Chapter 217: The Dining Pavilion
The Qian family had the sense to back off, and for several days, they had not come to trouble him again.
Mo Hua was content with the newfound peace and resumed tending to his own affairs.
Both the Artifact Refining Workshop and the Alchemy Workshop had been constructed, so he no longer needed to concern himself with them. There was, however, another matter he had long been planning to undertake.
One afternoon, An Xiaofu came by again to eat.
He drank wine, ate meat, and chatted merrily with everyone.
Perhaps he had inherited his mother's gift, for An Xiaofu possessed an uncanny talent both for listening to gossip and for telling it.
When he listened, others loved to talk; when he talked, others loved to listen.
Mo Hua waved him over.
An Xiaofu blinked in surprise, then his expression brightened, and he eagerly scampered over.
As he came closer, he noticed that Mo Hua's table was completely empty and looked puzzled.
"No food?"
Mo Hua sighed inwardly. Apparently, the boy had only come running because he thought there was something to eat.
"Have you decided what you want to do?" Mo Hua asked directly.
An Xiaofu sighed. "Not yet…"
"Would you like to open a dining pavilion?" Mo Hua asked.
"A dining pavilion?" An Xiaofu blinked. "But our family already has one."
"Not the same kind."
An Xiaofu frowned, thinking hard, yet could not figure out what could possibly be different.
"Don't all dining pavilions work the same?"
"The one you open would be yours."
"Mine?"
An Xiaofu thought for a moment, then his eyes widened in alarm. "You want me to overthrow my father and seize the family's pavilion for myself?"
Mo Hua nearly choked. "How did you even come up with that idea…"
"The other day, a traveling merchant came by. I bought him a drink, and he told me a story…"
An Xiaofu lowered his voice conspiratorially and whispered,
"He said there was a cultivator's son who secretly killed his father, took over his father's sect and fortune, and no one ever found out. If the son hadn't gotten drunk and slipped up, no one would've known…"
Mo Hua sighed. "You don't need to kill your father."
An Xiaofu let out a breath of relief and patted his chest. "Good, good."
Mo Hua continued, "Open a dining pavilion according to your own tastes."
"My own tastes?"
An Xiaofu still looked confused.
"Do you like eating here?"
An Xiaofu nodded.
"Do you like listening to stories?"
"I do."
"Do you enjoy eating the beast meat here?"
An Xiaofu nodded even harder.
"Then do you understand?" Mo Hua asked.
An Xiaofu seemed to catch on, his eyes gradually brightening, though he still hesitated. "But I don't have anything."
"What does opening a dining pavilion require?"
An Xiaofu counted on his fingers. "Spirit stones, a building, a cook, recipes, a stove, workers…"
"The stove I can handle. You can ask my mother for the recipes. As for the spirit stones, the building, and the workers, ask your grandfather."
"My grandfather?"
"Yes."
An Xiaofu hesitated. "Grandpa won't agree…"
"How would you know if you don't ask?"
"But…"
"Do you want to open this pavilion or not?" Mo Hua asked.
An Xiaofu thought about it carefully and nodded earnestly. "I do!"
"Then if you want to do it, you must put in the effort."
An Xiaofu still looked nervous at the thought of his grandfather.
Mo Hua said, "The more you fear something, the less you'll dare to do it. The less you do it, the more fearful you become."
An Xiaofu mumbled softly, not sure what to say.
"Does your grandfather beat you?"
"Not usually. My father does…"
"Are you afraid of your father beating you?"
An Xiaofu nodded.
"Then imagine your grandfather already glared at you and beat you once. After that, go talk to him."
An Xiaofu froze.
"If he's already glared and already beaten you, what's left to fear?"
An Xiaofu suddenly understood and felt his fear ease. "That… actually makes sense."
Mo Hua patted his shoulder. "If you don't work hard for what you love now, you'll regret it later."
Courage surged within An Xiaofu. He nodded solemnly.
However, once he got home, that courage evaporated.
Just thinking of his grandfather and father made him instinctively nervous.
He could not even say what he was afraid of, he just was.
He lost his appetite and could not sleep at night. He wanted to visit Mo Hua's eatery again, but he felt ashamed to show his face.
Mo Hua had encouraged him so earnestly, yet he had backed down. The guilt gnawed at him.
His mother grew worried when she saw him like that.
"I told you to eat less, not to stop eating entirely."
"Mother, it's not that…" he said softly.
