Chapter 151

151. You’re All Not Human

The second that shiny little dialog popped up—“Congratulations on completing the task! Claim your reward?”—I stared at it like it owed me rent. There were three buttons: “Yes,” “No,” and “View Reward.”

Naturally, I clicked “View Reward.” I’m not a maniac.

The screen expanded into a neat feeding chart, like one of those game tutorials disguised as a quest. It detailed everything—each animal’s daily menu, special care for the sick or pregnant, even which meats should be rotated. Lions get beef or pork, sometimes duck or chicken for variety. Very balanced. Very gourmet.

And apparently, it all just… auto-appears in the warehouse. Magic. System magic. I could even choose which warehouse.

Still processing the absurdity, I tapped to claim the reward—and bam, a table of names and numbers dropped in. I sprinted to the warehouse.

And what did I find?

Barrels.

Huge, shiny, real-life barrels labeled stuff like “Lion No. 1” and “Peacock No. 1.” Filled to the brim with food. It was uncanny how perfectly the labels matched the table.

Then my eyes landed on that barrel.

“Three-Legged Golden Crow No. 1.”

I froze. “Lu Ya has his own feed bucket?”

Honestly, I half expected it to contain molten lava or crushed phoenix bones or something equally extra. But no—beef. And cabbage.

Cabbage!

I hauled the thing outside like some cursed delivery man. Lu Ya saw it instantly, read the label, and flared up like a cat that’d just been stepped on.

“You dare!” he screeched. “Don’t even think I’ll eat that!”

“Oh?” I said, lifting the lid and sniffing the beef. Not bad. In fact… really good. Better than the overpriced boxed meals I’d been choking down for days. If Lu Ya wasn’t gonna eat it…

Well.

I headed to the kitchen, chopped the cabbage into strips, sliced the beef, and whipped up a quick stir-fry. Dorm-level skills, but it smelled divine. Only thing missing was rice. So I grabbed a bowl and jogged off to the nearby Haijiao Park restaurant to mooch a serving.

Took me five minutes. Tops.

I walked back into the kitchen, ready to dig in, only to find—

Lu Ya. By the stove.

Scooping beef into his mouth like it was his last meal.

We locked eyes.

“…”

“…”

“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR DIGNITY?!” I shouted. “What about the great humiliation? The fasting? You said you weren’t gonna eat it!”

He turned red. Legitimately red. “This is my ration,” he huffed. “Are you trying to steal my food now?”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted rice.”

A beat. Then: “…Yes.”

So that’s how the legendary Golden Crow ended up holding a plate of stir-fried beef and cabbage, calmly eating rice like some exhausted bachelor. I stood there in shock.

Worse, he wasn’t even planning to leave me a bite.

My stomach growled. Loudly.

Lu Ya ignored it.

“Master,” I said sweetly, “can I have a taste of the beef?”

“No.”

Cold as ice. “This is my daily ration. If I share, I won’t have enough.”

Excuse me?

“Didn’t you just say you’ve been fasting for years?”

His eyes narrowed. “Today is different.”

Because of the ambience, apparently.

I lost it. “You absolute stingy bird! Does your cultivation level suck the generosity right out of you?! The stronger you get, the smaller your heart?!”

He roared, “How dare you threaten this sovereign?!”

Boom. Flames sparked out of nowhere. The kitchen heated up like an oven on broil. Even the air shimmered. Great—now he was showing off.

I muttered, “Oh no, I’m terrified. I’m just starving.”

That seemed to cool him down. Literally. The flames flickered out. I grabbed a spoon, scooped a piece of beef into his plate, and quietly stole a few bites for myself.

Holy. Hell.

It was good. Not just good—heavenly. Tender, flavorful, rich. Even the cabbage tasted like it had been grown in fairy soil.

“Where did you get this beef?” I asked. “Do they sell it online?”

Lu Ya chuckled darkly. “You can’t buy it. It’s from the Immortal Realm.”

Oh.

Right.

Of course.

Mortal food? Trash. Spiritual dimension farm-to-table? Divine.

I put down my spoon with a heavy sigh. “I should’ve been a lion.”

He stared at me and said, “That’s enough.”

Fine.

Anyway, from that moment on, I took feeding duties very seriously. When the part-time villagers showed up to help, I guarded the feed barrels like they were treasure chests. Because they were.

The villagers didn’t get it. “Is this even high quality?” one of them asked, eyeing the cabbage like it was pigweed.

But the animals knew.

The lions were practically drooling fifty meters away. When the meat got close, they shoved against the fences like groupies at a rock concert. And when the meat dropped? Instant pounce. Devoured.

The villagers blinked. “Why’s it so hungry today?”

Yeah. You tell me.

Even the monkeys were glowing. Literally. I didn’t know if it was real or just psychological, but the zoo was starting to feel alive.

…Which was when things got weird again.

“Sister, I understand,” I said, nodding to the street official—right before one of the Taoist priests pulled me aside.

Shao Wuxing leaned in with serious eyes. “There’s a demon in your zoo.”

Oh boy.

“Powerful one,” he added. “We need your cooperation.”

I squinted. “You’re pushing feudal superstition again. Should I report you?”

They looked baffled. “We’re not a cult! Linshui Temple is a model unit for spiritual civilization!”

“Right. And I’m the reincarnation of Confucius.”

They offered to “open my third eye.” I said, “What are you gonna do, blow powder in my face and get my bank info?”

By then, even Jiang Wushui was annoyed. “Then what do you want us to do?”

“I don’t know. How about… leave me alone?”

That’s when their youngest, Luo Wuzhou, suddenly shouted, “He’s possessed! I’ll exorcise him!”

And lunged.

I screamed, vaulted over the ticket rail, and yelled at Xu Wen, “CALL THE POLICE!”

Luo Wuzhou jumped the fence like a martial arts movie extra. I ran like my life depended on it. Because it kind of did.

“LU GE!!” I yelled.

Lu Ya emerged from the nearby exhibit, instantly at my side. I ducked behind him. “He’s trying to brainwash me!”

Luo Wuzhou tried to open Lu Ya’s third eye.

Bad idea.

Lu Ya calmly summoned a glowing weapon, aimed it at the monk’s forehead, and—

I panicked. But instead of blood, Luo Wuzhou just… stopped. Zoned out. Crossed his legs. Sat down to meditate.

The others arrived, saw the sword, and promptly knelt. “E-elder…”

Lu Ya said nothing. Just waved them away.

And off we went.

Later, in the control room, I watched footage of them carrying the meditating monk away like a lawn statue.

“What did you do to him?” I asked.

“Just made him think I’m a Buddhist layman,” Lu Ya said smugly. “They won’t bother us again.”

I choked on my tea laughing.

Clever bird.

Too clever.