I Ate All of the Tai Sui’s Clones — Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
“You pickled them?” he asked.
“...Mm.”
“With what?”
“Spiritual spring water, salt, Sichuan peppercorns, and star anise.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“Use Jade Spring Water next time. Spiritual spring water is too harsh. It’ll affect the flavor.”
“...”
He set the jar down and went to the stove, where he watched me chop vegetables.
I chopped potatoes. He watched.
I tended the fire. He watched.
I handed seasonings to the Kitchen God. He kept watching.
The Kitchen God was so uncomfortable under his gaze that he whispered to me, “Xuan Ya, why has Tai Sui come to our kitchen?”
“He’s following me.”
“Following you? Why?”
“Because I ate his tendrils.”
The shovel in the Kitchen God’s hand dropped again.
“You ate Tai Sui’s tendrils?!”
His voice shot up eight octaves.
“Didn’t you say they were dead skin?”
“I just said that offhand! You believed me?”
Before I could argue back, Tai Sui spoke from behind me.
“They aren’t dead skin.”
The Kitchen God froze.
Tai Sui walked over to the stove and glanced at the pot in the Kitchen God’s hands.
“The flame is too high,” he said.
The Kitchen God instinctively turned it down at once.
Tai Sui nodded and turned to leave.
The Kitchen God looked at me, his expression complicated.
“Xuan Ya,” he said, “are you about to get into trouble?”
“I have a feeling I am,” I replied.
It turned out that when Tai Sui said he would “follow me,” he meant it literally.
I ate. He sat across from me and watched.
I washed the dishes. He stood beside me and watched.
I went back to my room to sleep. He stood outside the door and watched.
“How long are you going to keep staring?” I threw a pillow at him.
He caught it and placed it on the chair beside the door.
“Go to sleep,” he said.
“How am I supposed to sleep with you standing there?”
“Then should I come in?”
“...Just stay outside.”
I shut the door and lay down.
I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.
Not because I was afraid.
But because—
Who could sleep with someone standing outside their door?
I got up and cracked the door open to peek outside.
Tai Sui was still standing there. He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, as if he’d fallen asleep.
Moonlight fell across his face. His skin was white as porcelain, and his long lashes cast a soft shadow over his cheek.
For a moment, I thought perhaps he wasn’t as “bad luck” as the Kitchen God said.
He looked…
Quite handsome.
I closed the door and returned to bed.
This time, I fell asleep before long.
4
Tai Sui followed me for seven days. I lost seven jin.
Not because he was a nuisance, but because I felt too embarrassed to eat tendrils with him around.
After three days without them, I was so hungry my eyes were turning green.
On the eighth day, I couldn’t take it anymore. While he was at the Scripture Pavilion, I sneaked into the storeroom.
I opened the jars—
Empty.
Every last jar was empty.
I crouched on the floor, nearly bursting into tears.
“Are you looking for these?”
Tai Sui’s voice came from behind me.
I turned. He was holding a tendril in his hand.
It was pale and tender, and larger than any I’d seen before.
My eyes lit up.
“Where did you get it?”
“It grew.”
“Where did it grow?”
“On me.”
I looked at the tendril, then at him.
“Did you… pull it off yourself?”
“Mm.”
“Didn’t it hurt?”
He didn’t answer.
He simply held it out to me.
“Eat.”
I swallowed.
“I don’t need it… I’m not hungry anymore.”
“You haven’t eaten for three days.”
“How do you know?”
“I can feel it.”
He looked straight into my eyes.
“Your spiritual energy is weakening. If you don’t eat soon, you’ll turn back into your original form.”
“What form is that?”
“A mushroom.”
I was silent for five seconds.
Then I took the tendril and bit into it.
This one was different from the others.
Crispier and sweeter. After I swallowed, a warm current rose from my stomach and flowed through my whole body.
It felt so good I nearly moaned.
“Is it good?” he asked.
“Good,” I said.
“Mm.”
He offered me another one.
“What are you doing?”
“Eat more. You’re too thin.”
“I’ve lost seven jin! The Kitchen God used to say I was too fat!”
“The Kitchen God doesn’t understand.”
He crouched down and placed the tendrils in the jars one by one.
His movements were gentle and slow, as though he were doing something very important.
“You don’t have to steal them anymore,” he said.
“Why not?”
“I’ll give them to you.”
I looked at his profile, not knowing what to say.
“Why… are you being so good to me?” I asked.
He lifted his head and looked at me. The pupils in his pale-gray eyes contracted slightly.
“Because you ate my clones,” he said.
“Is that the only reason?”
“Mm.”
I had a feeling he wasn’t telling the whole truth.
But I didn’t press him.
As he placed each tendril in the jar, the corner of his mouth twitched.
Just a little. Just for a moment.
But I saw it.
It was a smile.
5
And so the days went by.
Tai Sui came to the kitchen to see me every day. He arrived in the morning and left at night, rain or shine.
The Kitchen God went from being afraid of him to getting used to him. Now he even set out an extra place at the table.
“Tai Sui, dinner’s ready,” the Kitchen God called.
Tai Sui shook his head.
“I don’t eat.”
“Then what do you come here for?”
“To see her.”
The Kitchen God fell silent.
Tai Sui really didn’t eat anything. Every day, he just stood in a corner of the kitchen and watched me chop vegetables, tend the fire, and wash dishes.
Sometimes he’d make a comment or two.
“You added too much salt.”
“The flame’s too low.”
“You cut the potatoes too thick.”
The Kitchen God said, “Why does he like bossing me around even more than I do?”
I replied, “Just put up with it. He’s my creditor.”
The Kitchen God: “...”
Once, while I was chopping vegetables, I accidentally cut my finger.
Blood dripped onto the floor.
A crack opened at once, and a little mushroom sprouted.
Tai Sui came over. He looked down at the mushroom, then at my hand.
“Don’t move,” he said.
He took my hand. A thread of white light flickered at his fingertip and covered the cut.
The wound closed at once, without even leaving a scar.
His hand was as cold as ever.
But the hand he held felt very warm.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Mm.”
He let go and stepped back.
I looked down at my hand, then at him.
The tips of his ears had turned red.
Just a little.
But as a celestial maid, I had excellent eyesight.
I saw it.
One day, I couldn’t help asking him:
“What do you think? How long are you going to follow me?”
He thought for a moment.
“Three thousand years.”