"You haven't eaten properly for days. Do you have something on your mind?"
An Xiaofu could not bring himself to say it.
She could not guess her son's thoughts and finally said, "At least eat first. You need strength to think things through."
He did not have much appetite, but after a few bites, he suddenly felt hungry again and ended up eating heartily.
Once full, his lost courage suddenly returned.
He declared solemnly, "Mother, I'm going!"
His mother stared blankly. What on earth was wrong with this child?
With a look of tragic resolve, An Xiaofu walked down the long corridor and finally stopped before his grandfather's study.
That short journey had nearly drained all his strength.
He stood for a long while, then clenched his teeth, closed his eyes, and stepped across the threshold.
Old Master An had long known his grandson was coming.
When the boy was little, carefree and innocent, he often came here to play.
But since the age of seven or eight, he had never voluntarily approached the study again.
Perhaps he had grown more sensible, or perhaps he had simply learned to read people's expressions.
Children may appear naïve, but they possess a sharp instinct, though often they themselves are unaware of it.
This time, for some reason, the boy had come alone once more.
Only now, he wore such a solemn, tragic expression, as if he were walking to his execution.
Old Master An felt a mix of emotions.
"I am still his grandfather," he thought. "At worst, I might scold him a few times. I won't eat him. Must he really be so frightened?"
An Xiaofu finally summoned his courage and stood before him.
"Xiaofu, what is it?"
Old Master An deliberately softened his tone.
An Xiaofu stammered for a long time before blurting out: "Grandfather, I… I want to open… a dining pavilion."
Old Master An frowned. "Doesn't the An family already have several?"
An Xiaofu trembled slightly but mustered his nerve. "I want to open my own."
"Why the sudden interest? Did someone put the idea in your head?" the old man asked evenly.
An Xiaofu, being loyal, did not mention Mo Hua. "No one. I just want to."
Old Master An raised an eyebrow. "And where will you get the funds and the building?"
"From you, Grandfather!" An Xiaofu said, with a trace of misplaced confidence.
Old Master An looked mildly surprised, then asked, "What about the dishes and recipes?"
"I already have a source."
"The stove?"
"I'll find someone to forge it."
"The array formations for the stove?"
"Mo Hua will draw them for me," An Xiaofu blurted out.
When it came to formations, Mo Hua was the only name that came to mind.
Old Master An immediately understood.
Yet he felt no displeasure, only relief.
If Mo Hua was helping his grandson, then whatever the boy was doing could only turn out well.
He pretended to ponder for a while without speaking.
An Xiaofu sat nervously, both excited and anxious, sweat beading on his round forehead.
At last, Old Master An nodded. "I agree."
An Xiaofu's eyes went wide with joy. "Really?"
Old Master An nodded again. "Go find your father. Whatever you need, tell him I approved it. He is not to refuse."
"Oh—oh!" An Xiaofu nodded rapidly and dashed out.
Halfway down the hall, he suddenly remembered something, ran back, and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Grandfather!"
Old Master An shook his head, half helpless, half amused. "Go on."
An Xiaofu ran out again, elated, his feet feeling light as if he were walking on clouds.
He found his father, An Yonglu, and repeated what his grandfather had said.
An Yonglu was startled. "Impossible."
"Grandfather agreed!"
An Xiaofu puffed out his chest, sounding quite righteous now.
An Yonglu doubted him, but he also knew his son lacked the nerve to tell such a big lie, especially one invoking the old master's name.
So, after An Xiaofu left happily, An Yonglu went straight to the old man.
"Father, about Xiaofu's matter…"
"Let him do it."
"But..."
"No buts. Opening a dining house doesn't cost many spirit stones. Since Mo Hua is willing to help him, it is worth it."
"Why would Mo Hua help XiaoFu?" An Yonglu looked puzzled.
"Probably because they have some connection," the old Master An replied indifferently, glancing at him. "Your son has more face with Mo Hua than you do. If you went to ask for help yourself, Mo Hua might not even respond."
An Yonglu gave an awkward laugh.
"But," he asked again, still confused, "why open a dining house?"
Though a dining house could earn spirit stones, it was certainly less profitable than a toolsmith or alchemist shop.
What exactly was Mo Hua aiming for in opening this establishment?
The old master could not quite figure it out. Although Mo Hua was a formation master, he was still a child after all.
Sometimes, one could never fully grasp what was in a child's mind.
