Even though Shizun was gorgeous, good looks couldn’t be eaten as a meal.
Every day he was either drinking jade dew or chewing medicinal pills; his mouth had grown completely numb and bland from the lack of flavor. Even though he wasn’t hungry, he was craving good food.
Freezing…
Break!
Good grief! After half a month of pondering and Shizun’s guidance, he had actually managed to master it he could now produce ice with his bare hands! He was a walking, human-sized giant refrigerator.
Simply incredible.
A tiny, delicate icicle formed right in the palm of his hand. Beaming with joy, he dashed toward the quiet Shizun standing nearby, rushing over like a chatterbox to present his treasure.
“Shizun! Shizun! Shizun!”
“Look! Look! Look!”
The little bell hanging from his hair gave off a rapid, crisp jingle as he panted heavily for breath.
“I succeeded, it’s ice.”
To him, it was like acquiring a priceless treasure, even though it was nothing more than an insignificant, failed little trial.
He couldn’t quite fathom why he was glowing with such happiness over it.
Watching him bounce around in such a messy, foolish manner, his crystal-clear eyes brimming with joy and exuberance at that moment, Bai Chen hadn’t the heart to put a damper on his spirits.
“Mn, not bad.”
Having received the strongest affirmation in the entire world, perhaps he truly did possess a natural gift for cultivation. The little deer inside his heart was running wild with delight; if he had a tail, it would have already wagged straight up into the sky.
“However, this little bit is still far from enough. You must continue to build your foundations step by step, and you must never slack off or grow lazy.”
Bai Chen’s expression remained calm and composed, his voice clear and mellow like bubbling stream water.
Shizun looked stunning, so whatever he said was right. Quietly, Tu Xiao listened as he continued.
“Xiao, you cannot indulge in play and merrymaking, wasting away your time. Since you said you wanted to protect yourself and the people around you, you must follow through with it.”
“This master will help you, taking care of every single detail for you, attending to everything personally, and instructing you with utmost care. So, let’s start with biggu (abstaining from grains) to temper your state of mind, so that you can remain utterly focused during your cultivation.”
Biggu? The heavens and the earth were vast, but eating was the greatest matter of all!
He hadn’t even tried out all the delicacies in the dining hall yet; Granny changed up her menu’s culinary styles every single day, making everything delicious and appetizing. He practically never missed a day four meals a day, three bowls per meal.
Ever since he started sticking close to Shizun lately, he had already cut his intake in half. He had been exercising quite a bit of restraint.
One second he was still feeling the breeze and the mountain stream, and the very next second felt like a bolt out of the blue.
He had to protest.
Being single-minded was fine, but being single-minded without a bite of rice to eat was an absolute no-go!
“Abstain from grains? I refuse to abstain from grains!”
A cold glint flashed in Bai Chen’s eyes, and right on cue, Tu Xiao saw tree branches materializing right above his head the flesh that had been lashed yesterday still throbbed with a dull, lingering ache.
Lowering the volume of his voice, Tu Xiao knew that Shizun responded better to softness than harshness, so he resorted to a pitiful, pleading tone.
“Shizun, but abstaining from grains leaves me both starving and craving food, it’s terribly uncomfortable.”
“To temper your skin and flesh, labor your tendons and bones, starve your body, and empty your frame. You must understand, Xiao, that cultivation is not achieved overnight. Even the tiniest fraction of a stray, idle thought must not be tolerated.”
Shizun’s words made sense, but how on earth could a human being endure starvation? Unwilling as he was, acting this way would displease Shizun, and he didn’t want to disappoint or upset Shizun, but…
“Shizun is so stern. Shizun… doesn’t care about me anymore.”
After all, he still possessed the mindset of a child, and this was right at the age for eating, drinking, and playing. Watching the person curl up into a ball in front of him, Bai Chen ultimately reined in his spiritual energy, causing the suspended branches to drop softly onto the ground.
The anticipated pain never landed on his body. Instead, the sound of a light object dropping and the rustle of clothing shifting as someone rose to their feet reached his ears.
Tu Xiao raised his head. Shizun was standing right before him in profile, his tall figure blocking out a portion of the light. That side profile cast in shadow made it impossible to read whether he was pleased or not, though chances were he wasn’t happy.
“Practice on your own terms from now on; this master will no longer intervene.”
His goal had been achieved, but why did it feel like this? Did Shizun mean to leave him to fend for himself in a hands-off manner? That hadn’t been his original intention at all.
Tu Xiao felt as though a thousand-jin weight was pressing down upon his heart, leaving him stuffy and deeply unsettled. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of the trailing corner of Shizun’s robe fluttering across the back of his hand.
“Shizun, I was wrong. I’ll abstain from grains, I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t stop paying attention to your disciple.”
“Xiao is still young; if you’re unwilling, then you’re unwilling. Shizun has some matters to attend to outside for a bit.”
