(20)Chicken soup for the soulless
Chapter 20: Chicken Soup for the Soulless
Beneath the peachwood pavilion, where ethereal blossoms swayed in a wind that did not blow, the newly formed disciples of the sect sat in awkward silence. Xue Lan cradled the Moon-Rooted Sapling in a clay pot, her brows furrowed with maternal concern. Across from her, the scarecrow sect master—Aarav, reborn and barely holding his dignity together—stirred a steaming pot of what appeared to be spiritual chicken soup.
Except it wasn't. It was just soup. Regular soup. With chicken bones that rattled like they had something to say.
"Senior Brother, the bones are whispering to me again," Xue Lan muttered, keeping her voice low.
Aarav stirred. "They whisper to everyone. Ignore them unless they ask for salt."
She squinted into the pot. One particularly bony leg twitched and gurgled, "Ssshe forgot the turmeric again…"
He slapped the ladle against the rim. "Don't sass the chef, you ancient leftovers."
Wei Zhong, the newly awakened Guardian who had bonded with Aarav during the Great Realm Break, sat just outside the cooking circle, arms folded. His ghostly aura shimmered faintly, casting a silvery outline around his once-bloody armor. He didn't speak much, but his presence anchored the sect in a strange way—part relic, part reluctant uncle.
Aarav cleared his throat. "Alright, gather up. Today's lesson: how to trick a demon into planting vegetables."
The disciples blinked.
"Yes, you heard me. If we want food that won't curse us in our sleep, we need to cultivate spiritual soil. That means demon-tilled fields. Fortunately, I've captured a rather chatty Vine Demon."
He pointed toward the edge of the sect grounds, where a grotesque yet vaguely humanoid creature stood shackled to a wheelbarrow. Its leaves trembled in what might've been shame.
"You promised me freedom," it hissed.
"I promised you fermented plum wine. That's not the same thing."
Xue Lan approached cautiously. "What if it refuses?"
"Then we guilt it into compliance," Aarav declared. "Ready your most tragic backstory. Bonus points if it involves abandoned rice balls."
---
Later That Day
Aarav sat in his bamboo hut, rubbing his temples. The Vine Demon had been coaxed into planting not with guilt, but with compliments.
"You have such symmetrical vines," Xue Lan had said earnestly. "I've never seen such perfectly twisted thorns."
The demon had nearly wept.
"You're all insane," Wei Zhong finally said, appearing beside Aarav's bedroll.
"Correction," Aarav replied, "we are creatively underfunded."
Wei Zhong's gaze hardened. "There's more coming. The next Realm Break won't wait. You need to prepare."
Aarav nodded. "Then help me train them. But… make it funny. I don't want my sect to smell like trauma. Not all the time."
---
Nightfall
Xue Lan couldn't sleep. She walked quietly beneath the moonlight, passing the blooming flowers of the Moon-Rooted Tree, now fully grown into a teenage sapling.
She thought of her brother. Of the world they had left behind.
Wei Zhong's voice spoke softly beside her. "You're afraid to fail him."
She didn't answer.
"I was too. My younger brother died because I hesitated. That's why I couldn't pass on. You're stronger than me."
She looked up. "Then help me become worthy of this sect."
Wei Zhong, for once, smiled. "That's why I chose you."
---
Meanwhile…
Aarav, deep in his courtyard, struggled with a scroll.
"To host more disciples, the sect must expand to Three Peaks."
He stared at the line. "I can barely handle these two weirdos, and now I have to add a third mountain?"
He sighed and reached for another piece of chicken.
The bone whispered, "Don't be a coward, Master Aarav. Dream large. Cook larger."
He paused. "Are you… the spirit of my grandmother?"
"Only in soup form."
He nodded solemnly. "Then I shall name the third peak… Broth Mountain."
And somewhere, somehow, the heavens sighed.
---
End of Chapter 20
Reader Comment Question: If you were a demon forced to farm for your enemies, what compliment would make you willingly grab a shovel?