Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Before opening my shop, I first headed to the Miscellaneous Affairs Hall.

Although the Qingwu Sect was a major cultivation sect, their sense of procedural workflow was surprisingly advanced. If a disciple wanted to set up a stall, take on side jobs, or refine pills for others, they had to register. When I arrived with my “Qingwu Sect Functional Sweet Drink Trial Operation Application” that I had stayed up all night writing, the Miscellaneous Affairs Hall deacon stared at me for a long time.

“Milk… tea?”

“Correct.”

“What is milk tea?”

“A beverage that makes people feel better and makes cultivation feel a little less like you want to die.”

The deacon fell silent for a moment before asking, “Is it expensive?”

“Affordable.” I pushed the price list toward him. “The basic version is three Low-Grade Spirit Stones, with extra toppings costing more. For the first three days of opening, the second cup is half price, and if an old customer brings a new one, they both get a free serving of pearls.”

The deacon looked at the densely written paper with a complicated expression, as if he were looking at some sort of unorthodox, heretical path.

But in the end, he still stamped it for me.

“What’s the name?”

I thought about it and wrote down four words.

Moonview Milk Tea.

The shop was set up at the mountain pass between Danxia Peak and Sword Peak, a prime location. Everyone-those practicing the sword, those refining pills, those attending classes, and those heading down the mountain-had to pass through here. I used all my savings to exchange for a small wooden shed, then found a senior brother skilled in carpentry to make me a sign, which I hung with a string of self-illuminating wind chimes.

On the opening day, I only made three types.

Full Sugar No Ice Osmanthus Milk Dew, Bold Orange, and Taro Boba.

To attract customers, I even wrote a promotional slogan:

“Don’t Want to Ascend Today, just want to extend my life.”

As it turned out, the first person to arrive wasn’t a junior brother or sister, nor was it a curious outer sect disciple. It was Mo Tingyuan.

The Sword Venerable of the Qingwu Sect, a once-in-three-centuries genius of the sword dao, a flower on a high ridge, as cold as the eternal ice atop a snowy mountain. He was also the person Wei Jinghong most wanted to win over at this stage, and the one she was least likely to succeed with.

Dressed in white with his sword on his back, he stood before my little sign. The surrounding air went silent.

The disciples lined up in front were so terrified they automatically scrambled to the sides to make way.

My heart skipped a beat. I thought my stall was going to be shut down by the Sword Venerable on its very first day for “disturbing the dao heart with sweetness.”

Instead, he looked at it for a long time before saying only one thing: “What is the sweetest thing you have here?”

I was stunned.

“Full Sugar No Ice Osmanthus Milk Dew.”

“Give me one.”

I finished making it mechanically and handed it over with both hands.

He took it and lowered his head to take a sip.

Then another.

By the third sip, his eyelashes fluttered almost imperceptibly, like a hint of spring water finally melting in a snowy field.

Then he said, “Add another serving of Black Pearls.”

Me: “…Alright.”

The spectating disciples: “…?”

By that afternoon, the entire Qingwu Sect was going wild.

The Sword Venerable, Mo Tingyuan, had stood expressionlessly at the mountain pass drinking a cup of Full Sugar No Ice with extra pearls.

I became an overnight sensation too.

Everyone wanted to know what on earth could make the Sword Venerable pause for three breaths after drinking, and even steal another glance at the sign before turning to leave.

That was when Wei Jinghong rushed over.

She had dressed up like a cloud ready to meet her beloved, clutching a sword tassel she had prepared for Mo Tingyuan. When she saw the scene from a distance, she froze on the spot.

“Senior Sister,” her voice was airy, “was the Sword Venerable… just standing in line at your place?”

I said earnestly, “Strictly speaking, it wasn’t really a line. No one dared to stand in front of him when he arrived.”

She watched Mo Tingyuan’s departing figure, her face a picture of a collapsing worldview.

The system had probably crashed too. She stood there for a long time, steam practically coming out of her head, unable to squeeze out a single word.

I stuffed a cup of milk tea-a failed trial batch that was still very sweet-into her hands.

“Drink.”

“What is this?”

“The ‘Consolation for the Heartbroken-to-Be’ special.”

She took a sip, and her eyes instantly widened.

“Senior Sister.”

“Hmm?”

“I suddenly feel like… even if I don’t succeed in winning him over, it’s not like I can’t live.”

I smiled.

“It’s about time you thought that way.”

When I closed the stall at dusk, I counted my coin pouch.

On the first day, I made a net profit of thirty-seven Low-Grade Spirit Stones.

I sat on a small stool clutching my money bag, feeling that even the wind in this cultivation world tasted sweet.

But I didn’t expect that the truly big customers were still to come.