Chapter Twenty-Nine: Old Shade’s Tea-Soaked Rice

At this moment, there was only one table of customers in the teahouse: three shirtless men sat at the very center of the wooden shed. They wore brown, dirt-resistant cloth undershirts, and one of them had straw sandals with several holes, exposing ugly toes caked with grime beneath the nails.

Each man had a cup of the cheapest dark tea before him, paired with a bowl of coarse rice. The whole meal cost just six copper coins. With a small shared dish of pickled vegetables, the three of them spent seven coins in total—a humble lunch solved so simply.

“Nothing looks better than plain dress, nothing tastes better than tea-soaked rice. A bowl of tea rice and a few sticks of pickled mustard—happier than the immortals!” one man exclaimed, tapping the rim of his bowl with bamboo chopsticks as he shouted.

His square face was darker than stove soot, tanned red-black by the sun, and shone with a greasy sheen, making him look utterly disheveled. To the unknowing, it might appear as if he were feasting on fine wine and delicacies, but in truth, his stomach was empty of any oil or fat.

All three men hailed from the same village, orphans who’d grown up together. They farmed rented land and owned nothing but a few crumbling houses and some bits of silver; life was tight. Their only extravagance was coming to this teahouse every ten days for a bowl of tea rice to relieve the summer heat.

As for wives, none had managed to marry—three bachelors, through and through.

“Tsk tsk, nothing’s more fun than a sister-in-law, nothing’s tastier than dumplings. The rich live on a grand diet of fish and meat every day, unlike us poor folks—we could go three days without eating and not die. Coming here to this rundown teahouse for tea rice and pickles is a rare treat in a whole month,” complained the slightly plump man, his eyes always carrying a lecherous glint. He was a man with a problem—not afraid of hardship or poverty, but hopelessly lustful.

He couldn’t move his legs when he saw a beautiful woman—especially if she was unfamiliar, unattached. Relying on certain talents and tricks, he specialized in sneaking into the beds of widows in the village, earning himself some benefits. Beautiful women would occasionally treat him to meals, so his days were better than his two brothers’. At least he got a taste of meat every few days. Unfortunately, whatever nourishment he gained from those meals seemed to slip away just as quickly…

“What, you don’t appreciate my cooking? So what if it’s a shabby teahouse! My skills in the kitchen can match any chef at a grand restaurant!” said a woman in a yellow blouse at the next table.

She looked to be in her thirties, wore no makeup, her hair coiled simply, clean and efficient—a capable and shrewd woman by the look of her.

She was the proprietress of the teahouse.

Her phoenix eyes could ensnare the soul, dark currents flickering within and a lazy charm at the corners. Her plain face outshone the brightest blossoms, her complexion rivaled the flowers of early spring. Such was the woman spoken of in old poems.

“No, how would I dare disparage your cooking, madam? Not everyone can make simple fare taste so good,” the plump man said with a sheepish grin, his eyes nearly glued to her with obvious desire.

But with the proprietor sitting beside her, he dared not act out, and quickly reined in his gaze after only a few glances. Rumor in the village had it that the man was not someone to be trifled with—quite skilled, with unknown origins.

Huff—

A carriage stopped before the teahouse.

“Young masters, it’s already noon. The sky looks gloomy, and I fear it might rain soon. There’s nowhere else ahead to eat—we should rest here, have a cup of tea, and move on,” said Xiang Tong.

The teahouse was small and rough, but as long as the wind didn’t howl, it would suffice for shelter from the rain.

“Alright.”

The group alighted from the carriage and walked toward the teahouse.

The three men inside looked their way and were instantly dazzled.

Beautiful!

Handsome!

What a feast for the eyes!

Who could have imagined that the sons and daughters of some wealthy family, out on an excursion, would patronize this humble teahouse?

Luo Changning and his companions were naturally striking in appearance. Though still young, it was easy to imagine what presence they would command in the future.

Ma Xue’e, dressed in pink, was sweet and charming. Ma Qingyun, in modest brown, wore a disguise that rendered his face utterly ordinary, but his refined, aloof bearing could not be ignored—one couldn’t help but wonder what great family could produce such an outstanding servant.

Luo Changning’s long brows cut into his temples, a dash of youthful heroism marking his handsome features. Even just standing there, he could make countless women swoon, despite still being just a boy!

As for Xiang Yinglong and Xiang Tong, both were brimming with masculine vigor, exuding an aura of strength.

“Ha, I never thought I, Old Xu, would see such a spectacle in my life. Three young masters—handsome, beautiful, robust—and even their servants are no ordinary folk!” said the plump man, sipping his tea with a sigh.

