An Old Acquaintance

“Cock-a-doodle-doo—!” As the rooster’s crow rang out, the sleeping Niuxin Village gradually stirred.

After washing up came breakfast. Ordinary common folk couldn’t usually afford breakfast—except during the autumn harvest, when they needed the strength to reap, they’d eat three meals. On normal days, they ate only two.

But there was no such thing in Niuxin Village. Everyone had breakfast. That was one reason so many people were grateful to Bai Lingmiao.

Full meals to eat. Books to read. Even a share of the grain they grew in the fields. Where else in the world was there such a good master?

“Hurry! Get up now! The porridge at the top is the thickest—if you can’t even be arsed to get to a meal, what the hell will you ever be arsed to do in this life?” Lü Zhuangyuan kept slapping his eldest son’s door with his hand.

“Father, we have money now. Can’t we just cook at home?” Luo Juan, Lü Juren’s wife, was deeply unhappy about never getting to sleep in.

“Oh, so you’ve got money burning a hole in your pocket, have you? Free food right there, and you’d rather spend your own coin on grain! Wasteful brat—get your ass up!”

Gripping his tobacco pipe, he browbeat his daughter-in-law for a full round, then turned and went to pound on his apprentices’ doors.

He wasn’t kindly waking them up for a free breakfast; he was making them get up for basic drills.

Lü Zhuangyuan taught them exactly as his own master had taught him: strict and monotonous. If they didn’t train enough or train well, they didn’t eat.

To sing grand opera, you had to start training from childhood. These kids were already over ten; if they wanted to make anything of themselves, they had to work even harder.

Amid the apprentices’ pitchy voice-warming, Lü Zhuangyuan led his whole household in a great throng toward the Bai family compound.

Just as they entered the courtyard, they saw Yang Xiaohai directing two people carrying a cauldron of hot porridge into the main hall.

Lü Zhuangyuan had just forced a smile onto his face and started walking in when he caught sight of his rebellious son, Lü Xiucai, also inside. His face instantly dropped. “Hmph!”

He had beaten this youngest son, scolded him, but the bastard had dug in his heels—wouldn’t listen to a word.

Facing his father’s open hostility, Lü Xiucai muttered curses under his breath, throwing out words like “old turtle,” “just you wait,” and “one of these days.”

His purchased wife, Tao’er, stood silently behind him, watching both her father-in-law and her husband, something churning in her thoughts.

“Oh my, oh my, looks like everyone’s here.” The grating sound of Gouwa rang out, and the others saw him helping his heavily pregnant wife inside.

“That’s right. Any day now. She’s full-term. Should be within a few days. My son’s almost here.” Gouwa grinned at Lü Xiucai.

Lü Xiucai’s face showed a flicker of contempt. “Was I talking to you? What are you showing off for?”

“Heh heh heh.” Beaming, Gouwa helped his wife sit down, then walked over to Lü Xiucai and lowered his voice. “Scholar, how’s that divine ability coming along?”

“Same as before. Don’t know the characters, so it’s slow going. Why? You want to learn?”

Gouwa chuckled. “No way in hell I’m learning that stuff. Too much work. I’ll eat breakfast, take a stroll to digest, then wait for lunch.

“I’ve got someone else farming my four mu of land for me. I just wait for the harvest. Don’t have to do anything. Grain rolls in every year. Real easy. We’ve toughed out enough hardship—let me get some damned rest.”

After traveling north and south with Senior Brother Li for so long, he hadn’t picked up much else, but he’d gained some sense. There weren’t many freebies in this world, and divine abilities in particular—if you practiced the wrong one, the danger was real.

Truth was, what he really thought was: let a few months pass first. Once he saw whether this Lü Xiucai turned out fine, then he’d learn. That was something he’d learned from Senior Brother Li.

“Hmph. Eat and sleep, sleep and eat. No ambition!” Lü Xiucai sneered at Gouwa.

“Hey, no ambition, and I’ve got a son. You got one?”

While they were talking, Li Huowang and Bai Lingmiao came down the steps. The others immediately stopped talking and waited for him to sit.

Even though Li Huowang’s skin was gone and his appearance was a bit alarming, everyone there was used to it by now. They’d seen things scarier than this.

Once Li Huowang took his seat at the head of the table and picked up his chopsticks, the others finally started eating.

Li Huowang wolfed down steamed buns and porridge with pickled vegetables and salted eggs, taking big bites and eating a lot.

“Slow down. Were you a starving ghost in a past life? No one’s going to take it away from you.”

Li Huowang ignored Bai Lingmiao’s nagging and kept eating.

Once he started cultivating, a whole day would pass. If he didn’t eat his fill now, there’d be nothing for lunch.

“Hey, there aren’t any villains out to get you in Niuxin Village. How do you still end up covered in blood?” Bai Lingmiao picked at the blood scabs on his body.

“Better safe than sorry. Don’t worry, I won’t die.”

“Won’t die, but doesn’t it hurt? Are you addicted to pain? When I sleep next to you, getting up at night to pee gives me a damn fright.”

Under Bai Lingmiao’s endless chatter, Li Huowang finished breakfast in a hurry and walked out of the Bai family compound. Li Sui was already waiting outside.

The two of them, one tall and one short, started heading up the Niuxin Mountain along the winding path.

But just as he reached the edge of the village, white fog began to seep through the groves around him. Frowning, Li Huowang immediately grabbed the Purple-Tasseled Sword and jerked it partway out of its sheath. “Who’s there! Show yourself!”

The murderous aura surged upward, blasting the surrounding mist outward. The white fog rapidly dispersed, and a face beneath a wooden mask emerged from the haze.

“Well, well—talk about a flood washing out the Dragon King’s temple; a family who doesn’t know its own family! So it’s you, Erjiu!”

“Liu Zongyuan?” Li Huowang looked at the man in the wooden mask with some surprise. He remembered him. When he had gone with the Chief Recorder and Tuoba Danqing to find the Heart-Turbid, this man had been one of their party.

The world was fickle. Of the five who had set out together, the Chief Recorder was dead, the mind-blind monk Xinchisan was dead, Tuoba Danqing was trapped inside the Heart-Turbid and couldn’t get out. Only the two of them remained.

Meeting again, they shared a mix of rueful sighs and a hint of closeness.

Since Liu Zongyuan was here, Li Huowang naturally couldn’t go cultivate the truth. He immediately led the man into the reception room and served tea.

Taking a sip of his tea, Li Huowang asked with some curiosity, “Brother Liu, have you come all the way here today because the Supervisory Heavenly Office has some errand to assign?”

Even though Liu Zongyuan was also with the Office, Li Huowang didn’t think this had anything to do with the big incident in the capital. After all, back then he had used Bei Feng’s female body. No matter how they investigated, they couldn’t trace it back to him.

Liu Zongyuan’s next words quickly confirmed Li Huowang’s guess.

“Oh, I heard that someone was living here again. Thought it might be another White Lotus cult, so I came specially to have a look. Never expected to run into you here.”