“Is that so? I know Shizun has my best interests at heart…”
Shizun was the very first person he had laid eyes on in this world, and also the most familiar person to him. If Shizun were to completely ignore him from this point onward…
“I…”
He inwardly felt at a complete loss for what to do, as if his heart had been flooded with water, threatening to overflow and breach its banks through his eye sockets at any moment. That would be far too embarrassing, so he bit down hard on his lip, leveraging the sharp pain to suppress the tumbling emotions inside his heart.
How could he dare disobey Shizun’s words? Just because he was a glutton!
“Punish me then, Shizun. Xiao shouldn’t have talked back to Shizun.” He gave a light, restrained tug on Shizun’s robe.
“Why would I punish you?” Bai Chen’s tone wasn’t framed as a question, but rather stated as a flat fact.
He hadn’t done anything wrong; if there was something he was unwilling to do, then he simply wouldn’t do it there was nothing worthy of punishment. Besides, Bai Chen didn’t have the habit of punishing his own disciples. As long as his disciple was happy and joyful, that was enough; with him around anyway, nobody would dare bully the kid.
Earlier, Immortal Xianweng had invited him over via sound transmission; it wasn’t any sort of pressing, urgent matter, nothing more than sharing a newly brewed batch of wine or some interesting tidbits.
Dealing with a child was a first for him: treat it too lightly, and the kid wouldn’t learn properly; treat it too harshly, and the kid would alternate between learning and crying. It was better to just let him do as he pleased so he wouldn’t end up looking at him with reddened, tearful eye sockets looking heartbroken.
Why was he still looking so heartbroken even though he wasn’t being punished? Those flushed, tear-rimmed eyes looked rather glaringly pitiful; he still preferred how those eyes looked when they were bright and sparkling.
“Turn around and kneel down; that will count as your punishment.”
“Alright!”
The fact that Shizun was still willing to punish him meant that he was still willing to keep him in line.
Tu Xiao dropped swiftly to his knees, keeping his hands tucked behind his back with his spine held rigidly straight and his chin lifted, presenting an overall impression of extreme obedience and high submissiveness.
It was a stark contrast to his earlier behavior of raising his voice and locking horns with Shizun.
“Shizun, when will you be back?”
Normally, whenever Shizun went over to Xianweng’s place, it took anywhere from a single month to half a year. Ever since he had memories, Xianweng had always been there; during that chaotic great battle between immortals and demons, only he and Xianweng had survived.
As the sole elder figure he knew, he would naturally heed Xianweng’s words.
“Unknown.”
With those words, Shizun had already vanished without a trace. Coming and going like a phantom, his Shizun was simply extraordinary.
His eyelids felt terribly heavy, and he was growing rather tired…
When he opened his eyes again, he was jolted awake by the rumbling growl of his own stomach. It was dusk once more. He had wandered sluggishly all over Jingzi Mountain, only to find that Shizun still hadn’t returned. Originally, he had wanted to ask for permission, but Shizun wasn’t around.
It seemed he really had puffed Shizun away in anger.
Very few people were able to enter or leave Jingzi Mountain only a sparse few. Previously there had only been Shizun, and now one more person: himself.
He was going to starve to death, and nobody would even notice. To avoid leaving a lingering smell that would displease Shizun upon his return, he cleaned every single room and courtyard on Jingzi Mountain inside and out, before cautiously slipping past the barrier and heading down to the dining hall.
There were even fewer people in the dining hall during the evening hours. Furthermore, very few people on Xinjing Mountain actually ate meals; everyone was tall and slender, dressed exclusively in white or black if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the entire Xinjing Mountain was holding a mass funeral.
Dressed in mourning clothes.
Taking a look at what he was wearing himself, how was he any different?
The dining hall was vast, and looking out as far as the eye could see, it was filled with rows of empty tables and chairs that were never once fully occupied. Further inside stood rows of jade platters, behind which lay the kitchen equipped with several giant cauldrons. During the daytime, you could catch Granny cooking meals; Granny using immortal arts to cook was downright awesome, akin to performing a magnificent, dazzling magic trick with absolute perfection in color, aroma, and taste.
When he first saw it, it left him utterly tongue-tied and dumbfounded, managing six cauldrons all by herself she was simply too incredible. If Xinjing Mountain were a corporation, Granny would definitely win the Best Employee Award, not to mention the fact that Granny ran the entire dining hall all by her lonesome.
The jade platters were already mostly bare of dishes, so Tu Xiao didn’t bother grabbing a bowl; instead, he simply hugged a jade platter directly to scoop up the remaining portions: stir-fried mutton with onions, triple-mixed vegetarian assortment, deep-fried green vegetables, and tofu-bamboo shoot-pork broth…
Meat dishes were virtually nonexistent; he suspected Granny had grown lazy.
Judging by the bird-like appetites of those other fellows who basically never touched meat dishes, if meat had been cooked, there definitely wouldn’t have been a single scrap left over.
He was starving to death either way, so whatever he ate would taste delicious. Since there wasn’t any meat, beggars couldn’t be choosers.