“Old Xu, don’t tell me you’d even go after those children,” said Wei, the third man, who’d been silent until now.

“Come on, I’m no beast. Those little girls still wet behind the ears aren’t to my taste. Besides, you can tell at a glance these are young masters from wealthy families—I, Old Xu, wouldn’t dare cause trouble.”

They spoke in hushed voices, wary of being overheard.

As an innate martial artist, Ma Qingyun missed none of this, casting a cold, sharp glance their way, his eyes frosty and merciless.

The men’s hair stood on end, and they rubbed their bare arms nervously.

Mother of mercy, terrifying! Now they understood what it meant to kill with a glance! No wonder the servants of the rich were so intimidating.

Best to shut up, finish eating, and leave quickly—before they got silenced for good…

In a flurry, they scraped their bowls clean, tossed down seven copper coins, and fled.

“Well, for once they didn’t linger at my place—left in a hurry, too,” the proprietress said, seemingly oblivious to Ma Qingyun’s chilling presence, spitting a seed shell from her mouth.

She clapped her hands, then approached the newcomers with a smile: “What would you like to eat? My place may be humble, but there’s no shortage of good home cooking—I guarantee you’ll want to keep eating.”

“As for drinks, it’s either plain water or dark tea. Of course, if you’ve brought your own leaves, I’ll brew them for you.”

The group entered the wooden shed and sat at the tables. With only four to a table, Luo Changning and his companions sat together, while Xiang Tong took a table by himself.

“Madam, bring us each a bowl of dark tea. Also, some peanuts, boiled edamame, spiced broad beans, stir-fried pork, mapo tofu, and two large plates of greens,” Luo Changning ordered.

Ma Xue’e blinked and mouthed to Luo Changning: I want meat!

“Do you have chicken?” Luo Changning asked. Seeing the proprietress nod, he continued, “Then add three plates of spicy diced chicken and ten drumsticks.”

“And do you have any shrimp?” Ma Qingyun inquired—his sister’s favorite.

“Yes, we do.” This was Qiuhe Prefecture, near the sea and crisscrossed with rivers; seafood was abundant.

“Then three plates of stir-fried shrimp as well.”

The proprietress poured each of them a bowl of dark tea and went to prepare the food.

The tea, reddish-brown in color, was served in rough earthen bowls—simple, yet inviting.

At the neighboring table, Xiang Tong said, “This dark tea is best enjoyed in big gulps.”

He demonstrated by taking a long, satisfying drink.

Ma Xue’e copied him, took a large mouthful, then stuck out her tongue, exclaiming, “Oof, bitter, astringent—nothing like Cangshan Snow Green or Magnolia Blossom Tea.”

But after a moment, her frown relaxed, and she smacked her lips in delight: “Hey, there’s a sweet aftertaste, and it’s very refreshing. The more you drink, the better it tastes!”

“Wonderful,” Xiang Yinglong sighed.

“Tea rice with dark tea is even better. After drinking this, you can eat all the chilies you like without fear.”

Just then, the proprietress brought over the peanuts and spiced broad beans, grinning as she said, “Don’t underestimate this dark tea—it may be a commoner’s drink, but it’s not lacking. In the blazing summer, it’s every bit as good as chilled plum wine.”

Before long, all the dishes were served. Luo Changning watched the teahouse proprietor at a distance with discreet curiosity.

He was a man of almost forty, compact and strong, his skin a healthy wheat color, quiet and reserved. Since their arrival, he hadn’t said a word; after clearing the table left by the three men, he simply sat and shelled sunflower seeds, unconcerned with the business at hand.

There was not a hint of authority or braggadocio about him—he seemed an utterly ordinary teahouse owner. Yet his hawk-sharp eyes betrayed him, filled with an undiminished ambition!

Luo Changning thought to himself: This man is anything but simple.

He picked up a piece of spicy chicken and put it in his mouth, then washed it down with a big gulp of dark tea.

Exhilarating!

In his past life, he hadn’t been able to eat spicy food due to health issues. Now, he could finally indulge as he pleased! A life without chili was pure torment.

In truth, there were many delicacies on Earth Dragon Continent he hadn’t tasted. Beyond his physical limitations, those around him were never willing to spend money to let him eat well—being full was a luxury. Most of the time, he survived on compressed biscuits and relief rations; even instant noodles were a treat!

He was no longer the bullied “007” of before, but Luo Changning, with infinite possibilities ahead.

His stage would begin with the martial arts ranking tournament in Heishui County, and never end!