The Dragon-Qilin dove into the lake, stirring up waves. On the surface, a Daoist hurried over, clutching a horsetail whisk. He flicked it toward the water, and countless silken threads spread like a giant fishing net, trying to ensnare the Dragon-Qilin below.
Boom!
The lake's surface shook violently. The Daoist grunted, his horsetail whisk exploding until only the handle remained. Realizing he was no match for the Dragon-Qilin, he turned and ran, shouting, "Monsters! Bathing in the imperial Jade Dragon Lake and daring to attack me—just wait, you’ll be executed for this!"
Not long after, the Academy's scholars streamed out of Pure Sun Hall and headed toward the Scholars’ Quarters. Today, Daoist Rowan had lectured in Pure Sun Hall, which specialized in the Dao of qi refinement. Rowan was famed for his deep cultivation, refining his yuanqi to the level of pure yang.
Many scholars hadn’t yet returned to the Scholars’ Quarters when they suddenly stopped, dumbfounded, and turned around—one by one, they froze in place.
A gigantic, absurdly large crimson fish flew through the air. Its scales gleamed red, and dragon horns jutted from its head. Years of absorbing the Nine-Dragon qi here had given its head a draconic transformation, leaving it half-fish, half-dragon, with a mouthful of razor teeth—utterly ferocious.
At this moment, the giant fish was bound by several yuanqi restraints, unable to move. A demonic wind carried it straight toward the Scholars’ Quarters, leaving the scholars utterly transfixed.
Behind the fish lumbered an even larger Dragon-Qilin, shaking water from its body as it ran. Atop its head stood a white fox, whipping up the wind to help carry the fish.
The Dragon-Qilin, with the fox riding atop, charged into the Scholars’ Quarters and dumped the giant fish with a thud into Dr. Quinn’s courtyard. The little fox darted inside and shut the door behind her.
One scholar muttered, "That fish looks like one of the fish kings from Jade Dragon Lake—the Crimson Dragon Carp. It’s an imperial delicacy, served to the emperor and his ministers at the Imperial Dragon Banquet..."
Beside him, another scholar stared blankly, mumbling, "Last year my grandfather was lucky enough to attend the Imperial Dragon Banquet and taste the fish soup. He couldn’t stop praising it, and even now he calls it the finest flavor on earth... But that Crimson Dragon Carp was only about a foot long. This one..."
Before the others could recover, Quinn’s door opened again. The white fox slipped out, glanced around, then trotted to a mulberry tree, spat out a gust of demonic wind, and chopped the tree down. She shaped the wind into curved blades, slicing the tree into firewood, and carried it back to the courtyard.
The little fox made several trips, hauling the trunk back as well. Soon, thick smoke billowed from Quinn’s courtyard—clearly, the fox and Dragon-Qilin were building a fire to roast the fish.
The scholars exchanged uneasy glances. Tina Qu muttered, "That’s the Aspiration Tree, planted by Master Greenhill from Azure Sun Hall. He planted it to inspire us to study and strive upward..."
Soon, the delicious aroma spread throughout the Scholars’ Quarters.
Drooling, the scholars stared at each other. This outcast from the Great Ruins, along with his fox and Dragon-Qilin, had slaughtered the fish king from the imperial Jade Dragon Lake, chopped down Master Greenhill’s Aspiration Tree, and was now roasting fish over the fire?
Are they trying to rebel or something?
"Young master, how does it taste?"
Inside Quinn’s courtyard, the boy and the fox chatted. Quinn’s voice came: "It’s alright, but it’s not marinated—doesn’t have much flavor. Fish tastes best when marinated for a whole day and night; then it’s crisp and tender. This fish is huge—where did it come from?"
"From the lake."
"I see. I once went fishing at the lake with Grand Libationer Gale and saw several big red fish, but we only caught a Nine-Dragon Carp—tiny, but its soup was delicious. Roasting fish with mulberry wood is perfect; it adds a sweet and tangy berry aroma."
......
All the scholars in the Scholars’ Quarters watched with schadenfreude. Tina Qu snickered, "Dr. Quinn is doomed!"
In the courtyard, Quinn turned a thick wooden spit, rotating the Crimson Dragon Carp over vigorous flames. The Dragon-Qilin expertly controlled the mulberry-wood fire, roasting the fish until the outside was crisp and the inside tender.
The Dragon-Qilin managed the fire, letting the heat seep deep into the fish’s flesh and bones. The mulberry wood was green and moist, so the smoke had a distinctive aroma. Lina the Spirit Fox manipulated the wind, infusing the smoke into the fish meat.
They stuffed the fish belly with mulberry leaves, scallions, and ginger. The belly was rich with tender fish oil, which sizzled and dripped into the flames, releasing fragrant blue smoke that made everyone’s mouth water.
Once the whole fish was cooked, Lina immediately used wind-blade knives to slice the belly meat—the fattiest part.
Her knife skills were superb; each slice was perfect. She even controlled the plates, letting each piece land neatly. Every slice was translucent, soft, and springy—like chunks of creamy white jade.
Quinn adjusted the fire lower, and the boy, the fox, and the Dragon-Qilin sat around the fire, eating roasted fish together.
As Quinn ate, he recalled a strange auxiliary technique from the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra—the Spirit Renewal Great Nourishment Art. He activated his yuanqi and ran the technique, speeding up digestion. Soon his belly was empty again, and he kept eating, circling the fire for more fish.