This Red Kite Immortal, who had lived for thousands of years and was the guardian hero of Shenzhou, was now squatting in a Vegetable Garden, holding a freshly dug potato as if it were some precious treasure.
The scene was a bit jarring, yet…
strangely harmonious.
“Master,” Arthur suddenly spoke.
“Don’t you think our days are going quite well?”
Fu Hua looked up at him.
“I mean, you still go out to slay demons from time to time, but you also plant vegetables, cook, and practice your martial arts,” Arthur said while digging up potatoes, his tone as casual as if he were chatting about the nice weather.
“Working at sunrise and resting at sunset.
Going down the mountain when you feel like it, or staying in the house if you don’t.
It’s so carefree.”
Fu Hua didn’t say anything, but simply continued digging for potatoes.
One cluster, two clusters, three clusters.
Soon, a small pile of golden-yellow potatoes stacked up at their feet, glowing warmly in the morning light.
“Yes,” Fu Hua said suddenly, her voice very soft.
Arthur’s digging motion paused.
He looked at Fu Hua.
Fu Hua was also looking at him, some emotion slowly flowing within her azure eyes.
“It is quite good,” she repeated, then lowered her head to continue digging.
Arthur stood there, hoe still in hand, watching Fu Hua’s back as she squatted on the ground digging for a long time.
The mountain breeze blew past, bringing the rustling sound of bamboo leaves.
Birds chirped in the distance, their songs crisp and pleasant.
The warm sunlight spilled over them, and the air held the fresh scent of soil and plants.
Everything was so peaceful, so…
real.
Arthur suddenly felt that if time could stop forever at this moment, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
Forget being a Deliverer, forget the Imaginary Tree, and forget task rewards.
None of that was important anymore.
What mattered was this moment, this place, this person, and this heart.
He took a deep breath, then smiled and continued swinging his hoe.
“Master, this year’s potato harvest is great; we can eat them for quite a while.
Let me think…
potato stewed with chicken, hot and sour potato shreds, potato pancakes, mashed potatoes…
Oh right, we can also dry some potato slices to make soup in the winter.”
He rambled on in a lighthearted tone.
Fu Hua listened quietly, occasionally giving a soft “Mhm” to show she was listening.
With one talking and the other listening, they finished digging up the entire row of potatoes in the morning light.
It was a bountiful harvest, filling two whole baskets.
Carrying the heavy baskets, Arthur’s heart was filled with an indescribable sense of fulfillment.
On the way back, he suddenly remembered something.
“By the way, Master, I need to head down the mountain this afternoon to buy some salt and thread.
Is there anything you’d like me to bring back?”
Fu Hua thought for a moment.
“osmanthus cake from Wangs Shop in town,” she said.
Arthur smiled.
“Got it, I remember.
The kind with extra honey.”
Fu Hua gave a soft “Mhm.”
When they returned to the Bamboo House, Arthur poured the potatoes under the eaves to dry, while Fu Hua went to the well to wash her hands. Read this novel at novelping dot com for the best experience.
Arthur watched her roll up her sleeves, revealing her fair wrists, as she carefully washed the mud from her hands with the cool well water.
The scene was so mundane, so ordinary—so ordinary that it made one’s heart soften.
“Master,” Arthur said suddenly, “Thank you.”
Fu Hua looked up at him, a bit puzzled.
“Thank me for what?”
“Thank you for…” Arthur paused, organizing his words.
“Thank you for letting me stay here, and thank you for…
spending days like this with me.”
He spoke earnestly, his emerald eyes devoid of their usual jest or calculation, showing only a clear sincerity.
Fu Hua’s hand-washing paused.
The water splashed, and the moss by the well was damp.
After a long silence, she whispered, “I am the one who should say thank you.”
Arthur was stunned.
Fu Hua had finished washing her hands.
She dried them with a cloth, turned around, and looked at him.
In the morning light, her face looked exceptionally soft.
“These past two years,” she said, her voice soft but every word clear.
“Have been very good.”
She said nothing more and turned back toward the Quiet Chamber he had built for her next to the Bamboo House last year.
Arthur stood under the eaves, watching her back disappear behind the door, not moving for a long time.
That emotion surged up again, more turbulent than before.