"Most likely, it's just a bit of harmless fun," the old man sighed, then instructed An Yonglu, "Whatever Xiao Fu needs, give it to him. It's only a dining house. Let them do as they please. Consider it forming a good connection with that boy, Mo Hua."
An Yonglu nodded. "Yes, Father."
...
Gathering all his courage, An Xiaofu went to see his grandfather and made his request. His grandfather agreed. The dining house he wanted to open was finally settled.
Feeling he had completed his mission and lived up to Mo Hua's expectations, An Xiaofu breathed a deep sigh of relief.
That afternoon, he cheerfully went again to Mo Hua's family eatery.
Now that he had accomplished his task, he could face Mo Hua with pride.
Mo Hua praised him generously and treated him to a fine meal.
Deeply moved, An Xiaofu resolved to make up for all the days he had gone hungry before.
Then began the preparations for the dining house.
Compared to setting up a artifact refinery or alchemy workshop, establishing a dining house was much simpler.
The An family had opened many dining establishments before, so everything—from site selection to labor—was handled smoothly and efficiently. Mo Hua hardly needed to worry about anything.
The only thing he cared about was the stove, and the formation inscribed upon it.
The stove in the family eatery had been forged by Master Chen at Mo Hua's request, and the formation on it was drawn by Mo Hua himself.
However, at that time Mo Hua's formation skills had still been very basic. The stove was small, the flame weak, and its functions quite ordinary.
Mo Hua had suggested replacing it, but Liu Ruhua disagreed.
That stove had been used since the eatery first opened, and the formation upon it had been personally drawn by Mo Hua. She was long accustomed to it and did not wish to waste spirit stones replacing it.
But for the new dining house, the small stove would certainly not do. Mo Hua decided to forge a larger, first-grade stove.
He asked Master Chen for help, who immediately agreed.
Having already forged first-grade refining and alchemy furnaces, making a stove was hardly a challenge.
The forging blueprint was provided by Elder Yu, and the materials as well. Several refining masters worked together, and within a week, the stove was completed.
The finished stove stood as tall as two men, built of durable materials. Unlike refining or alchemy furnaces, its design carried fewer immortal embellishments and more of the warmth of mortal life.
It was of first-grade spiritual artifact quality.
Mo Hua was very pleased.
He then inscribed upon it a simplified version of the First-Grade Molten Fire Spiritual Control Composite Formation.
This formation allowed control over the intensity of the fire and included a cooling sub-array, though it contained only one First-Grade Molten Fire Array.
For cooking, that was entirely sufficient.
Too much firepower would only damage the stove.
Once the stove was completed, the dining house was also renovated.
Its location was not on North Street, but rather in the South Street district, where the rogue cultivators lived.
The An family already had their own spiritual dining house on North Street, so opening another there would serve no purpose. Moreover, Mo Hua preferred not to.
He wanted this dining house to provide affordable meat for rogue cultivators.
Naturally, it should be in the place where they gathered.
The establishment was named Fortune Dining House (Fúshàn Lóu), symbolizing a wish that every rogue cultivator in Tōngxiān City could have the good fortune to enjoy a hearty meal, because even in a hard life, good food could bring happiness.
Half of the Fortune Dining House belonged to An Xiaofu, and the other half to Mo Hua.
Mo Hua passed his share to his mother.
Liu Ruhua refused at first, but Mo Hua said: "Mother, what is mine is naturally yours. Please help me look after this dining house for now."
Unable to argue with him, Liu Ruhua agreed.
The recipes came from her, and the cooks worked under her guidance, though she did not need to labor personally. She only needed to oversee the eatery and experiment with new dishes from time to time.
An Xiaofu managed the daily operations.
As the An family's young master, he would be trained even if inexperienced. Minor mistakes in the beginning were unimportant, experience would polish him soon enough.
Kind-hearted and sincere by nature, An Xiaofu was well-suited for the restaurant business.
Moreover, having grown up in a family that ran dining houses, he would learn quickly and perform well.
This was precisely why Mo Hua invited both him and the An family to join the venture.
He did not wish for his mother to overwork herself.
Running an eatery was already tiring, let alone a dining house on a larger scale.
An Xiaofu, chubby and fond of food, could use the exercise, it might even help him slim down.
His mother, however, was frail and should not strain herself. It was enough for her to study recipes and occasionally cook something delicious.
Thus, she could pursue what she loved without overexertion.
Mo Hua had thought of everything.
(End of Chapter)