall class. His craftsmanship rivaled that of the most celebrated woodcarving masters in the human world.

During that time, Xu Le came up the mountain twice to keep his promise to help gather firewood. He also brought back several items that his uncle had collected outside the mountain. What delighted Nan Xu the most was the peanuts.

Perhaps because peanuts were not uncommon in the demon realm, their seeds had never been sold in the marketplace. Nan Xu vaguely remembered that one of Yao Lin’s “dark recipes” had once included peanut braised seafood.

“This was bought from a mountain squirrel demon by my second uncle,” Xu Le told Nan Xu. “It’s delicious when roasted. There weren’t many, so I only brought this little bit—all for Brother Nan.”

Looking at the little boy holding up a pouch of peanuts, Nan Xu felt a strange warmth in his chest. Given how slowly demon cubs matured, Xu Le probably didn’t yet know how to show affection, yet he could still offer what he loved most without hesitation.

“Then I’ll take it. Next year, I’ll give you even more peanuts,” Nan Xu said, patting his head.

Xu Le nodded firmly.

Once shelled, the peanuts weighed only about ten catties in total. Nan Xu decided to save them all as seeds and store them in the cellar to plant in April or May of the following year.

More than twenty days later, after all the furniture had been replaced and Yi Shui found nothing displeasing left, he refused the silver Nan Xu offered and left the mountain with his bags.

Wearing his self-tailored, rather mismatched autumn clothes, Nan Xu accompanied Yi Shui halfway down the mountain, watching his figure fade into the wild hills. Then, shivering in the cold wind, Nan Xu pulled his clothes tighter and turned back.

At some point, the sounds of insects and birds had grown scarce. The trees had shed their leaves, leaving only bare branches.

Walking along the mountain path covered in fallen leaves and twigs, Nan Xu felt the wind grow damp. Something light fell onto his face, so he paused and looked up. Through the web-like branches, he saw white snowflakes drifting down from the sky.

It was snowing.

The snow wasn’t heavy. Nan Xu slowed his steps. It was the first snowfall he’d seen since arriving in the demon realm. Perhaps because the mountains were colder, it had come earlier than expected.

Nan Xu had always feared snow—or rather, the cold that came with it. Childhood memories of damp clothes, unlit firewood, and icy bedding haunted him. He remembered frostbitten hands that still had to work through the pain and soaked sneakers with no replacements.

However, he was hopeful that after this snow, the temperature would finally drop, allowing him to switch out his odd autumn outfit for the discounted winter clothes he’d bought long ago.

The walk back should have taken an hour, but it took him an hour and a half. When he finally reached the small courtyard with snow on his head, he climbed the stone steps he’d carved himself and ran into Tingcuan, who was sitting on a boulder by the roadside.

“What are you doing here?” Nan Xu asked in surprise.

Tingcuan’s gaze fell on the snow covering Nan Xu’s head. “The mountain road is slippery in the snow. I came to see why you hadn’t returned yet.”

Not far behind Tingcuan, faint smoke rose from the courtyard—likely from Yao Lin experimenting with another dark recipe—while Tingcuan had come out to look for him.

Something warm flickered in Nan Xu’s heart. He turned back to look at the snowy path he’d just taken. Then, suddenly, he smiled—a bright, unguarded smile, as if letting go of years of unspoken bitterness.

He didn’t have to fear the cold winter anymore because this remote yet warm courtyard was now his home. Even in the freezing snow, there was someone who would come out and bring him back.

“It just started snowing. How could the ground already be slippery? I’ve been watching the snow the whole way back,” said Nan Xu.

“Mm.” Tingcuan replied softly. He stepped forward, brushed the snow off Nan Xu’s hair and clothes, grasped his cold, red hands tightly, and led him toward the courtyard. “Change your clothes first. Then we’ll watch the snow.”

Tingcuan had experienced firsthand how sensitive the human body was to the cold during their time in the formation, so he was even more attentive about keeping Nan Xu warm than Nan Xu himself was.

However, the warmth between them evaporated the moment they stepped into the courtyard.

“Yao Lin, what did you do this time?!” Nan Xu roared toward the kitchen.

The strange, foul stench defied logic — it was as if something had fermented in a sewer for decades. Just one whiff could make stars dance before your eyes.

Tingcuan wrinkled his nose at the faint smell, then promptly sealed his sense of smell. But Nan Xu is human and would die if he didn’t breathe. After just two breaths, he felt like his soul wanted to escape his body. After holding his breath for several seconds, he gasped. Then, carelessly letting go of Tingcuan’s hand, he ran outside the courtyard, squatted down, and began to vomit.

It was unbearable. Not even the worst garbage dump in the human world could compare to this stench.

Nan Xu retched until only bile came out. Fortunately, outside, the smell wasn’t as strong.

A warm hand rubbed the back of his neck. Tingcuan’s concerned voice followed. “Are you all right?”

With tears in his eyes, Nan Xu looked up, but before he could answer, Yao Lin came running out of the house with a spatula in hand. He scanned the yard until he found Nan Xu crouched by the fence.

“I’m making a sea fish sauce! I marinated sea fish with various seasonings and mixed it with seaweed and sour bamboo shoots. It doesn’t smell great, but it tastes amazing. Shopkeeper, would you like to try some?” Yao Lin said eagerly.

Whether it was the smell clinging to Yao Lin or the lethal aura from that spatula, a gust of wind carried the stench straight to Nan Xu’s nose again.

“I don’t— urgh!”

Another wave of dry heaving hit. Yao Lin seemed to realize something was wrong. When he met Tingcuan’s sharp gaze, he shrank back a few steps, looking utterly lost.

When Nan Xu lifted his head again, his face was streaked with tears. He didn’t care about the cold anymore; he wanted to pack up and flee from this courtyard forever, never to return.

“Go deal with whatever you made. Eat it or bury it; I don’t care,” Nan Xu said quickly before the wind changed direction again.

Yao Lin looked aggrieved. How could the owner despise his carefully developed new sauce so?

His stubborn, sorrowful expression could have melted anyone’s heart, but the memory of that smell prevented Nan Xu from feeling sorry for him. He gave an ultimatum: “Ten minutes. Between you and the sauce, only one can stay in this inn.”

Yao Lin trudged back inside, sulking. Just as he reached the doorway, he ran into Zhixing. Seizing the chance to salvage some dignity, Yao Lin asked earnestly, “Do you think my fish sauce is unique and special? Fresh and very contagious?”

Zhixing had come out after hearing the commotion. He had been hiding in his room all afternoon to avoid Yao Lin but still couldn’t escape. Faced with such a sincere question, Zhixing hesitated for a long moment before softly replying, “Yes, it’s unique and special—even the snow in the courtyard seems to have been tainted with a foul smell.”

Yao Lin: …

 

---

Author’s note:

Zhixing: This stench is really contagious.

Snow piled up in the courtyard: I’m no longer clean… T^T