Journey to the End of the Night
Chapter 120 - 120 120 A Warm Night

120: Chapter 120: A Warm Night 120: Chapter 120: A Warm Night Merfolk were born of the vast seas, endowed with unique abilities and gifts.

If one were to lose their fins, it would likely prove quite disadvantageous.

Baili An couldn’t help but feel some worry upon this thought.

Lin Yuan’s pretty face flushed a light pink, her slender fingers nervously twined around the Ancient Vine in her hand, glowing with a faint light.

Her gaze wandered, and her expression was hesitant, unsure of how to explain.

Just as her eyes flickered, she acutely noticed Fang Geyu curling up the corner of his mouth into a sly smile, his eyes narrowing mischievously.

She opened her mouth as if wanting to say something, but the shock nearly made Lin Yuan expose her fish tail.

She quickly covered the little girl’s mouth.

“Mmm…

Mmm…”

Lin Yuan first shot Fang Geyu a fierce glare, then turned to Baili An with a forced chuckle, “It’s not a problem, with my current level of cultivation, having fins or not makes no difference.

And I always thought those fins looked unsightly.

Now with clean hands like a human’s, it’s not too bad.”

Baili An silently glanced at Fang Geyu and sighed, “Alright then.”

It seemed she had some unspoken difficulties, but avoiding medical treatment wasn’t wise.

In the future, he would have to find time to look through the medical texts within the Divine Mansion in the Mountain Realm, to find a remedy.

The evening mists lay heavy, and the night was not too deep, still early.

It was dinner time in the Mortal World.

At Baili An’s signal, Lin Guiyuan hauled over a large pile of firewood and started a fire.

Fang Geyu looked at Baili An with surprised eyes as he sat down and took out a heap of ingredients from his Qiankun Bag, and, uh…

even a kitchen knife and an iron pot.

She deadpanned, “You traded my Shifang City Mecha for this pile of scrap metal and wilted vegetable leaves?”

“Not just that.” Baili An fished out a chicken with its neck freshly slit from the Qiankun Bag like revealing a treasured possession.

Not wanting to waste the blood, he had drunk it cleanly.

Fang Geyu grimaced in disgust, covering her nose as if she had seen something utterly repulsive, “Are you a freak?

Bringing back a dead chicken.”

Baili An laughed heartily, placing the chicken on the ground, and took a big chubby turnip, handing it to Lin Guiyuan, “Guiyuan, do you know how to chop vegetables?”

His ash-grey eyes stared blankly at the turnip, topped with fresh green leaves.

Usually, his eyes lurked with a ghastly presence in the night, but now they were filled with sheer bewilderment.

He cocked his head with a pale, beautiful side profile, hesitating with a bit of embarrassment, “I…

I’ve never chopped before…”

Before Baili An could retract the turnip, Lin Guiyuan immediately straightened up, carefully took the vegetable, and looked at Baili An with earnest, ash-grey eyes, “But…

but I can learn.

I can be of help to you.”

Baili An barely suppressed a chuckle and hummed in response.

Lin Guiyuan, serious as if facing a formidable enemy, stiffly held the knife, his grip resembling someone ready to stab.

But still with clumsy movements, he earnestly did what Baili An had instructed.

Utilizing the creek water, Baili An deftly plucked and washed the chicken, his movements surprisingly adept, as if born with the skill.

Following instinctual memory, Baili An first marinated the cleaned chicken briefly, patted it dry, then placed it in a clay pot to roast over high heat.

In another pot, he slow-simmered a stew of lamb and turnip, and also wrapped a pot of dumplings, to serve as the main dish for the night.

Fang Geyu gave a soft gasp, sniffed, and said in amazement, “Gentlemen are supposed to stay away from the kitchen.

Can you actually cook?”

Baili An could barely distinguish the fragrance of food, the misty steam fogged his dark eyes, giving them a dreamlike enchantment.

He squatted beside the iron pot, adding a few sticks of firewood, and smiled, “Being able to eat is a blessing.”

Fang Geyu might have been imagining it, but she thought she could detect a wisp of sorrow in those steaming eyes of his.

It was a tranquil moment.

“Gurgle…”

Fang Geyu’s cheeks flushed red from the sound of her own stomach growling.

Lin Guiyuan let out an amused snort.

His face remained expressionless due to his stiff muscles, making it hard for him to smile, but the mocking humor in his ash-grey eyes was plainly evident.

Fang Geyu instantly became angry with embarrassment and scooped up a handful of weeds and dirt from the ground, hurling it at his head.

“What’s so funny?

What’s there to laugh at?

Ever since I came to the mountains, I’ve been eating nothing but grapes and fruits.

My mouth has nearly turned sour, and now I’m not allowed to have stomach complaints?”

Even when arguing with Fang Geyu, Lin Guiyuan always showed a disdainful, mocking expression.

But his actions would become extremely awkward, unable to even dodge a clump of grass and dirt, leaving him utterly disheveled as he replied gloomily, “If you don’t like it, you can leave.

Nobody’s keeping you here.”

Fang Geyu’s eyes roamed dismissively over the lamb and turnip stew, noting the odd shapes and sizes of the turnip pieces.

She scoffed, “A good-for-nothing who can’t even chop a turnip properly dares to chase others away?”

Lin Guiyuan knew he couldn’t win a verbal battle with this feisty girl, so he gave up trying to reason with her.

He humphed twice and went to the river to wash his face.

Baili An pulled out two small, chubby porcelain bottles from his bosom, inside which was a sweet beverage from the Mortal World.

Made from goat milk and baked with dried cheese, it had a warm, smooth texture, which wouldn’t melt even when heated.

He warmed them over the fire then handed them to Lin Yuan and Fang Geyu.

“Knowing the winter fruits can be tart, I’ll cook for you from now on.

Miss Fang Da, you must’ve been accustomed to delicacies from the mountains and seas, so please don’t scoff at my poor cooking skills.”

Fang Geyu’s dark, soft eyes stared at the two chubby bottles handed to her, the butter paper unable to contain the rich aroma of sweet milk that grew stronger with the heat.

For a moment, she seemed spellbound.

Baili An raised the milk bottle in his hand and waved it in front of her, “What’s the matter?

Don’t you like sweets?”

“In her childhood, she loved to cling to her father in the mountains, always nagging him for sugary fruits,” Lin Yuan chuckled, shaking her head.

It was obvious she had a sweet tooth too.

Taking advantage of Fang Geyu’s momentary daze, she took one of the bottles and stuffed it into her hand.

The warm bottle felt comforting in the chilly winter when held.

Lin Yuan held the bottle to warm her hands, and then, as if reminded of something, she bit her lip and her gaze shifted.

She pressed the warm bottle against Baili An’s cheek, her eyes tenderly soft as she watched his slightly bewildered gaze.

“Your body is always so cold, warm it up a bit…”

Fang Geyu shook her body, her voice turning nasally and derisive, “I smell a strong scent of sour and decay.”

Baili An looked puzzled, “Is this sweet milk spoiled?

Why would it be sour?”

Fang Geyu pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head continuously, “This child…

is hopeless.”

Lin Guiyuan had said he was just washing his face, but after washing for a while, he didn’t come back, presumably f

ed up with the young lady.

Meanwhile, Jin Sheng, who had been sleeping soundly in the tree, was roused by the warm aroma of the food.

“It’s too unkind!

Having something to eat and not calling me, these past few days have nearly robbed me of my taste.”