Zhou Ming once again sank his consciousness into the center of his brows.

The Causality Web had experienced a continuous fracturing for a day and a night; the network that had originally been densely packed and covered his entire range of perception now showed large gaps, like mulberry leaves eaten by worms.

He roughly estimated that at least several hundred thousand Causal Chains had snapped.

Several hundred thousand—in just one day and night, several hundred thousand Causal Chains had completely vanished from the center of his brows.

At the fracture points, faint glimmers still remained, like the last embers left after stars are extinguished, which would dissipate before long.

Zhou Ming sat on the low couch, silent for a good while.

Hundreds of thousands of people had died on the battlefield; that kind of tragedy did not need to be seen with one's own eyes—the number itself was already shocking enough.

He just didn't know which side had won.

Had the Zongsheng Sect breached An Province, or had the Great Xia Dynasty held the capital?

The Commanders Residence had not yet received the latest military reports, and in this remote side room, he had no way to inquire.

Zhou Ming shook his head; regardless of which side won, it was a good thing for him.

At the very least, it was he himself who had been forcibly pushed to the Golden Core Stage by this war.

Thinking of this, Zhou Ming withdrew his consciousness from the Causality Web and looked inward at his Dantian.

That purple Golden Core hung quietly in the center of his Dantian, with Dao patterns flowing, and with every breath, it exhaled and inhaled extremely pure magic power.

He could feel that no one in the entire North Town was his opponent.

It wasn't that he overestimated himself, but after his Divine Sense covered a radius of one thousand meters, everyone's cultivation in front of him was like a candle flame compared to the bright moon.

The combat power of those generals at the Bone Forging Stage was already enough to Face ten thousand enemies in an ordinary army, but in front of his purple Golden Core, they didn't even have the qualifications to make him take them seriously.

Of course, this was only in terms of cultivation.

In terms of actual combat, he had never personally gone into battle to fight for his life, and he himself didn't know how much he could exert when it came to real blades and guns.

Zhou Ming stood up, stretched his muscles and bones, and began to pace in the small side room.

He was thinking about a question.

Should he continue to stay by Empress Su Mingyue's side?

Continuing to stay by Empress Su Mingyue's side, his status was that of a Kitchen manager and half a staff officer.

He didn't have much freedom; wherever the Young Miss went, he had to follow.

It was he who was shaken to pieces when changing horses, and it was also he who had to force himself to stay awake while exhausted from traveling through the night.

Occasionally, if he said the wrong thing, he had to worry about whether he would be drilled by Dongmei again.

But there was one major benefit to staying here:

He could keep track of the changes in the world's situation at all times.

The defense layout of the Northern Border, the movements of the Zongsheng Sect, the actions of the Great Yuan Dynasty, and the waxing and waning of various forces.

When he was a Kitchen manager in the Marquis's Mansion, he could only rely on eavesdropping on others' whispers to get this news.

But beside Empress Su Mingyue, he could have first-hand access to military reports, maps, intelligence from all sides, and front-line battle conditions.

This was crucial for the spread of the Dushi Sutra and for his own judgment.

If he ran off to be carefree, with his current cultivation at the Golden Core Stage, he could just squat on any unoccupied mountain, and no one could control him.

But in that case, he would completely become blind and deaf.

He wouldn't know which province had been occupied, which country had started a war, or whose hands the scriptures had reached.

After thinking about it, he decided to forget it.

He had already gotten used to staying by Empress Su Mingyue's side.

In the future, listening to military reports every day with the Young Miss, looking at maps, and directing the cooks in the Kitchen to cook—this kind of life was actually not bad.

Moreover, he also wanted to see if Empress Su Mingyue, whom he had tricked with the story of a woman becoming an emperor, could really ascend to the position of Empress.

This thought was somewhat improper, but that was indeed what he was thinking.

Zhou Ming cast these thoughts to the back of his mind, walked to the door, pulled open the latch, and pushed the door open to go out.

Outside the room, the daylight was just right; the sun was hanging brightly overhead, and the old locust trees in the backyard of the Commanders Residence were rustling in the wind.

Zhou Ming took a deep breath of the cold air of the northern border, and before he could exhale it, he ran into Dongmei Face-to-Face.

Dongmei was standing under the eaves, her arms crossed over her chest.

Seeing Zhou Ming push the door and come out, she first looked him up and down to confirm he wasn't missing any arms or legs, then glared and said fiercely:

"I thought you had died inside, and I was just about to go in and collect your corpse."

Zhou Ming laughed: "Does Sister Dongmei hope I die that much? It's a pity that my life is tough, and I made it through, haha..."

"Tough life, my foot." Dongmei didn't give him any Face.

"If you hadn't Cultivated the Dushi Sutra, you would have probably died on the road by now; with those thin arms and legs of yours, you can't even ride a horse steadily."

As she spoke, she looked him up and down again, as if to confirm he was really okay, and then the conversation changed, her tone becoming as sharp and fast as her sword technique,

"Go, go, go, come with me to the Kitchen. What kind of stuff are the cooks here making? Not only is the Young Miss not used to eating it, I'm not used to it either."

Zhou Ming opened his mouth, cursing inwardly.

He was a Kitchen manager in the Marquis's Mansion, and after traveling thousands of miles to the northern border, he still had to manage the Kitchen—was he destined to be stuck with the Kitchen for the rest of his life?

Speaking of the Kitchen, Zhou Ming remembered that he hadn't eaten for a day and a night.

He touched his stomach; he wasn't hungry. With his current Golden Core Stage cultivation, he wouldn't feel any discomfort even if he didn't eat for ten days or half a month.

But he couldn't stand the feeling of an empty stomach; that empty feeling of his stomach shrinking had nothing to do with cultivation—it was purely an old psychological habit.

Arriving at the Commanders Residence's Kitchen, Zhou Ming frowned as soon as he entered the door.

This Kitchen was much larger than the one in the Begonia Court of the Marquis's Mansion, but the stove was covered in a thick layer of grease, and the Kitchen knives on the chopping board were placed helter-skelter.

In the corner, a few baskets of radishes and cabbage were leaning together, wilted and drooping, clearly delivered several days ago.

Several cooks were busy around the stove, their techniques crude, and the meat slices they cut were uneven in thickness.

Zhou Ming didn't say a word, rolled up his sleeves, and began to direct them.

Although he wouldn't do the cooking himself, he knew how to talk.

Having stayed by Liu Sandao's side for over a month, he watched him cook every morning and listened to him talk about heat control and ingredient pairing every afternoon.

Although he had never personally held the ladle, he had learned most of Liu Sandao's cooking skills.

Liu Sandao was particular about cutting meat slices along the grain with a slanted knife, so he made the cooks cut them again.

Liu Sandao was particular about stewing soup with a rolling boil on high heat and a slow simmer on low heat, so he made the cooks take out two pieces of firewood from the stove.

The cooks were thrown into confusion by his directions; those cutting vegetables had to re-cut, those tending the fire had to re-tend, and those seasoning had to re-season.

When the first dish came out, Zhou Ming picked up his chopsticks and tasted it; although the taste didn't reach Liu Sandao's level and was a bit worse than expected, it was already much better than the coarse military rations from before.