He raised his hand and pressed it against his chest.
There, something was quietly changing.
[worldline Restoration Progress: 25.1%]
The system prompt arrived quietly.
Arthur looked at the numbers and suddenly smiled.
As he smiled, his eyes felt a bit stinging.
“Really…” he whispered to himself, “living like this for too long makes a person go soft.”
He shook his head, suppressing those chaotic emotions, and began sorting the freshly dug potatoes.
He was making potato stewed with chicken for lunch.
He had to prep the chicken, peel and cube the potatoes, soak the dried mushrooms…
There was still a long way to go.
He wanted to keep living days like this.
Forever.
Inside the Quiet Chamber, Fu Hua sat in meditation with her eyes closed, but the lake of her heart was not as calm as usual.
Just now in the Vegetable Garden, the moment she held the potato, a very unfamiliar emotion had suddenly welled up within her.
It wasn’t sorrow, nor joy, nor loneliness, nor responsibility.
It was a very simple…
contentment.
Yes, contentment.
Watching the golden fruits being dug from the earth, thinking about the hot meal she would eat at noon, and listening to that child ramble in her ear about all the ways to eat potatoes.
It was very ordinary, very trivial, very…
human.
But it was precisely this ordinary and trivial human life that brought a long-lost warmth to her heart, which had been silent for too long.
She remembered many, many years ago, back when she was still called ‘Hua,’ she had also lived such simple days.
Later, everything changed.
Time had worn away too many things, grinding her into a hard’stone’ that existed only for the sake of responsibility.
But then this child came.
Bringing with him his seemingly frivolous ‘mundane thoughts,’ his strange ‘clever ideas,’ and his assertive drive to ‘live a life.’
He had stubbornly carved out a Vegetable Garden and built a home on this cold Tai Xu Mountain.
Then, bit by bit, he pulled her out of that ancient loneliness.
Allowing her to feel the warmth of the sun again, the aroma of food, and the joy of harvest.
Allowing her to…
live like a human being again.
Fu Hua slowly opened her eyes and looked out the window.
Through the bamboo window, she could see Arthur’s busy figure under the eaves.
He was squatting there peeling potatoes, his movements practiced, and he seemed to be humming that perpetually out-of-tune song.
The sunlight fell on the golden tips of his hair, making them sparkle.
Fu Hua watched him for a long time.
Then, very, very softly, she let out a sigh.
In that sigh, there was no helplessness or sadness.
Only a nearly tender and complex emotion.
“Days like this…” she whispered to herself, her voice as light as a sigh.
“Are indeed very good.”
She closed her eyes again, and this time, the lake of her heart finally settled into peace.
It was a peace filled with warmth, like the waters of a lake warmed by a spring afternoon sun, rippling slightly but no longer cold.
Outside the Bamboo House, Arthur finished peeling the potatoes and began prepping the wild chicken.
His knife rose and fell with efficient movements.
He was still planning in his head: besides buying salt, thread, and osmanthus cake this afternoon, maybe he should bring back a new storybook?
He was halfway through that ‘Tale of the Fox Immortal’ and it was getting exciting.
Oh right, he also had to visit the blacksmith to order a small iron stove.
Winter was coming; with a stove, the house would be much warmer.
As for cultivation?
He’d worry about that tonight.
Anyway, he had already reached the threshold of the third stage of Taixu Sword Qi, so there was no rush.
Right now, he had more important things to do—
Make this potato stewed chicken well, so Master would eat an extra bowl of rice.
Live life well and make this tiny world a bit warmer.
As for those distant matters of salvation and tasks…
Arthur tossed the chicken pieces into the pot with a loud sizzle, and the aroma filled the air.
He swung the spatula and hummed a song, his heart clear and bright.
Those things could wait for later.
For now, he just wanted to live the life in front of him.
These days in the mountains where time seemed to stand still.
These days that made him willing to forget his past and lose himself within them.
These…
very good days.
[worldline Restoration Progress: 25.3%]
The progress bar moved a tiny bit more.
But Arthur didn’t notice.
He was busy adding seasonings to the pot, muttering, “One spoonful of sauce, two of wine, then some sugar to bring out the flavor…”
Outside the window, the sun was just right.
On Tai Xu Mountain, it was another day.