I Awakened to a Farming TALENT

## Chapter 30: Anonymous Bounty

Half an hour later, Jiang Tingyun’s pace finally slowed down.

She patted her belly contentedly. “Full, full. I really can’t eat another bite.”

There was still quite a bit of meat left on the table, but with Pei Jingmo around, she never had to worry about waste.

The BBQ was delicious, but it wasn’t very filling. After Pei Jingmo finished everything, he even ordered an extra plate of fried rice.

Jiang Tingyun watched him devour the food like a storm and said helplessly, “Slow down. You’ll choke.”

For some reason, even though she’d enjoyed the BBQ today, looking at Pei Jingmo made her mood suddenly dip. A thread of worry crept into her heart.

As the sect master, how was she supposed to solve her senior disciple’s appearance problem?

Because his appearance hadn’t changed in over a decade and didn’t match his ID age, Pei Jingmo had no friends outside of the Qionghua Sect and couldn’t easily leave or go farther away.

In contrast, even though she’d been an overworked office drone in the big city, she’d eaten at delicious restaurants, traveled to different places, and seen a larger, wider world.

Even if she’d now returned to this small town, it was because she’d chosen to come back.

But Pei Jingmo simply couldn’t leave.

Usually, everyone in the Qionghua Sect deliberately forgot about this problem and never mentioned it in front of Pei Jingmo, afraid of hurting him.

She thought it over, weighing her words carefully, then said, “Little Pei, about your appearance…”

Pei Jingmo suddenly stopped eating. The next second, he looked down. “It is what it is. It’s not like it’s a bad thing.”

Jiang Tingyun said, “I saw in Grandpa’s notebook that he once wrote to the Xuanmen Mutual Aid Association and posted an anonymous bounty to find a way to restore your appearance.”

It was only later, when she’d gone through the notebook carefully, that she learned there was an organization in the modern cultivation world called the Xuanmen Mutual Aid Association.

Rumor had it that at the Association’s location, you could post bounties, and cultivators could take on missions for rewards. There was also a trading hall where cultivators could barter, exchange ideas, and spar.

But where exactly was this place? Grandpa’s notebook had only one sentence:

**【No. 33, Changping Street, Thirty-Three Caverns of Mount Ziggai. Only those with affinity may enter.]**

Jiang Tingyun had searched all over the national map and couldn’t find this place. She’d asked at the post office, and they said the address was made up—it didn’t exist.

Jiang Tingyun didn’t understand what counted as “having affinity.” All she could do was follow Grandpa’s example and write a letter to drop into a mailbox.

“I raised the reward for Grandpa’s bounty by twenty times. Maybe someone will be interested,” Jiang Tingyun added.

As the farmhouse restaurant made more money, she would keep raising the bounty.

She believed that someone, somewhere, would have a solution.

Since she had inherited Grandpa’s legacy and agreed to take over Qionghua Sect, she would shoulder the responsibility of being sect master.

Pei Jingmo was silent for a moment, then said, “Thank you.”

Seeing the mood turn somber, Jiang Tingyun quickly tried to lighten things up. “Aiya, enough about that. Look how crowded it still is at this hour.”

She pretended to look around casually.

Suddenly, she spotted a familiar figure sitting at the next table, eating skewers alone.

The man was dressed oddly—wearing a cap despite the heat, and he wouldn’t take his mask off even while eating. He’d take a bite, pull the mask down, then pull it back up.

But Jiang Tingyun’s sharp eyes caught a few strands of blond hair peeking out from under the cap, and those smiling, crescent-shaped eyes.

*Isn’t that Jin Feifan?*

“What a coincidence! You’re here eating skewers too!” She slapped the man’s shoulder hard.

The man was almost panicked. He shot to his feet, nearly knocking over the table.

When she saw his face, Jiang Tingyun was surprised to realize she’d mistaken him for someone else. This man had bigger eyes, a more aquiline nose, and was fairer than Jin Feifan.

Maybe it was the blond hair that made her misidentify him.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Jiang Tingyun was annoyed at herself for making such a mistake. She quickly apologized and bent down to help straighten the table.

The man’s first action, however, was to pull his cap and mask back into perfect place. His tone was almost pleading.

“Do you want an autograph? I can give you one, but please don’t post online that I came here to eat BBQ.”

Xu Zijun truly felt like crying. He was already so disguised—how had a fan still recognized him?

He’d been gaining popularity lately. His agent had signed him for a major IP drama, playing the second male lead—an ethereally beautiful junior disciple.

The role was basically just for looks; it didn’t require much acting, just good looks.

His agent had ordered him to continue losing weight during filming—at least five more pounds—so that he’d look ethereal in costume.

But he was starving and was craving meat. His assistant had been f*******n by the agent to order takeout. He’d had to make an excuse about discussing the script with a crew member and sneak out to this street for BBQ.

Yet despite all that, he’d been recognized!

Just imagining the scene if it got posted online and his agent saw him sneaking out alone late at night to eat skewers… he didn’t dare think about it.

As soon as Jiang Tingyun heard “autograph,” she realized—this man must be a celebrity.

*How exciting!* She’d never seen a real-life celebrity before. But she hadn’t followed entertainment news in so long that she truly couldn’t recognize who he was.

She didn’t bother to correct him that she’d mistaken him for someone else. Smiling, she said, “I won’t post it online. So give me an autograph, okay?”

Xu Zijun looked around nervously. He’d spoken too hastily. Actually, he didn’t want to give one—it would leave evidence.

“Next time, maybe? I don’t seem to have any paper or pen.”

Jiang Tingyun calmly pulled out a pen and paper from her pocket. “Here you go. Thanks, big star.”

She’d brought them today to jot down ingredient notes.

“………”

*She really came prepared to ambush me—carrying paper and pen and everything.*

Miserably, he scribbled his name “Xu Zijun” in a flamboyant scrawl on the paper. Then he repeatedly urged, “Whatever you do, don’t post online that I came here for BBQ!”

Jiang Tingyun swore to the heavens. “I absolutely, positively will not post it anywhere.”

*After all, I don’t even know who you are.*

After a moment’s thought, she added, “Sorry for scaring you like that. I run a farmhouse restaurant near the film studio, called Qionghua Restaurant. Come eat sometime—I’ll give you a free meal.”

The man nodded vaguely, handed back the pen and paper, then quickly disappeared into the crowd.

“Why is he in such a hurry?”

Jiang Tingyun looked excitedly at the autograph on the paper.

“……… ‘Er Niu’ something? I can’t read the last two characters.”

*But why would anyone have the surname ‘Er Niu’?* (In Chinese, “Er Niu” is not a surname; she was misreading the sloppy signature.)