POP.

The pepper, agitated by the rough handling and the sudden infusion of Sun Qi, detonated.

A cloud of red, spicy dust exploded in Gu Zhiwei’s face.

"AAAAAHHH!" The Protagonist staggered back, clutching his eyes. "My eyes! It burns! It’s a trap! The weeds are attacking!"

"You idiot!" Ji’an dropped her basket and rushed forward. "Don’t grab the Exploding Chilies! They have a defense mechanism!"

"Ah, ah, ahh! I’m blind!" Gu Zhiwei wailed, tears streaming down his flawless face. "Is this the end? Tell Brother Wen I’m sorry I ate his dessert!"

"You’re not blind, you just got pepper-sprayed!" Ji’an sighed, grabbing his wrist. "Come here and sit down. Don’t rub them!"

She pushed the flailing Holy Son onto a rock. She pulled a waterskin from her belt, uncorked it, and soaked a clean handkerchief.

"Lean back," she ordered.

Gu Zhiwei obeyed instantly, tilting his head back, his face red and puffy. He looked pathetic. And, Ji’an had to admit, kind of cute. Like a sad, spicy bun.

She gently wiped his eyes with the cool water.

"Open your eyes slowly," she instructed softly. "Let the tears wash it out."

Gu Zhiwei blinked. His eyelashes were wet and clumped together. He looked up at Ji’an, his vision blurry.

He saw a figure backlit by the sun, gently tending to him with cool, capable hands. The smell of savory spices and soap filled his nose.

"Brother Lin..." Gu Zhiwei sniffled. "You saved me again."

"I saved you from a vegetable," Ji’an corrected, stepping back. "Don’t put that in your biography."

Gu Zhiwei rubbed his eyes, finally regaining his sight. He looked at the exploded pepper patch with a mix of betrayal and respect.

"The plants here are vicious," he whispered. "How do you tame them?"

"With respect," Ji’an said, picking up her trowel. "And knowing which part to grab. Look."

She demonstrated on a Thunder-Root Ginger. Instead of yanking, she loosened the soil around it, tapped the root gently to dissipate the static charge, and pulled it out smoothly.

"Ohhh," Gu Zhiwei watched, mesmerized. He scooted closer on his rock, resting his chin on his hands. "You know everything, Brother Lin. Cooking. Fighting. Gardening. Is there anything you can’t do?"

"I can’t deal with people crying over peppers," Ji’an muttered, tossing the ginger into her bag.

"Teach me!" Gu Zhiwei jumped up. "Teach me how to harvest the... what is that?"

"Mint," Ji’an said.

"Teach me how to harvest the Mint!"

Ji’an looked at him. He was the Protagonist, Holy Son of the Heavens. He should be learning Heaven-Rank sword arts. He should be meditating on the mysteries of the universe.

Instead, he was standing in the mud, begging to pick herbs with a kitchen worker.

’If I say no, he’ll probably try again and blow up the mountain,’ Ji’an reasoned.

"Fine," she sighed, handing him a spare trowel. "But be gentle. If you use your Sun Qi, you’ll scorch the leaves, and burnt mint tastes like toothpaste."

"Understood!" Gu Zhiwei saluted seriously. "Gentle. No toothpaste."

The Brothers of the Soil

For the next hour, a strange scene unfolded on Medicine Peak.

The aloof, mysterious Lin Ji’an was on her hands and knees, digging up roots.

Beside her, the radiant, golden Gu Zhiwei was doing the same, his white robes getting progressively stained with green and brown.

"Like this?" Gu Zhiwei asked, holding up a stalk of Star-Anise with trembling reverence.

"Better," Ji’an nodded approvingly. "See? You didn’t crush the pod. Now we can use it for stew."

"Stew..." Gu Zhiwei sighed dreamily. "Brother Lin, your fried rice changed my life. The Fasting Pills taste like sad rocks now. Every time I eat one, I think of you."

Ji’an choked on her own saliva. "Phrasing, Brother Gu. Phrasing."

"But it’s true!" Gu Zhiwei turned to her, his eyes shining. "Before I met you, I thought cultivation was just... becoming pure. Rising above mortal needs. But your food... it felt like it had a soul. It made me feel warm. Connected."

He looked down at the dirt on his hands.

"Everyone treats me like an idol," he said softly, his voice losing its usual bubbly quality. "They put me on a pedestal. They don’t talk to me; they talk at me. Even Brother Wen... sometimes I feel like he’s managing me, not befriending me."

He looked up at Ji’an, a vulnerable, "little brother" expression on his face.

"But you... You, Brother Lin, yelled at me in the forest. You made me sleep on the ground. You just called me an idiot for grabbing a pepper."

A bright smile broke across his face.

"It feels... normal. It feels real. Can I... can I come visit you in the kitchen sometimes? I promise I won’t blow anything up. I just want to... sit. And maybe peel a potato?"

Ji’an stared at him.

This was the Protagonist, the guy who was supposed to ascend to godhood. And here he was, lonely because everyone treated him like a porcelain doll.

She felt the walls of her "avoid the plot" fortress crumbling. She couldn’t help it. She had a weakness for strays. First Wangchen, now this golden retriever.

"You want to peel potatoes?" Ji’an asked skeptically.

"I will become the Potato King!" Gu Zhiwei declared.

Ji’an sighed. A long, resigned sigh.

"Fine. You can come," she relented. "But if you come during rush hour, you work. No free meals."

"Yes, Chef!" Gu Zhiwei beamed.

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small, glowing jade token.

"Take this!"

"What is it?" Ji’an asked, wary of accepting more tokens.

"It’s a Sound-Transmission Jade," Gu Zhiwei explained. "It’s linked to mine. If anyone troubles you, like that scary Princess or... anyone else, just break it. I’ll come running. I’m a Direct Disciple now. I have authority!"

He puffed out his chest proudly.

Ji’an looked at the token. Protection from the Holy Son? That was actually useful. Especially with the Yandere Prince lurking around.

"Thanks," she pocketed it. "But don’t come running too fast. You trip a lot."