“Here are your wonton noodles, sir.” The stall owner tossed a cloth over his shoulder and set the bowl in front of him.

Li Ye picked up his chopsticks, glanced at the bowl, and raised an eyebrow slightly: “Something’s missing.”

“Hmm?” Er’er returned from her thoughts and leaned over to look at his bowl. “What’s missing?”

“Green onions.”

What? Er’er blinked: “You don’t even like eating the five grains, yet you care about green onions?”

Li Ye pursed his lips, looking rather critically at the stall owner behind them. The owner had a simple, honest appearance and immediately scratched his head with a smile: “My apologies, sir. Business was good today, and we’ve run out of green onions. Old Lady Liu, who sells onions, has fallen ill and can’t deliver anymore. How about I reduce the price by one copper coin?”

Since when were green onions worth one copper? Er’er couldn’t help but laugh. She was about to wave her hand and say it wasn’t necessary when she heard the big boss say seriously: “Where does she grow her onions?”

Stall owner: “…”

Er’er: “…”

…

…

It was just a handful of green onions—there was no need to be so persistent.

The owner wanted to laugh, but facing Li Ye’s expression, he felt an inexplicable unease. After hesitating for a moment, he said softly: “They’re to the southwest. After you pass by the Guanyin Temple, take that small path, and you’ll find a thatched hut with a field beside it.”

Li Ye nodded and pulled Er’er along with him.

Unable to decide whether to laugh or cry, Er’er said: “It tastes good even with fewer green onions.”

“It loses three parts of its fragrance.”

Are all Heavenly Deities this demanding about flavor? Then how did he manage to eat the food she cooked with her level of culinary skill?

Er’er grumbled inwardly, but there was no stopping the big boss once he had made up his mind. The two of them walked to a secluded place and, making sure no one was around, flew directly to the thatched hut the stall owner had mentioned.

The green onions in the field were lush and green, all bending uniformly when the wind blew.

Li Ye glanced at the dilapidated hut, conjured a silver ingot with a turn of his hand, and tossed it through a hole in the roof. Then he turned back to the patch of green onions and drew his Phoenix Slayer Blade.

Er’er couldn’t bear to watch anymore. She covered her face, silently thinking that as long as the big boss was happy, it didn’t matter. It was just an ancient divine weapon—the onions it cut would still be edible.

However, she turned her head and looked a bit more toward the thatched hut.

It was so quiet. There wasn’t even a reaction when the silver fell inside.

Growing curious, Er’er tiptoed forward and peered through the half-closed wooden door.

The oil in the lamp had run out. The onion-selling granny was huddled on a messy bed board, her face a waxy yellow, cheekbones protruding, eye sockets sunken deep—without a trace of life.

Er’er’s pupils contracted slightly as she pushed open the door.

The person seemed to have died only recently. There was still a lingering soul voice in the room, reluctant to leave. She tilted her ear and could hear an elderly, weak voice murmuring: “Tomorrow will be better, tomorrow will be better.”

Her eyes inexplicably warmed as she turned back and called out: “Li Ye.”

With a swift cut of his blade, the green onions in the field were trimmed into neat, small stalks. Li Ye was just satisfyingly collecting the onions when he heard her voice tinged with tears, and his brow immediately furrowed.

“What is it?” He flashed to her side, vigilantly scanning the surroundings.

Opening her palm, Er’er looked at him pitifully: “Could you send her off?”

A luminous, fragile light—the soul of a mortal.

His brow relaxed, and he seemed somewhat weary: “Most mortals are unwilling to leave this world when they die. Having lingering souls that refuse to go to the Netherworld is quite common. What virtue or ability does she have that warrants me sending her on her way?”

Lowering her head to think hard, Er’er said with difficulty: “She grew green onions for you.”

Even she found this reason absurd as she said it. When mortal souls are unwilling to depart, it’s usually because they have unfulfilled wishes. For a minor immortal like her to help a mortal fulfill their last wish could be called a divine blessing, let alone a Heavenly Deity like Li Ye. Green onions hardly constituted a great merit.

But unexpectedly, Li Ye nodded: “That does make sense.”

Er’er: “…”

The Ninth Heaven had rules. For a mortal to be transcended by an immortal required nine lifetimes of merit, approval from the Heavenly Diviner, and the establishment of a sacrificial altar in the human realm. But Li Ye didn’t care about these things. Even ninety lifetimes of merit meant nothing to him—eating wonton noodles with green onions was more important than anything.

So, he raised his hand and pointed at that luminous white light.

Brilliance erupted inside the thatched hut. Er’er stepped back half a pace and saw the luminous remnant soul fall to the ground, taking on the appearance of Old Lady Liu.

She didn’t see the two of them and didn’t seem to know she was already dead. She simply slung her vegetable basket over her arm as usual, preparing to head to the market.

“Tomorrow he’ll be back. I need to exchange some more money, buy a couple of ounces of meat, heh.”

Muttering continuously, she tried to push the door open but was blocked by Li Ye.

“Who are you waiting for?” he asked coldly.

Old Lady Liu looked around in confusion, stopping instinctively to answer: “My son, Fang Han.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s been guarding the border for three years. He’ll be back soon.”

Li Ye raised his hand and made a grabbing motion in the void.

Er’er held her breath watching, thinking he was going to bring Fang Han back, but after a moment, there was nothing in his hand.

“What’s going on?” Er’er was puzzled. “Are there people even you can’t find?”

“Of course there are.” Withdrawing his hand, Li Ye looked at Old Lady Liu with a complex expression. “The dead belong to the Netherworld. I cannot summon them.”

“…” Her heart sank as Er’er looked at Old Lady Liu.

She was still stubbornly trying to open the sealed door ahead, her face full of confusion.

Unable to fulfill her last wish, she could not be transcended.

“Never mind.”

With a sweep of his sleeve, he collected her soul into his cuff and said coldly: “Since we’re going to the Netherworld anyway, it’s no trouble to bring her along.”

Er’er nodded, following him outside with a sense of melancholy.

Glancing at her, Li Ye didn’t know what to say. This little one was too sentimental; even for someone completely unrelated to her, she could get misty-eyed.

After thinking for a moment, he said in a deep voice: “Humans are inherently fragile and vulnerable. Didn’t you know that? Isn’t that why you pursued immortal cultivation?”

“Me?” Er’er shook her head. “I originally didn’t want to cultivate. But my royal father said that only by cultivating and ascending could our tens of millions of subjects possibly survive.”

“Being human is quite nice. Although compared to immortals, human lifespans are as brief as mayflies, the human world is very interesting.”

Is the Ninth Heaven not interesting?

Li Ye was displeased, but thinking about it, perhaps it wasn’t that interesting—just convenient for cultivation.

He snorted unhappily: “No matter how interesting it is, it’s not a place one can stay for long.”

“Huh?” Er’er drooped her eyebrows dejectedly. “Do we have to leave right away? The Hundred Flowers Festival is just a few days away.”

Did they come to the human realm to celebrate festivals? Li Ye pressed his hand on her head, saying impatiently: “Finding the Gate of Life and Death is the top priority.”

“How do you know the Gate of Life and Death isn’t in the human realm?” she argued stubbornly.

Nonsense. If something as terrifying as the Gate of Life and Death were in the human realm, wouldn’t a great number of people die? Li Ye couldn’t be bothered to argue with her and simply picked her up, returning to the noodle stall.

Adding a handful of green onions, the big boss contentedly finished the still-warm wontons.

The stall owner stood by his small stall, his face full of astonishment as he stared at several bundles of green onions piled higher than himself, the corner of his mouth twitching.